Revenge at its Felinest

by Patricia Fry

  By then, Savannah had also stepped out of the car. She had Teddy in her arms. Gladys had removed Lily from her seat and held her by the hand as they gathered around the back of the Iveys’ SUV.

  “How sad for the poor woman,” Savannah said. “How long has Bootsie been missing?”

  “Almost two days now,” Claude said. “Yes, Ma’s pretty upset. She’s awfully close to that cat.” He smiled. “Bootsie does tricks. Ma has actually taught a cat to do tricks. Can you believe that?” He frowned. “That’s another reason she thinks someone might have taken him.”

  When Michael opened the back of the car, Rags stood and stretched. Michael took Teddy from Savannah and suggested that she put Rags’s harness on him.

  “Yeah, he’d probably like to get a little exercise,” she said.

  Once she had his harness fastened around him, she took the leash and urged him to jump down to the pavement. But Rags chose to greet Claude first. He walked up to the man and attempted to sniff his hand. Claude stepped back, which confused Michael.

  He asked, “Don’t you like cats?”

  “Allergic,” Claude said. “And I didn’t take my meds this morning. Didn’t actually expect to meet up with a cat, although our house is filled with them.”

  “You have cats,” Savannah asked, “and you’re allergic to them?”

  “’Fraid so,” Claude admitted. “But I take medicine for it and get shots.” He grinned and winked. “Happened to fall in love with a gal who can’t live without cats.” He looked Rags over from a distance away. “So you say you’ve had this cat for a while?”

  Savannah nodded. “Yes. He’s been with me for going on seven years.” She faced the man and asked, “Do you have a picture of Bootsie?”

  Claude jumped. “As a matter of fact I do.” He slipped a phone from his pants pocket. “I took this to show my wife some time ago. Since then, I’ve brought her into the city to meet Ma and to see Bootsie a few times. She writes a cat column—you know, on the computer.”

  “Oh, a blog?” Savannah asked.

  “Yes, that’s it, a blog where she writes about cats.” When he found the picture on his phone, he held it out for the others to see. “This was taken a year or so ago. Bootsie is getting up there in years, you know. He’s like ten now.” He studied Rags as the cat walked around sniffing the ground and a nearby bed of gazanias, then he looked at the photograph. “Yeah, I can see that he has different markings than Bootsie does.”

  “Yes,” Savannah said, “but the markings are similar. Bootsie appears to be mostly grey like Rags is, but look at those tall white booties. I can see why Ma calls him Bootsie. Very cute.”

  Claude’s face lit up. “Want to meet her? Her place isn’t too far from here. I’m sure she’d love to see your cat.”

  “Well, I don’t think…” Michael started.

  “Yes, I’d like to meet her,” Savannah said. She glanced at Michael. “Maybe we can give her some ideas that would help her to find Bootsie.”

  “Awww, hon,” Michael complained.

  “I’d like to meet her,” Savannah insisted. “She probably needs consoling.” She asked Claude, “Does the cat go outside in this big city?”

  “Well, there’s really nothing stopping him,” Claude said, “but Ma doesn’t purposely turn him out. Know what I mean? He certainly could be carried off by a mean-spirited person, or he could slip out the door with someone, undetected.”

  “How far is it?” Michael asked, his voice lacking enthusiasm.

  Claude peered into the distance. “Only about two blocks.”

  “Let’s go,” Savannah said. She looked at Michael. “Want to get the stroller out?”

  He nodded. “Not a bad idea. Lily will probably want to be carried at some point and she’s getting heavy.”

  ****

  They found Ma Ito in her small office. An employee was checking and bagging some dog food for a customer.

  “Ma, this is the Ivey family,” Claude said after persuading the woman to come out of her office. “They came to help you find Bootsie.”

  “Oh, my Bootsie,” Ma wailed. “Where could he be?” Suddenly, she looked down and saw Rags. She jumped back with her hands over her mouth, then quickly apologized, “Forgive me. For a moment, I thought you had brought my Bootsie back to me. But that is not Bootsie, is it?” She walked closer to Rags and looked up at Savannah. “Who is this? Your cat?”

  Savannah smiled at the small woman. “Yes. This is Rags. I’m so sorry to hear that Bootsie is missing.”

  The woman leaned over and petted Rags. “It tears at my heart. He’s my child, you see.”

  “I know,” Savannah crooned. “We sure can get attached to our kitties.” When Rags stepped away from the woman, Savannah attempted to lure him back, but he seemed bent on exploring.

  “Go,” Ma said. “Let him go look around. This is a haven for cats and dogs and we have quite a nice supply of pet items, including some unique gifts.” She pointed. “The cat treats are that way.” She chuckled. “It appears that he has already figured that out.”

  “Good. Maybe he’ll show me where the cat food is. We need to pick up some.”

  The diminutive Japanese woman watched Savannah walk away with Rags, then she took Gladys’s hand. “And who are you, might I inquire? The grandmother to these beautiful children?” She smiled. “My, they are beautiful. And so perfect. A boy and a girl.”

  “Yes, these are my grandchildren,” Gladys said. “This is Lily and Teddy.”

  “You are blessed,” Ma said. “I have no children and that’s why Bootsie is so special to me.” She teared up.

  Michael asked gently, “Where was your cat the last time you saw him?”

  Ma looked up at him and spoke slowly, “Well, I’d just given him a treat. We were enjoying a quiet time late in the day when,” she paused and frowned. “when the wicked woman from up the street came in with that yappy dog of hers and allowed Bridget to frighten Bootsie. But he’s never run off like this. I can’t imagine where he’d go and why he’d stay away for so long, unless someone picked him up and they’ve decided to keep him.”

  Michael started to speak when he heard Savannah call out to him from the other side of an aisle. “What?” he asked, walking in the direction of her voice.

  “Michael, listen,” she said, leaning toward a stack of kitty litter bags.

  He tilted his head. “What do you hear?” When he saw Rags clawing at one of the bags, he warned, “Don’t let him do that, Savannah. He’s going to have litter all over the place.”

  “Well, Michael, I think he has found Bootsie.”

  “Huh? The cat? What are you talking about? In a bag of litter?”

  Savannah giggled. “No, silly. Maybe under the shelf—I don’t know. But I hear a faint mew and scratching.”

  “Are you sure it’s not rats?” Michael asked quietly, glancing around the cluttered store. He leaned closer to her and said, “…or cockroaches?”

  Savannah rolled her eyes. “I doubt that; I think we should check it out.” She reached for Teddy. “Here, let me have him and maybe you can see if there’s any way for a cat to get into that shelving or something.”

  Before Michael could investigate, they heard Ma ask, “Is there something I can help you with? What is it you’re looking for?”

  Savannah put her hand on the woman’s arm. “We may have found your cat.”

  Michael faced them. “Now we can’t be sure. Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

  “Dear God,” Ma said, clutching at her chest. “Is he…?”

  Savannah assured her, “If it’s him, I’m sure he’s fine…just stuck, it seems.”

  With Claude’s help, Michael removed the bags of kitty litter from the shelf, then he studied its construction trying to decide what to do next. When he saw Rags straining to join him, he said, “Hon, bring him over here, would you?” Michael watched as Rags jumped up onto the empty shelf and began pawing at the face of the shelf above it. He then turned in place,
looked at Michael, and meowed.

  Michael moved closer. He tapped on the shelf, then listened. He turned to Ma. “It looks like this is some new construction here. When did you have it done?”

  Claude nodded. “I was here the day her handyman fixed that shelf.” He looked at Ma. “It had been broken for a long time, hadn’t it?”

  She nodded and quipped, “Yes, merchandise was falling into the black hole. Randy repaired it just a few days ago. Looks nice, don’t you think so?”

  Michael faced her. “Yes, Ma, it looks real nice, but I think we’ll have to take apart Randy’s good work.”

  “Why?”

  He smiled. “I think Bootsie is in there. He must have gone in while your handyman was repairing this shelf and he got left inside. At least that’s what Rags seems to be telling us.” He thought for a moment and said, “But I don’t hear him crying to get out. It seems like he’d be meowing.”

  “He is,” Savannah insisted. “I heard him. It’s very faint, but I heard a mew.”

  “Bootsie doesn’t have much of a voice,” Ma said. “That’s one reason why we get along so well. I once had a Siamese who talked all the time. Drove me batty.” She grabbed Savannah’s arm, her eyes wide and searching. “So you think my Bootsie is trapped in there? How will we ever get him out?”

  “Do you have a large screwdriver or…” Michael started.

  “…a crowbar?” Claude suggested.

  “Yes, that’ll probably work. I just want to pry the face off that shelf.”

  “Where’s your car parked, Ma?” Claude asked. “There should be a crowbar in your trunk.”

  She pointed. “Right out there where I always park.”

  “Good,” Claude said, walking away. “Be right back.”

  Within minutes, Michael had pried the face off the new shelving, and to everyone’s delight, a Rags look-alike peered out at them.

  “Bootsie!” Ma squealed. “My Bootsie.” She picked up the cat and held him. “Am I ever glad to see you!” She stared down at the shelf. “All this time you were right here with me and I didn’t even know it.”

  She kissed the cat on top of his head, and, with tears in her eyes, said to Michael and Savannah, “Thank you so much for finding my Bootsie.”

  “It wasn’t us,” Savannah said. “Rags found him. I didn’t even notice anything until Rags started clawing around that area. He must have heard him or sensed that he was down there.”

  Ma leaned over, placed Bootsie on the floor, then reached out and hugged Rags. “Thank you so much, sweet boy. You are a good boy and you deserve a treat. You saved my Bootsie from starvation. I’ll never forget you.” When Bootsie rubbed up alongside Rags, she said, “And it looks like Bootsie won’t either.” She stood up. “Wait. Let me get Rags a treat. He deserves a treat.”

  “Better feed Bootsie something too,” Michael suggested. He ran his hand over the cat, looked into his eyes, then gently pinched his skin between his thumb and forefinger. “Let’s get some fluids into him. He’s dehydrated.”

  Ma stopped and looked at Michael. “You sound like some sort of animal doctor.”

  “I am,” he said, smiling. “We run a veterinary clinic in Hammond.”

  Ma stared at him for a moment, then said, “Well, all the better.” She hastened her step toward the back of the store to get Bootsie some food and water, calling out loudly, “Oh, what a great day this has turned out to be!”

  ****

  It was around four that afternoon when the Iveys pulled into Rochelle’s and Peter’s driveway.

  Michael gazed at the ranch-style home amidst mostly white rose bushes. “Nice place.”

  “Charming,” Savannah said, taking it all in. She pointed. “Oh, there’s Peter.” She lowered her window and called out, “Hi.”

  “Well, it took you long enough,” Peter scolded as he walked toward the car. “Where’ve you been? Did you get lost? Or did you go shopping? We have some amazing shops here. Pricey, but very nice.”

  Michael stepped out of the car and gave his long-time friend a guy hug. “No, we didn’t get lost. No shopping.” He grinned. “But we did take an unexpected detour.”

  “Yeah, we had a little excitement,” Savannah added, walking into Peter’s open arms.

  “Drama,” Gladys murmured while crawling out of the backseat. “Wherever we go there’s drama.” She motioned toward Rags. “And it usually has to do with that cat.”

  “Oh?” Rochelle said, joining them. She hugged Savannah, then Michael and Gladys. “What sort of drama did Rags scratch up—dare I ask?”

  Michael released Lily from her car seat and lifted her out. When both Rochelle and Peter greeted her, Lily looked at them wide-eyed and said excitedly, “Rags found Bootsie.”

  “Did you say Rags is wearing booties?” Peter asked.

  Lily shook her head. “No, he found Bootsie,” she insisted.

  When the couple looked to Savannah for an interpretation, she said, “Lily, tell them what Bootsie is.”

  “Bootsie is a kitty,” Lily explained. “He was lost. Rags found him.” Before the Whitcombs could respond, Lily gazed at Gladys, a worried look on her face, and said, “The tire fell off Grammy’s car.”

  Both Peter and Rochelle looked at Gladys, who laughed and said, “That’s out of context, I’m afraid. What I told her was that I once saw a car lose its wheel on the freeway.”

  “Oh,” Rochelle said. She then cocked her head and looked at Savannah. “So Rags found a lost cat?”

  Michael nodded. “He sure did.”

  “In San Francisco?” Peter asked.

  “Yeah, it was rather awesome,” Savannah said. “The poor woman, Ma, was beside herself with worry about Bootsie.”

  “Ma at Ito’s Pet Mart?” Peter asked.

  “She lost Bootsie?” Rochelle exclaimed. “How sad. She sure loves that cat.”

  Michael took Teddy out of his car seat and addressed the Whitcombs. “How do you know Ma? You don’t have any pets do you?”

  “Not at the moment,” Rochelle said. “But we have friends with pets and we go there to buy toys for a couple of Yorkies when we visit them or a new sparkly collar for a diva cat we know.” More haughtily she said, “Her names Bathsheba.”

  After the others had reacted to Rochelle’s comment, Peter looked at Rags and said, “So he found Ma’s cat? Leave it to Rags. Where, for goodness sake? How did that happen?” He then suggested, “Hey, let’s bring your things in and get you settled, then you can tell us all about it. Sounds like you could use a beer.”

  “Or a glass of wine,” Rochelle added. She reached for Teddy, who Michael had handed off to Savannah so he could unload the luggage. “Here, give me the baby,” she said. “Come on, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

  “This is a wonderful home,” Savannah said upon entering. “I really liked your apartment, but this is super nice.”

  “We sure like it.”

  “Yeah,” Peter said, “we should. It’s a bit of a leap from what our apartment cost.”

  “Your businesses must be doing well,” Savannah said.

  Peter glanced at Rochelle. “If only we can keep up the momentum. I just hope we weren’t premature in buying this.”

  “Hey, if it becomes too much of a burden, just move back down south,” Michael suggested. “Or come up where we are.”

  “I tried LA,” Peter said, “and it just doesn’t have the clientele we find here. Yes, everything costs more here in the Bay Area, but the payback is greater too.” He paused before saying, “So far.”

  “We realize we have options,” Rochelle said. “Gotta be flexible in this crazy world.”

  Everyone nodded, after which Peter said, “Rochelle, go ahead and show them their rooms. I’ll handle refreshments.” When the others returned a few minutes later, Peter asked, “Are the accommodations okay?”

  “Oh my, yes,” Gladys said, smiling. “Your guest rooms are lovely.”

  “Yes, they are,” Savannah agreed. “Elegant. You’re s
poiling us. Those five-star hotels Rob has lined up for us will pale, compared to what you offer.”

  “I hope you’ll be comfortable here,” Rochelle said. “The rooms are small.”

  “But so beautifully decorated,” Gladys noted.

  Rochelle smiled. “Thanks.” When she saw Peter hand Michael a beer, she placed Teddy in Savannah’s arms and disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a tray holding three glasses of wine. “What can I get for the children?” she asked while offering each of the women a glass.

  “Nothing,” Savannah said. “I have a snack for them right here.” Using one hand, she pulled a quilt out of a diaper bag and, with Gladys’s help, opened it onto the floor in front of her. She lowered Teddy onto the quilt, then removed a container of watermelon bites and a small bottle of water from a canvas cooler. “Okay if Lily sits here and eats her fruit?”

  “Certainly,” Rochelle said, placing the tray on a table and picking up Teddy. “Will he get watermelon too? Let me give it to him.”

  “Okay, if you want to.” She handed Rochelle a cloth diaper. “For drool and spills,” she explained. “They really shouldn’t be hungry, but I like to offer something this time of day to help hydrate them and give them a little nourishment.”

  “You’re such a good mommy,” Rochelle said. “I’ll have to watch you this week and see how it’s done.”

  Savannah’s eyes lit up. “Are you…?”

  Rochelle frowned. “Not yet.”

  Michael smiled at the women, then said to Peter, “So you haven’t had any more trouble from your old manager, Dawna, have you?”

  “Yeah, what is she doing these days?” Savannah asked.

  “As far as I know,” Peter said, “she’s still trying to make her mark as an artist in LA. She has a following, and I’m happy for her. I just don’t want her breathing the air I breathe.”

  “She showed up at a show where we were exhibiting a while back,” Rochelle said.

  Peter picked up a toy Teddy had dropped. “Yeah, she was all sugar and spice.”

  Rochelle nodded. “On the outside.”