Purrfect Sparkle

by Nic Saint

  “Not just moles and pigeons,” said Dooley. “He’s seeing a badger tonight.”

  “What’s going on!” Marge cried.

  28

  Unfortunately it would appear that this was not my lucky day. Even though I’d never have admitted it at any other moment in my life, when we discovered the sign hanging on Vena’s door that she was on a two-week vacation and to call her replacement in the next town, I actually, and for the first time in my life, wished that Vena had been there!

  “We can’t wait for an appointment,” Odelia said, making one of those executive decisions your pet owner is sometimes obliged to make under these circumstances, and so she and Marge decided that the next best thing to a vet was… Tex!

  “Not Dr. Poolittle!” I moaned, for that diamond was really lying heavy on my tummy now. “He’s not a real doctor!”

  “He actually is a real doctor,” said Marge. “In fact he’s one of the best doctors I know.”

  “But he’s not a pet doctor!” I lamented.

  We were in the car at that point, Odelia having raced across town to Vena’s, and now racing back into town to see her dad about a cat. It might have sounded like a joke, but it was no joke to me!

  “He’s dying, Odelia,” said Dooley in a choky voice. “My best friend is dying. Do something! Save him!”

  “I’m not dying, Dooley,” I assured him. Though it was true that I wasn’t exactly feeling at the top of my form.

  “That diamond is sharp, Max,” said Brutus. “It’s sharp and hard and it’s probably cutting you all up inside. It’s cutting a way through your stomach, then through your liver, through your intestines, and finally it will burrow its way out, through the sheer force of gravity, and by that time you’ll die from internal hemorrhaging.”

  “Why, thank you, Brutus!” I cried. “That’s very helpful!”

  “Just telling you what you’re up against,” said a cat who was supposed to be my friend but behaved more like my worst enemy! “Diamonds are used in the mining industry,” he continued. “They can cut through the hardest rock. They use them as drill bits, see, since they can cut through almost anything, so they definitely won’t have any trouble cutting through your soft tissues, buddy.”

  “Brutus, maybe you shouldn’t say these things to Max,” said Harriet. “He’s in bad enough shape as it is.”

  “Yeah, don’t say things like that, Brutus!” I cried.

  “All right, all right,” said the black cat, holding up his paws. “Just thought you’d want to know.”

  “Oh, Max, you’re bleeding!” said Dooley.

  I glanced down at the seat of the car, but didn’t see a thing. “Bleeding? Where?”

  “That’s not blood, Dooley,” said Harriet. “That’s ketchup.”

  “Are you sure?” said Dooley, and licked at the spot.

  “Dooley, how many times do I have to tell you not to lick at strange spots!” I said.

  “Oh, Max,” he said, giving me a watery smile. “Even now, with one paw in the grave, you still think of me-e-e-e!”

  The car pulled to a stop, and we all piled out, though I had the luxury of being carried, since apparently I was now at death’s door, with only a few more minutes—or seconds!—to live.

  They carried me into the waiting room, then without knocking into the doctor’s office, where they found Tex, sipping from a bottle and looking as if he’d been busted in the act of doing something he shouldn’t.

  “It’s just water!” he cried when he met the censorious gazes of his wife and daughter and no less than four cats. “See?” He held up the bottle, and indeed it was Evian—not one of your go-to brands for alcoholics.

  “Max swallowed the Pink Lady,” said Marge, placing me on the desk in front of the doctor.

  “A pink what?” asked Tex.

  “The Pink Lady, Tex. The diamond we kept in our bedroom safe?”

  “The very large diamond you kept in your bedroom safe,” Odelia specified.

  “He’s accidentally swallowed it, so it’s in his stomach, and doing who knows what damage in there.”

  “And with Vena on holiday…”

  “So it’s up to you, Tex.”

  “But…”

  “You want to be a vet, right? Well, now’s your chance to prove it!”

  “You know about that?” asked Tex. He then turned to me. “But I thought Vesta had sworn the cats to secrecy?”

  “It’s all right, Tex,” said Dooley. “I told Marge not to tell anyone.”

  “You really should know better than to trust cats to keep a secret,” said Marge. “They blab. It’s what they do!”

  “Now save Max’s life, Dad,” Odelia implored. “Do something!”

  I should have felt insulted by Marge’s words, but frankly she was right: blabbing is what we do! But then Tex looked me in the eye, and I looked him in the eye, and he smiled. And I don’t know why, but at that moment I felt slightly reassured that this man knew what he was doing and that he could help me. After all, he was a doctor, right? He might not be a vet yet, but he knew about anatomy. And since human anatomy probably isn’t all that different from that of other mammals, maybe he would be able to save my life from this sharp and pointy diamond!

  “Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” said Tex, as he picked me up and carried me over to his examination table. “First we’re going to take a picture to see what we’re dealing with here.”

  “A picture?” I asked a little weakly. “You’re going to take my picture?”

  “Now is not the time to take pictures for your Facebook page, Tex!” Harriet cried.

  “I think Tex is referring to an X-ray,” Marge explained.

  And indeed he was. He hooked me up to some kind of machine hovering over me, and moments later said, “Don’t move, Max.” So I kept perfectly still while he did his thing.

  “The X-ray machine was a big investment,” Marge explained to her daughter, “but it’s definitely paying off now.”

  “I only use it for small stuff,” said Tex.

  “I’m not small stuff, Tex!” I cried, but of course he didn’t understand.

  “It saves time. Sending a person to a radiologist and then waiting for the results…” He was studying a special kind of laptop now, and finally said, “I see it. It’s still in his stomach.”

  Odelia and Marge crowded around Tex and studied the images. “I seem to remember the Pink Lady is not a sharp-edged stone,” said Odelia. “I don’t think it’ll do any damage.”

  “Plus, it’s round,” said Tex. “It should pass through quite easily.”

  “So what do you suggest?” asked Marge.

  “I think you should give him bread and a few spoons of milk. The bread will wrap itself around the diamond and protect the stomach, and the milk will induce a mild case of diarrhea, which will help purge the stone from his system. You’ll need to monitor his stool to retrieve the diamond—better wear plastic gloves when you do.”

  “And if he doesn’t pass the diamond?” asked Odelia, stroking me gently.

  “If it doesn’t pass, it will need to be removed surgically.”

  “Surgically!” I cried. “What do you mean, surgically?!”

  “He means he’ll have to operate,” Odelia explained.

  “He’ll have to cut you open like a fish, Max,” said Brutus.

  “But I don’t want to be cut open like a fish!”

  “Brutus, don’t scare Max,” said Harriet.

  “I’m just telling him what’s going to happen so that he’s prepared. It’s better that he knows going in. Chances of survival are probably fifty percent,” he said. “Though to be honest it can go both ways.”

  “Brutus!” Harriet snapped.

  “All right, all right. Just trying to help.”

  “Well, stop helping.”

  “Who’s going to perform the procedure?” asked Odelia. “You, Dad?”

  “Not me personally, no,” said Tex. “I—I’m not qualified to operate on Max.” He sig
hed. “I’m not actually a vet, you see. And if anything went wrong…”

  “I know, honey,” said Marge, rubbing her husband on the back. “But I still think you did a fine job here.” She gave me a smile. “How are you feeling, Max?”

  “I guess I’m okay,” I said. “As long as Tex won’t cut me open like a fish.” They’d turned the thick laptop in my direction, and it was a little weird to be able to look inside myself—plenty weird, in fact. And there it was: the Pink Lady. It was just lying there, gently reposing on a bed of stomach, and not doing any cutting or drilling or whatever horrible picture Brutus had conjured up.

  “You’ll be fine,” said Odelia. “You’ll poop out the stone and that’ll be the end of it.”

  I glanced up at Tex. “You really are Dr. Poolittle,” I said reverently. “Thank you, sir.”

  After Marge had translated my words to the doctor, he frowned. “Dr. Poolittle? What is he talking about?”

  “I came up with that,” Dooley said. “It’s a cool nickname, don’t you think?”

  “No, Dooley,” said Harriet. “It’s a very silly nickname.”

  “I like it,” said Odelia with a grin. “It’s very catchy.”

  “Dr. Poolittle,” Tex murmured, rolling the words around his tongue. He didn’t seem overly pleased with the moniker. “Is that what Hampton Cove’s pet population is calling me?”

  “They will now,” I said, as I gave the man a mild head bunt.

  29

  I don’t know if you’ve ever had to wait for a diamond to pass through your gastrointestinal system, but generally speaking it’s not an arduous process. You simply let nature take its course and in the meantime you get on with your life. Only in my case it was slightly complicated by the fact that my humans had fed me a few spoons of milk, which causes diarrhea in a lot of cats, me included. And the second complication was the knowledge that people were waiting for me to poop out a million-dollar gem made me slightly anxious—which luckily also aided in the digestive process! And since Odelia wanted me close by so she could monitor my progress—or that of the diamond—I was grounded, which didn’t bother me in the slightest. I am, after all, a homebody.

  Dooley had decided to keep me company, and was watching me like a hawk, and Brutus and Harriet were in the vicinity, too, having a nice nap underneath the rose bushes in the backyard while Dooley and I enjoyed a lie-down on the smooth lawn. And so the long day wore on, with Odelia popping her head out of the upstairs window from time to time to check on me, and me feeling like a sick pet and taking it easy, even though technically I wasn’t sick—just silly enough to swallow a priceless gem!

  “I think we should take it easy, Max,” said Dooley when I got up to stretch. “We don’t want to exert ourselves.”

  “I’m fine, Dooley,” I said. “I’m not actually sick, just inconvenienced.”

  “We don’t look fine, Max. We look… constipated.”

  I grimaced. It was true that in spite of Tex’s ministrations nothing was happening, if you know what I mean. “Maybe milk isn’t strong enough. Maybe I need an actual laxative.”

  “A laxative? You mean something that will make us poop?”

  “Yes, Dooley. That’s what a laxative is. It makes you go poop. And what’s with all the ‘we’ stuff? I’m the one with the diamond up his… keister.”

  He thought about this for a moment. “Maybe grass?” he suggested. “Grass might get things moving down… there.” He vaguely gestured to my lower strata.

  “Trouble, boys?” asked Brutus, who’d come wandering up, followed by Harriet.

  “Nothing I can’t handle, Brutus,” I said, perhaps a little curtly. Frankly I could do without the black cat’s advice.

  “We can’t poop,” announced Dooley, the inveterate blabbermouth. “And so we’re thinking about eating some grass.”

  “We?” asked Harriet. “Did you swallow a diamond, too?”

  But Brutus was laughing. “You want to eat grass? Like a cow? That’s hilarious!”

  “Not like a cow, Brutus,” I said. “It’s a generally known fact that cats eat grass to help with their digestion.”

  “Wanna know what I think?” said Brutus as he regarded me thoughtfully.

  “No, Brutus, I do not want to know what you think.”

  “I think that diamond is stuck down there. And now the whole process is blocked.” When I produced a light laugh at this, he continued, “I’m not trying to be funny, Max. When an object as large as that diamond gets stuck in your intestine, whether it be the small intestine or the large, it creates a blockage that could be fatal if not immediately remedied.”

  “Fatal!” Dooley cried, in a panic all over again.

  “Nothing is stuck, Brutus,” I assured him. “It just takes time. It’s only been, what, two hours? And the whole process takes seven to twelve hours.” Tex had told me this, and I believed him.

  “Do you want to take that chance?” Brutus said, cocking an eyebrow at me. “Cats have died from this, buddy. And as your good friend I’m telling you that you should go and see a doctor. Pronto.”

  “Oh, God,” said Harriet, rolling her eyes. “Not again.”

  “Odeliaaaa!” Dooley was already screaming. “Odeliaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

  Odelia’s head popped out of the bedroom window so fast she hit it against the top of the frame. “Ouch. What’s wrong?”

  “The diamond is stuck in Max’s butt and he needs to see the doctor NOW!” Dooley screamed. “Or he will DIEEEEEEEE!”

  “Wait, I’m coming down,” said Odelia. And indeed moments later she joined us on the lawn. “What’s all this about the diamond being stuck?”

  “Max hasn’t pooped yet,” Brutus explained, “so that diamond is probably stopping up his whole system, and that is a very dangerous situation, and one that should be handled ASAP.”

  “Max?” Asked Odelia, directing a concerned look in my direction. “Are you in pain right now? Do you feel as if something’s blocked down there?”

  “I feel fine!” I assured everyone. “So stop worrying. The doctor said this could take hours.”

  “Have you pooped yet?” asked Brutus. “It’s a simple question.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “I rest my case,” said the butch cat.

  “Mh,” said Odelia, then took out her phone, and moments later was consulting with her dad. When she hung up, she had a look of concern on her face, a look I certainly didn’t like to see there! “He says to come in. He’ll take another X-ray to see how far the diamond has progressed through your system.”

  I produced a sound of disappointment. I hate going to the doctor, and now I had to go twice in one day? But what could I do? Dr. Poolittle had spoken, and so I had to do what he said. And so moments later we all piled in the car again, and were on our way into town.

  “Mh,” said Tex as he studied the screen. “I don’t like what I’m seeing, honey.”

  “Do you think the diamond is blocked?” asked Odelia, nervous now.

  “There is some progress, but according to my calculations it should have been further along at this point. And the fact that he hasn’t had a bowel movement is worrying me.”

  “Don’t say these things, Dr. Poolittle,” I lamented. “Now you’ve got me worried, too!”

  “Maybe you could use a plunger?” Brutus suggested. “It works miracles on stopped-up drains and toilets, or so I’ve been told.”

  “Nobody is using a plunger on me!” I yelled.

  “Relax, buddy,” said Brutus with a grin. “Just kidding.”

  “Oh, snuggle bear,” said Harriet. “Now is not the time for jokes.”

  “I was just trying to lighten the mood, snow bunny.”

  Harriet giggled. “I actually thought it was pretty funny.”

  “So what do you suggest, Dad?” asked Odelia.

  Tex lowered his head to examine my butt more closely. “Well, I would suggest that…”

  And I would have listened with distinct interest to th
e doctor’s suggestions, but just at that moment I felt a sudden urge taking control over me—a powerful spasm in my lower regions, if you see what I mean—and moments later there was a minor explosion, and when all was said and done, I’d done my business right there on Tex’s nice exam table. It felt good, I can tell you—immensely good. As if I’d just passed a brick!

  “Max! You did it!” Dooley cried.

  “Good boy,” said Odelia, patting me on the head.

  “Way to go, Max!” said Harriet.

  “And you didn’t even need a plunger,” said Brutus with a big grin.

  But then Tex slowly rose from behind me, and we all watched as remnants of my digestive process dribbled off his face. It was in his eyes, his nose, his hair, even his mouth, for he’d just been saying something.

  “Oh, Dad!” said Odelia with a horrified laugh. “You should see yourself!”

  “He got the full load,” Brutus said reverently. “The whole enchilada.”

  Odelia handed the doctor a wet wipe and as he glanced down at himself and his nice shiny exam table, a sort of howl escaped his lips. “My table!” he cried. “My office!”

  “Oh, don’t be such a baby, Dad,” said Odelia. “This is all part and parcel of being a vet. Now let’s find that diamond!”

  It didn’t take her long to find the Pink Lady, and I have to say the atmosphere was jubilant—a tough job well done!

  The only one who didn’t seem to share in the revels was Tex. He’d cleaned himself up at this point, but still didn’t look happy about the whole business.

  “What’s wrong, Dad?” asked Odelia finally.

  “I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” the good doctor confessed.

  “Cut out for what?”

  “This… animal!” he cried, gesturing to me and to his table, which still bore witness of recent events.

  “Max is not an animal, Dad,” said Odelia sternly. “Max is family.”

  “But look at what he did to my nice table! It smells!”

  “So you clean it. Big deal. Haven’t you ever dealt with this kind of thing before?”

  “If you’re asking me if a patient ever pooped on my face—no, as a matter of fact they haven’t.”