by Patricia Fry
“How many people do you think we’ve fed so far?” Savannah asked as she followed Max out to the serving area.
“I’d say close to a hundred. We have enough for maybe another hundred.” He asked Savannah, “Are people leaving after they eat or hanging around and eating more?”
“Well, I think a lot of them are staying. I’ve seen several in the line more than once. I’ve noticed quite a few people taking plates to the grassy area and eating under the trees. Most of them, it seems, have dogs. Michael and Bud are probably busy. Did you know they’re providing meals for the animals, too?”
“Really?”
“Yeah, a local pet store donated kibbles for dogs and cats as well as flea-control meds.” She laughed. “One guy had a rat with him. He said he feeds her dog food.” Savannah looked at Max. “Hey, I want to go check on Lily before the next onslaught of hungry people.” She laughed. “I’d better check on my aunt, my sister, and Colbi too. I’ve seen a lot of children headed toward the little tots’ playground. They’re probably overwhelmed by now.”
Max shook his head. “I’ll hear all about it tonight.”
“Oh hi, Bud,” Savannah said when she saw him walking toward her and Max. “How’re things going at the clinic?”
He tilted his head. “Interesting.”
“In a good way or a bad way?” Max asked.
“Well…” he stalled, “both, I guess. We’ve been able to help some of the animals. We just hope pet owners will follow up with us. Some of the dogs and cats should have tests we can’t do here and some will probably need continuing treatment or at least medication.” He began to laugh.
“What’s funny?” Savannah asked. “It all sounds rather dismal.”
Bud cocked his head. “Oh, there are certainly bright spots. We’ve been able to protect quite a bunch of dogs from getting parvo and distemper and we’ve inoculated a few cats.”
“How do you know what they need?” Savannah asked. “I mean, most of the owners probably don’t have a clue about their pets’ medical history, do they?”
“You’re so right,” Bud said. “But we now have access to simple tests for serious diseases for both cats and dogs, to be used in situations like this—in the field, you might say. We can determine if a dog or a cat is protected against certain diseases in a matter of minutes.”
“No more sending samples to an overnight lab?” she asked.
He shook his head. “We use the lab in most cases, but these quick tests are perfect in situations like we’re dealing with here today.” He chuckled again. “What I was laughing about is your cat.”
“Uh-oh, what did he do?” Savannah asked hesitantly. “Has he been a good diplomat for the patients?”
“Well, kinda-sorta, I guess.” Bud became more serious. “He does seem to calm the cats and even some of the dogs who are nervous or frightened. But he sure plays favorites.”
“How’s that?” Max asked, chuckling.
Bud scratched his head. “Well, he seems to prefer small dogs, which I can certainly understand, and he favors tabby cats.” He grinned. “Doesn’t matter the color—orange, grey, dilute—but when a little dog or a tabby comes in, he’s right up on the table with them, sniffing around. He’ll sit and watch them while they’re being examined and if a cat or a pup seems nervous, he’ll bump them with his head or lie down next to them. Sometimes he makes it a little awkward for us to do our job. But what are you going to do? He definitely calms the animals.”
“Awww, my good boy,” Savannah said, smiling.
“Yeah, he’s one of a kind, that cat,” Max said. He turned to leave. “Better get back to the kitchen. See you both later.”
“Bye, Max,” Savannah called.
Bud nodded in Max’s direction, then addressed Savannah, “He has spent time with the homeless, hasn’t he?”
“Who, Max?” she asked.
“No, your cat.”
“Oh, yes, he has. When he found Mr. Kittleman,” Savannah recalled.
“I think he’d like to go back,” Bud said.
“What?”
He grinned. “Well, he keeps trying to leave with some of our patients. Michael’s had to put him in the pen a couple of times because he was so bent on following a cat or a dog out. Some people have even tried to negotiate a trade for him.”
“What?” Savannah yelped. “What kind of a trade?”
Bud winked at her. “Oh, so you’d consider it if the bounty was high enough?”
“No, of course not,” she insisted. “I was just curious. What would a homeless person have worth trading?”
“Oh, a fancy watch this guy’s father had supposedly given to him when he graduated from college; a packet of food stamps, which I’m pretty sure were outdated; and one gal offered Dr. Mike a massage.”
She frowned. “A massage?”
“Yup. He said no. I guess he likes your cat.”
“Well, he tolerates Rags.” She smiled. “But I’m glad to know Rags is actually helping rather than hindering today.”
“Yeah, well, pretty much. Hey, I need to scoot. I want to get us a plate of food before it’s all gone.”
Savannah glanced toward the serving table. “I’d better get back there, too—after I check on Lily.”
“I just saw her with Brianna. She seems to be having fun.” He grinned. “She’s sort of a rainbow child at the moment.” When Savannah gave him a questioning look, he explained, “They were finger painting and your daughter is wearing just about every color in the rainbow on her face, arms, hands…”
“I hope it’s the washable stuff,” Savannah muttered under her breath. When Bud asked what she had said, she shook her head. “Nothing. Thanks, Bud. See you later.” She spotted Lily immediately upon approaching the little tots’ playground. How cute. Bri’s pushing her around in that child-size car. Looks like she’s having a blast. “Hi, punkin,” she called. “Are you driving a car?”
“Auntie Bri, me, drive car,” she chirped. “Me drive, Mommy.”
“Yes, I see that. Are you having fun?” she asked.
Lily nodded.
“I hear you were painting,” Savannah said.
At that, Lily stood and started to climb out of the car. Brianna lifted her to the ground and the toddler ran to the activities table.
“I think she wants to show you her painting,” Brianna said. She hurried after Lily and caught up to her as the child started pushing the painted pictures around on the tabletop. “Wait, Lily, here’s yours, princess. It’s still a little wet. Let Auntie Bri help you, okay?”
“Me paint.” Lily looked at her hands, which were still slightly stained with a variety of colors. “Paint hands,” she declared, holding them up for Savannah to see.
“Yes, you sure did paint your hands. Pretty,” she said, kissing the palm of one pudgy hand. “And your picture is beautiful. Mommy loves it, punkin.”
“Kiss picture?” Lily invited.
“No, I don’t think Mommy will kiss your picture, honey. In fact, if you’re doing okay here, I’d better get back to my station. Someone might be hungry.”
“Me hungry,” Lily said.
“Oh, how could you be hungry?” Margaret asked, approaching with two children in tow. You just ate a plate of mashed potatoes and a bunch of turkey.”
“Peas,” Lily said.
“Yes, and peas.”
“Peas,” she repeated.
“You want more peas?” Brianna asked.
Lily nodded and sat down at the table, waiting to be served.
“Do you have more here or do you want me to bring you some from the kitchen?” Savannah asked.
Brianna thought for a moment, then said, while walking away, “I think there are a couple more helpings in the classroom.”
Savannah looked around the playground. “So how are you ladies doing?”
“Good,” Margaret said. “The kids are so cute at this age.” She gazed out toward the playgr
ound for the older children. “I don’t think I’d be able to handle those kids. Look how wild they are. I prefer these tiny tots.” She moved closer to Savannah and said more quietly, “There was one bully, but he didn’t stay long.” Her eyes wide, she continued, “And once we had over a dozen little ones running around in here. Six is manageable. That’s one for each hand for each of us.” She looked at the two children she’d ushered over. “Aren’t they cute?”
Savannah smiled down at the little boy and girl with Margaret. “Sure are.” She then asked, “Is Lily interacting with the other kids okay?”
“Actually, no one pays much attention to the others,” Brianna said, returning with a bowl of peas for Lily. “I guess they don’t play together at this age.”
Suddenly, Margaret took a quick breath. “Uh-oh, here he comes again. Grab him!” she shouted.
When Savannah looked in the direction Margaret indicated, she let out a sigh. “Rags.”
Brianna chuckled. “Yeah, this is the third time he’s joined us out here. I think he wants to play with the children.” She reached down and petted the cat as he rubbed against her legs.
“Cat!” one of the toddlers shouted.
“My kitty,” Lily said.
“No, mine,” the child insisted.
“My kitty,” Lily repeated more loudly.
Colbi walked up and grabbed Rags’s leash. “Oh dear, don’t tell me we have another debate going on.” She handed the leash to Savannah. “Want to take him back?”
Margaret chuckled. “Here comes Bud.” She called out to him, “Not getting much work done are you?”
He shook his head. “He’s high-maintenance.” When he saw Savannah, he said, “Oh hi, Savannah.”
“You didn’t tell me he’s been escaping, Bud.”
Looking sheepish, he said, “Didn’t want you to think we don’t have a handle on things.” He winced. “I had no idea he was as…um…creative as he is. He’s had me on the run all afternoon.”
“Getting your exercise, are you, babe?” Brianna asked.
“I guess I am.” Bud picked up Rags. “Come on, cat. I think you need to spend some time in your pen.” He scratched Rags around the neck. “Want a time-out, huh? How about a nap? Lord knows, I could use one.”
The women laughed as Bud walked away, still muttering to the wily cat.
****
“Well, you survived a day of serving the homeless, Auntie,” Savannah said after almost everyone had left, the kitchen had been cleaned, and the tables were cleared and put away. “How do you feel?”
“How do I feel? Tired, that’s how. I must have walked—no run—twenty miles chasing after all those little ragamuffins.”
“Ragamuffins?” Savannah questioned.
“Yeah, cute, adorable ragamuffins. It was fun but, my oh my, exhausting.”
“How’d you do, Craig?” Savannah asked. “I hear you ate more pie than you served.”
Before he could respond, Iris squealed in delight and walked quickly toward the parking lot. “Hi, Son,” she said as Damon approached carrying three-week-old Rosemary. “I’ll take her,” she offered, scooping the baby into her arms. She returned to the group, who were milling around near the church kitchen recapping their day.
Damon followed. When he saw Colbi, he walked up and kissed her.
“How did it go this afternoon?” Colbi asked him, gazing at their baby in Iris’s arms.
“Piece of cake,” Damon said, smiling. “She was asleep when I picked her up from Leah and Harrison. They said she’d been asleep most of the time she was there. I got home with her around two and she slept, ate, pooped, burped, and slept some more.” He studied Colbi’s face. “You look tired.”
“Yeah, I found out today how much energy we’re going to need when Rosemary turns two.”
After Savannah and Margaret both approached the new grandmother and took a peek at the baby, Iris asked, “So nothing awful happened today, right, Maggie?”
“No, thank heavens. Everyone was pleasant.” She crinkled her nose. “There were some weirdoes, of course. But most of the parents were pretty normal—just having some rough times, I suppose.”
“Bingo,” Damon said. “Not all of the homeless are druggies and criminals. When I was living in that world, I met some cool folks who had made some poor financial decisions or gotten caught up in a scam or something and had no one to turn to for help. Some only lasted on the streets for a short time…it took a few a lot longer to recover.”
“Some never do get it together,” Craig added. “In my line of work, I run into the same knuckleheads on the streets getting into the same kind of mischief over and over.”
“You’re right there,” Damon agreed. “They’re usually mental cases who don’t think they need to take their medications or who are searching for their peace in drugs. I saw all of the above during the few hours I was helping out here this morning.”
“Did you see anyone you know?” Brianna asked.
“A couple. I don’t think they remembered me.”
“Yeah, but look how much you’ve changed,” Margaret insisted.
Colbi ran her hand over Damon’s curly dark-red hair and smiled. “I wouldn’t recognize you either, from that picture you showed me with those awful dreadlocks and the way you were dressed.”
“That wasn’t dreadlocks,” Damon said. “Just tangles.”
Colbi rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, right.” She then said, “I saw some of the women we met that time we wrote the newspaper story about the homeless and visited them at their camp. One of the gals recognized me and we spoke briefly. Remember Carol and Florence?”
“Sure, how are they?”
“The same.”
Damon nodded. “Yeah, that’s how it is with some. They stay the same. They figure out how to live minimally—find their comfort zone—and there they stay.”
“Well, we sure gave them a nice Thanksgiving meal they won’t soon forget,” Max said. “I guess they’re doing it again at Christmas. Did anyone sign up?”
Savannah looked at Michael. “I think we will. How’d it go with the cats and dogs?” she asked him. “Bud said you were pretty busy.”
“Mostly chasing your cat,” Margaret said, laughing.
Michael grinned. “He was a bit of a distraction at times. But I swear he did his job well, calming the frightened cats and small dogs.” He laughed. “He even helped one large pit bull-mix—I don’t know why those people insist on adopting pit bulls, of all animals. But we saw a lot of them today, didn’t we, Bud?”
“Sure did.”
“What did he do to help the pit bull?” Savannah asked, wide-eyed.
“Well, the poor dog was so nervous. You know, she probably hadn’t been inside a building before. I’ll bet that’s what had her freaked out. But Rags walked up to her and sat a distance away at first. When the dog saw him, she just stood there and stared. There was no aggressive behavior, just curiosity.”
“Yeah, but what happened next was the shocker,” Bud said.
“What?” several of the others asked.
Bud glanced at Michael. “Well, once the dog—Roxie was her name—once she sat down, Rags walked up to her and bumped her like he does.”
Savannah gasped. “Oh my gosh, a pit bull?”
“A large pit bull,” Michael said. “Probably part mastiff. There’s more.” When everyone gave him their attention, Michael continued, “Rags sat with Roxie for a few minutes at the doorway, then he walked into the room slowly and she followed.”
“Everyone stood in awe,” Bud added, “watching the cat lead this big scary dog into the clinic.”
“Wow!” Savannah said. “And did the dog cooperate during the exam?”
“Yes, as long as Rags stayed close.” Michael chuckled. “When someone brought an orange tabby in, Rags took off to check him out. The tabby didn’t want to be friendly though, so Rags came back to sit with Roxie.”
�
��Incredible,” Colbi said. “You know, you can’t make up the stuff he does.” She said to Savannah, “You ought to keep a Rags journal.”
“Yeah, I should.”
“Will you be doing a clinic at the Christmas feast for the homeless?” Max asked.
Michael looked at Bud before responding. “If it appears there’s a need.”
“I think there’s definitely a need,” Bud confirmed.
Damon took advantage of the break in conversation and whispered to his wife, “Let’s get you home.” He took Rosemary from Iris, who kissed the baby on the head before giving her up. “See you all later,” Damon called, walking away with his family.
Iris looped her arm through her husband’s. “We’d better go home and see what’s brewing with the boys.”
Craig grinned playfully. “You say brewing? Yeah, I’m ready for a brew. Where are you parked?” he asked.
Iris gazed into the parking lot. “Oh, out there somewhere. Bye, y’all,” she called out as the couple walked off.
Savannah waved. “See you later, Iris…Craig.”
“Hey, Sis, when’s Mom coming?” Brianna asked.
“Middle of December—in about three weeks. She’ll stay until after Christmas.”
“I thought she was going to help out here today. What happened?”
“Oh, I guess something came up. But she’s looking forward to helping with Christmas dinner. Bri, will you have any time off while Mom’s here?”
“Yeah, actually. I’m taking the week before Christmas.”
“Are you going someplace?”
“Maybe for a few days.” Brianna looked coyly at Michael. “…if Dr. Mike will let Bud off.”
“Sure, probably. Steve and Pamela can take over.” He looked at Bud. “But I would like to have you work with me at the Christmas clinic if we decide to do one.”
Bud nodded.
Max looked at Michael. “Aren’t you taking any time off to enjoy the holidays?”
“You know, I just might be able to work something out. Good idea there, Max.” He addressed Savannah, “Hey, when’s the last time we went someplace? Two summers ago to Peter’s beach house?” He raised his eyebrows as he recalled, “And we went to Hawaii last year in February.”