by Patricia Fry
“Well, I do,” Savannah said. “He must have escaped when we were here a while ago getting gas.” She let out a sigh. “He has a habit of doing that.”
“Well, I kinda like him and I say, finders keepers. I think he’d be safer with me and my cats than with someone who can’t keep track of him.”
“He is well-cared for. My husband and I are veterinarians and…”
“Well, you may be, but that don’t make you good pet owners.”
“Look, would you just let me take him so we can be on our way?”
“How do I know you didn’t drop him off, then change your mind and come back after him?” the woman spat. “Do you have proof he’s even yours?”
Savannah pushed her hair off her face and clenched her teeth in frustration.
Suddenly a young woman in the crowd said, “Hey, I’ve seen that cat before.” She pointed and thought for a minute. “Wasn’t he in a documentary about cats helping the police department or something?”
“Yes!” Savannah said excitedly. “His name’s Rags and we’re on our way to LA to do a series of book signings.”
The older woman squinted at Savannah and tightened her grip on Rags. “Now I know you’re loony. A cat doing a book signing? Yeah, he’d be safer with me.”
“Marvelle, what are you doing?” came a man’s voice from behind them. “Put that cat down. You don’t need no more cats. Drop him, I say!”
“Awww Clyde, you know one more won’t hurt nothing.”
“Yeah, one more on top of fourteen? I’m not having it, Marvelle. Let someone else rescue this one.”
“He doesn’t need rescuing,” Savannah insisted. “He’s my cat and he has a chip to prove it.”
“Yeah, he’s her cat, all right,” a teen called out. “Look at this,” he said, holding up his phone for the others to see. “He has a website and he stars in some children’s books.” He nodded toward Savannah. “Here’s a picture of her with the cat.”
“Oh, I’d forgotten our publicity agent built that website. Thank you,” she said to the young man.
“Can we have his autograph?” an elderly woman asked.
A man in the crowd laughed. “Yeah, let him step on an ink pad and put his paw on this paper here.”
“You don’t put ink on a cat’s paws,” Savannah said. “They use a special nontoxic substance for his paw-tographs.”
“Ta-ta,” Marvelle said. “What a hoity-toity you are. I don’t think this cat wants to be in that world with people like you.”
“Marvelle, drop the cat, now!” her husband ordered. More quietly, he said, “Look at him, he’s not worth nothing.”
“Vannie, what’s going on?” Margaret asked when she slipped in next to her with Lily in her arms. “Did you find…” she paused. “Oh, I see you found him.” She whispered, “Who’s that?”
Savannah let out a sigh. “A fan,” she quipped. “She wants to keep Rags. Doesn’t think I know how to take care of him.”
“Here,” Margaret said, handing Lily to Savannah. She pushed her way up to the woman named Marvelle. “Listen up. This is her cat and she can prove it. Now turn him loose or I’ll call the cops.”
“No need,” someone from behind her said. “I already called them. Oh, here they are.”
“Good lord,” Margaret said, when she turned and saw two police officers approaching.
“Okay, what’s going on here?” one officer asked as he moved into the crowd.
“She has my cat,” Savannah complained, “and she won’t give him back.”
“A cat?” The officer looked around. “How’d he get in here, anyway?”
“I guess he got out of my car when we stopped for gas a while ago. When we noticed he was missing,” Savannah said, “we came back and this woman won’t give him to us.”
“It’s her cat,” the teen said, holding his phone up for the officer to see. “He’s famous.”
“And he’s on his way to LA to do book signings,” another bystander interjected.
The officer squinted at the individuals in the group. “What is this, April Fool’s Day? Are you folks trying to play a joke on us?” He studied the cat and the woman who was holding him, then looked at Savannah. “Well, typically possession, when it comes to a cat, is nine-tenths of the law. But it appears that you have proof this cat is yours.”
“Yes,” Savannah was quick to say. “He has a chip and he’s registered to me, Savannah Ivey.”
The officer addressed the woman who held Rags in her arms. “What do you have to say?”
When she hesitated, her husband said in a threatening manner, “Marvelle!”
She leaned toward him and spoke through clenched teeth, “Clyde, didn’t you hear them? He’s in the movies. He probably is worth something.”
“Forget it, Marvelle. I mean it,” he demanded.
“So,” one officer asked, “what’s it going to be?”
Marvelle looked down at Rags, then glared at Savannah and Margaret. “Even if this is her cat, it appears that she doesn’t take very good care of him.” She pulled him closer. “See, he wants to be with me. He ran away from her, didn’t he?”
“He did not run away,” Margaret said. When she saw that everyone was looking at her, she said quietly, “He just likes to explore new places.”
“I have an idea,” the second officer said. He walked up to the woman and took Rags from her. He held him and petted him for a minute, then said, “Okay, I’m going to put him on the floor and you two women both try to get his attention. Let’s see which one of you he goes to.”
“Everyone stand back,” the first officer instructed.
Once the policeman placed Rags on the floor, the cat sat down and looked out at the forest of feet. He glanced at Marvelle as she leaned over and called to him, and he stared for a few seconds at Savannah when she kneeled down and encouraged Rags. Then he stood up and walked toward Marvelle and past her, lunging through the crowd and toward the door. When a customer opened it to come in, Rags slipped out with Savannah, Marvelle, and the rest of the onlookers following after him. He ran out to the gas pumps, then raced toward Savannah’s car, which was parked a short distance away. He sat down next to the SUV and gazed out at the group that quickly approached him.
“That’s my car,” Savannah said. “He knows my car.”
Before Savannah reached him, Rags stretched up with his front paws toward the door handle, as if he wanted someone to open the door for him. Margaret, who still held the car key, unlocked the door. When Savannah opened it Rags hopped in, jumped over the seat, and settled down on the blanket on top of the cat pen.
“I guess it’s her cat,” the officer said. He turned to Marvelle. “Now, if you want to pursue this, we’ll confiscate the cat and take him to the nearest veterinarian to have his chip scanned. If not, let’s let these folks be on their way, shall we?”
“Marvelle,” her husband warned.
“All right,” the woman grumbled, “let them have him. He looks like more trouble than I want, anyway.” She then barked at Savannah, “You’d just better keep a closer eye on that cat or you’re liable to lose him for real next time.”
“Thank you,” Savannah said quietly before buckling Lily into her car seat and sliding into the driver’s seat.
They’d traveled a few blocks before Margaret burst out laughing. Her laughter accelerated until it became almost uncontrolled.
“I don’t see the humor,” Savannah said, trying to keep a straight face.
“Shall I answer your husband’s text?” Margaret asked between chortles. “Dear Michael,” she mimicked, “we’re a little over halfway to LA and already Rags has caused more trouble than most cats do in a lifetime. All is well; at least the policemen decided not to arrest us.”
“Never mind. I’ll text him later and let him know it’s been smooth sailing—no problems and Rags is behaving himself beautifully.”
Savannah’s glance was met by her aunt�
��s eye roll, which was followed by a giant chorus of laughter between them.
****
The weary travelers arrived at Savannah’s mother’s house around six that evening and hugs were shared all around.
“You brought your cat?” Gladys asked, upon seeing Rags behind Savannah, wearing his blue harness and matching leash.
“Well, yeah. You knew he was coming with us, Mom. He’s doing some book signings, remember?”
“Oh yes.” She looked concerned for a minute, then glanced into the hallway. “I just hope…”
“That’s right, you have your own cat now. Are you afraid they won’t get along? Doesn’t Darby like other cats?” Savannah grinned. “That is what you ended up naming him—Darby, right?”
“Yes, I think so,” Gladys said. “Oh, I wonder how I ever settled on names for you and Brianna… I’ve been so indecisive about the cat’s name. Yes, Darby seems to work. I think that’ll be his name.”
“Where is he?” When Savannah noticed Rags pulling in the direction of the hallway, she said, “Let me guess. On your bed.”
Gladys looked sheepish. “Probably.”
“Rags wants to meet him.”
Gladys wrung her hands. “Do you think that’s a good idea, Vannie? What if they don’t like each other?”
Savannah shrugged. “We won’t know until we introduce them. But I can tell you that Rags gets along with most animals he meets. He’s rather dog-like in that way.” She turned to Margaret. “Don’t you think so, Auntie?”
“You want me to predict what that cat’s going to do?” Margaret groused. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Gladys thought about her sister’s comments, then changed the subject. “Well, let me show you to your rooms. You can unpack if you like, and freshen up. Maybe Rags wants to relax for a little while. I’ll bring Darby out after dinner.”
“Okay,” Savannah said. “Which room is ours?”
“First one on the right. Go on; I’ll entertain Lilliana while you wash up. Then we’ll have a nice taco salad. Sound good?”
“Perfect, Mom. Thanks.”
“Maggie, you can have the first room to the left.”
“All right. See you in a bit,” she said, rolling her suitcase toward the hallway.
The dinner hour was lively as Savannah and Margaret told of the day’s events, each with her own embellishments. It wasn’t long before Gladys complained, “My sides hurt from laughing.”
“It isn’t funny, Mom,” Savannah whined.
“Well, your aunt sure makes it sound like a comedy of errors.” She chuckled. “Is there never a dull moment with your cat, Vannie?”
After thinking about it, Savannah said, “Not really, I guess. But he doesn’t always create quite as much chaos as he did today.”
After dinner and a cooperative kitchen clean-up, the women were ready to relax in the living room. “Go get your cat, Mom,” Savannah said, sitting down on a bold-striped sofa. “I want to see how much he’s grown since I saw him last. What’s it been, three months?”
Gladys stood to leave the room. “Yes, something like that.” She returned holding a wide-eyed, mostly white patched tabby.
“Oh, he’s handsome,” Savannah said. “He’s outgrown his gangly teenage stage.”
Gladys smiled. “Yes, I think he’s rather pretty.”
“Look at that face—such a sweet face,” Margaret said. “Where did you get him?”
Gladys put him down on the floor. “He was hanging around here when Vannie and Lilliana were here a few months ago.” She pointed accusingly at Savannah. “She started feeding him.”
“Now, that’s not exactly true, Mom,” Savannah said in her defense. “You were already sneaking him chicken and scrambled eggs. Remember, I even found cat food in your cupboard.” She said to Margaret, “But I did encourage Mom to take him in.” She smiled. “Looks like he’s happy here.”
“Yes, we’re a pretty good team. He’s wonderful company.”
Once Darby had walked around the room getting acquainted with the guests, Gladys suggested, “Do you want to bring Rags out?”
“Are you sure it’s okay?” Savannah asked.
“Let’s give it a try.”
Within moments, Savannah returned to the living room with Rags trotting alongside her. Suddenly he stopped and sat down. There before him, standing tall, his back arched, was a cat Rags had never seen before.
“Uh-oh, that’s what I was afraid of.” Gladys started to approach Darby.
“No, Mom, just leave them alone for a minute. Let’s see what happens. Cats have their own way of establishing friendships.”
“But what if…” she fretted.
“Vannie’s right, Gladys,” Margaret said. “It’s best to let them work things out on their own—in most cases, anyway.”
What happened next surprised everyone. Darby stood on his tippy-paws for several seconds, continuing to arch his back, while Rags simply sat staring at the resident cat. Soon Darby edged closer and Rags began sniffing the air. Darby sniffed in Rags’s direction. When Rags continued to stare, Darby dropped the macho act and he, too, sat down. Now it was Rags’s turn to be curious. He stood and walked toward Darby, his nose in the air. When he was within inches of the resident cat, Rags, evidently satisfied that he was in friendly territory, gave the tabby a head-butt and Darby accepted the friendly overture by rubbing his body alongside Rags before plopping down at Gladys’s feet.
Margaret chortled. “Well, I can see that your cat’s not impressed by his first feline guest.” She leaned forward in her chair. “Now that we’ve established there’s no pecking order, I think I’ll go to bed.” She asked Savannah, “What time’s the signing tomorrow?”
“Seven. We have all day to recover from our long drive. Ahhh, I’m looking forward to a day of relaxation.”
“Relaxation?” Margaret said, snickering. “With Lily and Rags—especially Rags? I hope it’s true, but it’s hard to believe.” She stood. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my room.” She started to walk away, then turned. “And you’d better not need me, because I’ll be dead to the world until around nine tomorrow morning.”
****
“Are you going with us to the signing, Gladys?” Margaret asked the following day as they sat on the patio enjoying the last of the afternoon sunshine.
“I thought I might, if Lilliana is agreeable.” She smiled. “I’ve been telling my friends about my grand-cat who autographs books, and they’re intrigued. Some of them plan to attend one of your signings while you’re here. I’d like to watch one so I know what I’m bragging about.” Gladys lowered her brow. “How does a cat sign a book, anyway?”
“Oh, you’ll see. It’s kind of cute to watch, except when Rags has one of his stubborn streaks.” Savannah gazed at Lily, who was collecting dandelions in a basket. “Mom, rather than take Lily out tonight, why don’t you go with us tomorrow during the day?”
After thinking about it, Gladys said, “That’s probably a good idea. You don’t want her to get too far off her schedule or you’ll have a cranky little girl on your hands.”
Margaret took a sip from her water bottle. “Vannie, what do you hear from Leah and Harrison?”
“Oh, I got a text from Leah. She said it’s wonderful to be able to relax and enjoy their family again. Evidently, they arrested Charlie’s grandparents and their accomplices and charged them with kidnapping. They found incriminating evidence in their home. Leah said those people are going down. She sounds so happy and relieved.”
“I imagine so. Poor thing.”
“What happened?” Gladys asked.
Savannah grimaced. “Leah’s baby-daddy’s parents decided they wanted Charlie and, when Leah and Harrison protested, they sent someone to snatch him.”
“Kidnap him? Oh my gosh, the kids must have been frantic.”
“They sure were,” Margaret said, wide-eyed. “But when those people found out Charlie has Downs, they decided they did
n’t want him, after all.”
Savannah nodded. “So the grandparents left Charlie behind a trash bin in Hawaii and gave Leah and Harrison just hours to come and get him. They barely made the deadline—I mean it was like some crazy movie script.”
“Wow!” Gladys said.
Savannah thinned her lips. “Let’s hope that’s the end of the trouble with Charlie’s Hawaiian ties for the rest of his life.”
“Hear! Hear!” Margaret said.
****
Later that evening when Savannah, Margaret, and Rags—on his leash—stepped out of Savannah’s car in the parking lot behind the large bookstore, they heard a voice. “Savannah, hi!”
She turned and saw two of her friends. Embracing each of them, she said, “Gwen! Sarah! How fun to see you. Thank you for coming.”
“Are you kidding?” Gwen said. “I love a circus.”
“A circus?” Savannah repeated.
“Yeah.” She looked down. “Hey, is that Rags? He’s a trick cat now? Man, I never thought I’d see you going on tour with a cat.”
“What do you mean?” Sarah said. “Of course she’s going to have cats. She’s a veterinarian.” She looked into the windows of Savannah’s car. “Where’s Lily?”
“We left her with Mom. Hey, she’ll be with us tomorrow at the bookstore on Wallace, if you can make it. The signing’s at two o’clock.”
Gwen laughed. “Does she do tricks, too?”
Ignoring her, Savannah reached out to include Margaret. “Guys, this is my aunt, Maggie. Auntie, these are some old friends, Gwen and Sarah.” After appropriate greetings were shared, Savannah asked Sarah, “Where’s your little one?”
“Stu has him. They’re looking for his juicy. Oh, here they come.”
“Savannah,” Stuart greeted, “how the heck are you?” He hugged her hard, then stepped back and looked more closely at her. “Are you getting ready to pop out another one?”
“I sure am,” Savannah said, rubbing her stomach.
“Another baby?” Gwen said. “Already?”
Savannah smirked playfully at her friend. “Yeah, they’ll be two-and-a-half years apart. You and your brother are only fourteen months apart, right?” Not waiting for Gwen’s response, Savannah leaned toward Stu and Sarah’s child. “I want to say hi to this big guy. Kevin, right?”