Cats of a Feather

by Patricia Fry

  “I imagine so. It’s quite grand,” Chris said.

  Savannah grinned. “While there are some squeaky floorboards, the heating system works well enough and the windows are no longer drafty because my husband’s passion, outside of his veterinary work, is building and remodeling.”

  “Beautiful,” Chris said. “Can’t wait to see his handiwork.”

  “Well, come in,” Savannah invited, opening the front door.

  ****

  Later that evening as Savannah and Michael prepared for bed, he asked, “So how’s it going with your new sidekick?”

  “Sidekick?” she repeated, chuckling. “I like her, but then I like smart women, and she’s smart. As my grandmother used to tell us girls, ‘hang around with women who are smarter than you are and you won’t tire of the friendship. The conversation will always be interesting, and you’ll forever have the opportunity to learn something new.’ She also told us to study hard and become well-educated, or the smart women won’t give us the time of day.”

  “Probably all good advice,” Michael said. “So Chris is smart?”

  “Yes. You’d have to be smart in order to become a scientist, especially to be involved in DNA research. Have you seen all of the formulas they use?” She sat down on the bed and asked, “Hey, you got home before we did this afternoon; did you get a chance to talk to Mom about Karl? Do you know what bombshell Jilly dropped after I left?” Michael shook his head. “I don’t know anything about it. Who’s Jilly?” “Karl’s daughter. How was Mom this afternoon?”

  “Fine, I guess. Maybe a little quiet, but that’s it. She was concerned about Teddy’s accident.”

  “He seems okay, doesn’t he?” Savannah asked. “He played as usual and ate a good dinner…”

  “And charmed our guest,” Michael added. “He sure seemed to be flirting with her.”

  “I know,” Savannah agreed. “I’ve never seen him act that way. And Chris was eating it up.”

  “So what does Chris think of your cat?” he asked. “She was watching him awfully closely. Is he a scientific project for her or something?”

  “I don’t think so. She read his meowmoirs. She was probably waiting for him to do something interesting, but he was kind of dull tonight.”

  Michael nodded. “Yes he kept pretty much to himself.”

  “Oh, Chris knows horses too,” Savannah said. “She thinks Gypsy might have lost some vision, and that’s maybe why she reacted so oddly when Teddy fell into her corral.” She raised her eyebrows. “You should have seen Rags stand up to her, trying to keep her away from Teddy. It was amazing.”

  “Did you get pictures for Rob?” he asked. “Rags’s agent would surely be interested in that story.”

  “No. I didn’t even think of it because I was so worried about Teddy. But I can describe it. It was pretty bizarre to see this silly cat standing as tall as he could against a huge horse that seemed to be threatening to step on him.” She shuddered. “It was scary.”

  Michael frowned. “I imagine. Well, we’d better check out Chris’s theory. I hope the mare isn’t losing her sight. That wouldn’t be good, although I know people with horses that are blind in one eye.” He slipped between the sheets and pulled her down with him. “So what’s on the agenda for you and Chris tomorrow?”

  “I think Janice is coming over here for lunch. Chris will continue observing Rags, and we’ll go over my notes with regard to Rags’s siblings. She’d like to go with me down south to speak with some of the people on my list. She brought her kit so she can swab the cats we meet to check their DNA against Rags’s.”

  “When will you be doing that?” he asked.

  “Chris and I are thinking about going day after tomorrow, if it’s okay with you and Mom. She’s here, and she even packed a little heavy in case we had the opportunity to go this week. And I have a bead on most of the key players in Rags’s history, so we shouldn’t be gone long.”

  Michael asked, “You won’t take Rags, will you?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve thought about it, and Chris really wants me too, but…”

  “Yeah, I understand that but,” Michael said. “Do you want it to be a pleasant trip, or…”

  “Yes, but if I happen to find April and Jazzie while we’re there, I’d really like to see how Rags reacts to them.”

  “April and Jazzie?” he repeated

  “Rags’s sisters,” she explained. “At least those were their names when they were adopted, according to Marilyn at the shelter. Can you believe they keep records like that? Plus, she said she remembers Rags.” She winced. “And not exactly in a good way. I guess he caused a lot of trouble at the shelter when he was there.”

  “Well, he wanted out so he could find you and live happily ever after in Hammond,” Michael quipped.

  “I guess so,” Savannah agreed, grinning.

  When Michael heard his phone chime, he reached for it. “Now, who could that be this time of night?” He looked at the screen and announced, “It’s Bud. Hey, Bud,” he said into the phone, “what’s up?”

  “That kitten is coming in again—Foxy, the one with the broken leg. He has managed to shimmy out of the cone and remove some of the bandages. They just can’t keep him calm, and I’m reluctant to give him a larger dose of the sedative. He seems to react badly to it.”

  “Can they confine him in a smaller enclosure?” Michael suggested.

  “I guess he goes berserk when they do. Hey, Dr. Mike, it occurred to me that your new calico might be able to help with this kitten.”

  “Say what?” Michael questioned.

  “Yeah, you had that cat at the clinic last week when Mrs. Stevens brought the kitten in. Remember how quiet Foxy became when your cat sat with him that little while? We were all shocked at the difference. I was just about to sedate him in order to fit the splint, but when your calico jumped up onto the table with Foxy, he calmed right down.”

  “Yes, I remember that. Are you suggesting that we send Glori to the Stevens’s house as Foxy’s caregiver?”

  “Something like that,” Bud said. He hesitated before adding, “Or you could take Foxy home with you.”

  “To this house full of kids and critters?” Michael complained.

  “Sorry,” Bud said, “it was just a thought.”

  “Wait, you may be on to something. Savannah will be gone for a few days. She might even take Rags with her. I could bring Foxy home overnight and see if he’ll settle down with Glori. I could take both Glori and Foxy to the clinic during the day so we could continue keeping an eye on him. Hey, you say he’s coming in for bandage repair this evening?”

  “Yes.”

  Michael glanced at his watch. “Okay, I’ll meet you there with Glori, and let’s see what happens. We’ll go from there in deciding what to do with the crafty boy.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Mike,” Bud said. “I haven’t had a patient so bent on self-destruction since old Bart Raleigh’s goat—you know, the one that had a vendetta against their tractor? I’m willing to try anything.”

  “A problem at the clinic?” Savannah asked after Michael ended the call.

  He grinned at her. “Glori and I have been summoned to work.”

  “Why Glori?” she asked.

  “Well, she was there at the clinic the day a very active kitten named Foxy came in with a broken leg. Bud was having quite a time with him until Glori jumped up onto the exam table. I guess she heard the commotion and she wanted to see what was going on.”

  “You let her run free at the clinic?” Savannah asked.

  “Sometimes. I keep a close eye on her. Anyway, she was a big help that day, so Bud wants me to bring her to the clinic tonight, hoping that she can calm Foxy enough that we can put on a sturdier splint.”

  “Need help?” she asked.

  He considered her offer, then said, “No, I think we’ll be okay. His owners will be there, along with Bud and me and Glori. You’d probably just be in the way.” He kissed her. “Anyway, you need your rest. You�
�ve been a busy girl.”

  When Rags jumped up onto the bed and lay at her feet, Savannah snuggled down into the blankets and smiled. “Okay, Rags and I’ll wait here for you. See you later.”

  ****

  Savannah was awakened more than an hour later when Michael climbed into the bed. “How’d it go?” she asked, sleepily.

  “Good,” he said. “I brought home a guest. He’s in the office in Rags’s travel pen. Glori’s sticking pretty close to him, and he’s behaving—you know, staying calm. I also plugged in a pheromone diffuser. You don’t mind helping Glori keep an eye on Foxy tomorrow, do you?”

  “No,” she said. “A lot of people bring their work home. Why not a veterinarian? So is Glori okay with having to babysit the kitten?”

  “I guess she is. I put one of Buffy’s canopy beds in the room next to the pen, and she climbed right in.”

  “Who’ll take care of him when you’re at work—that is, if I decide to go south later in the week?”

  “I figured I’d take them to the clinic with me. Glori can stay with him in the large pen, don’t you think so?”

  “Sure, if she doesn’t mind.” Savannah thought for a moment and said, “Wow! To think that we wound up with another super-sensitive cat. How unusual.” She propped herself up on her elbow. “Michael, maybe Glori’s actually related to Rags.”

  “Now, Savannah,” he said, pulling the blankets up over himself, “let’s not get too carried away with this DNA ancestral thing. It would be a real long shot to learn that out of the millions of homeless cats in the world, we adopted one that’s related to Rags.”

  ****

  “Did I hear someone drive away last night?” Gladys asked at breakfast the next morning.

  Michael nodded. He ruffled Glori’s fur as she walked by, saying, “This little girl and I had to help Bud with a small patient at the clinic.”

  Chris chuckled. “That sweet calico? How so? Did she donate blood or bone marrow or…”

  “No,” Michael said. “She helped to calm him so we could treat him.”

  “What kind of patient,” Gladys asked, “bobcat, bear cub, eagle?”

  “A kitten,” Michael said matter-of-factly. “A small-but-mighty kitten named Foxy.”

  “Do you often require your animals’ assistance with unruly or frightened patients?” Chris asked. Before Michael could answer, she said, “I read something in Rags’s memoirs about him being sensitive to other animals, didn’t I? Are you saying Glori has the same qualities or abilities?” “It appears so,” Savannah said. “Michael doesn’t want to consider this, but I have to wonder if Glori’s related to Rags. I think I told you that one of his sisters is a calico.”

  Chris stared across the room at Rags as he washed his face with his paws. “It’s possible I guess, but what are the odds?”

  “That’s what I told her,” Michael said.

  Chris smiled. “There’s one way to find out!”

  “You mean test her?” Savannah asked.

  “Sure,” Chris said. “Let’s swab her and Rags and see what we come up with. That would be a kick to find out she’s his great-great-great, niece or something.” She looked down at Rags again. “Actually, I want to grab his DNA anyway, so we’ll have it to compare when we start swabbing his possible siblings and especially the sire, if we locate any suspects.” Chris stood up and carried her dishes to the counter, rinsed them, and loaded them into the dishwasher. “I’ll go get my test kit.” She looked around. “Where’d Glori go?”

  “Probably back to her patient,” Michael said. He placed his dishes on the sink counter. “Come on, I’ll show you where they are.”

  “Great, I’d like to see the support-cat in action. I’d also like to meet the little critter,” Chris said.

  “Sure. I think they’re staying here with you gals today.” He looked at Savannah. “Or are you going out gallivanting?”

  “We’ll be home,” Savannah said. “So you might as well leave them here; we can keep an eye on them.”

  “Goodie,” Chris said. “Can I hold him?”

  Michael shrugged. “I don’t know why not. In fact, he does better when he’s with someone. I think he needs the companionship for confidence. His folks both work and he’s an only cat. I’ve suggested they go back to the shelter and adopt another kitten—once Foxy is healed up, that is.”

  “Good idea,” Savannah said. She frowned. “Although it would be interesting to know how Foxy got hurt. Do you know, Michael?”

  “Yes, it was a recliner-chair accident. Those things are dangerous for kittens. I’ve seen too many…” He glanced around at the others. “I just wish there was some device to prevent kittens and other small animals from going into the mechanism inside those chairs.”

  Chris looked at Michael. “There are ways to protect kittens from recliners. People use all sorts of deterrents—mousetraps, citrus scent, spray bottle…the best one I’ve seen is to drape a sheet or a blanket around the opening in a way that the chair still operates while blocking the area underneath. I thought that was such a good idea I saved the article.”

  “I’d like a copy of that to share with our clients,” Michael said. “But what we really need is for manufacturers to build a foolproof safety feature into those chairs—you know, something that will absolutely protect our small household pets—kittens, puppies, and even ferrets and wild critters people sometimes find and raise.”

  Chris nodded.

  Michael took a breath and asked, “So, do you ladies want to kitten-sit today?”

  “Sure do,” Savannah said, following him and Chris into the office.

  “We’re getting a kitten?” Lily asked, joining them.

  Chris smiled. “Your children are so cute.”

  “Glori has a kitten friend here today,” Michael explained to Lily. “They’re having a sleepover.”

  “Can I play with the kitten?” Lily chirped, moving closer to the pen. She frowned. “What’s wrong with his leg?”

  Savannah put one arm around Lily. “Honey, the kitten is hurt real bad and he can’t come out and play right now. But you can talk to him while he’s in his pen and maybe pet him gently.”

  Lily looked concerned. “I can fix him with my doctor set.”

  “Let’s wash the breakfast off your hands first,” Savannah said. Before she could usher Lily toward a bathroom, Gladys joined them with Teddy in her arms. “Is he finished eating?” Savannah asked. She chuckled. “Looks like he’s wearing most of his breakfast. Oh, Teddy,” she lamented. “Don’t you know those strawberries are supposed to go inside you—not in your hair?”

  “A budding scientist,” Chris said.

  “Huh?” Savannah muttered.

  “We want to explore the things around us in a totally different way than most people do.”

  Savannah shook her head. “Well if that’s the definition of a scientist, I guess he’s headed for that field.”

  “Got your swabs?” Michael asked Chris. “Want to get the sample now?”

  “I’ll go get my kit,” she said. “Be right back.” When she returned, she moved closer to the pen. “The poor baby. That apparatus is bigger than he is.” She faced Michael. “He looks calm.”

  “Yes, he seems to be, as long as Glori’s near.”

  Chris petted Glori. “What a special kitty you are. You have special powers. Yes, you do.” She looked at Savannah. “So why isn’t Rags in here? According to what I’ve read, he’s the kitten magnet and he seems to know when he’s needed.”

  Savannah shrugged. “Yeah, maybe he realizes he isn’t needed this time.” She ran her hand over the calico’s fur. “Glori’s got this one, huh, Glori?”

  “Hey, hold on to her and I’ll swab her,” Chris suggested.

  “Sure.” After only a few moments, Savannah said, “Well, that was easy and quick. Want to do Rags now?”

  After securing and labeling the swab, Chris said, “Yeah, where is he?”

  “I’ll go get him,” Savannah offered, l
eaving the room. When she returned with Rags, she found Lily sitting on the floor holding little Foxy on her lap. Glori sat next to them, and Michael stood a short distance away. “Awww. Isn’t he cute?” Savannah crooned. She said to Rags, “Look, have you met Glori’s guest yet? See the cute kitten? That’s Foxy.”

  When Rags saw the kitten, he struggled to get down, and Savannah placed him on the floor next to Glori. Rags walked closer to the kitten and began sniffing him until Glori stepped in front of him. Rags navigated around her and approached the kitten again. This time, Glori stepped onto Lily’s lap between the kitten and Rags.

  “Now there’s a picture for you,” Michael said, laughing. “Lily and her lap full of kitty-cats.”

  Savannah quickly pulled her phone from her pocket and snapped a few pictures. “Glori,” she scolded, when the calico sat so close to the kitten that he toppled over.

  “No, Glori,” Lily said, catching the kitten before he fell. “Stop it.”

  “I don’t think she wants big brother bothering her patient,” Savannah said, picking up Rags and snuggling with him.

  Lily looked up at Rags. “He can’t play, Rags. See, he has a broken leg.”

  Michael chuckled. “There’s not much to pet with all that stuff on him, is there, punkin?”

  “No,” Lily said, “but he’s soft right here on his back.”

  Chris smiled down at the child, then asked Savannah, “Want to hold Rags for me while I swab him?”

  “Sure,” Savannah said, turning the cat’s head toward Chris. “Open wide,” she coached.

  “Another great grab,” Chris said. “You have some awesome cats.”

  “Thank you. We love them.” Savannah lowered Rags to the floor and he immediately joined Lily and began sniffing the kitten again. When he felt something touch his tail, he jumped straight up and turned to find himself face-to-face with Buffy.

  “She sneaked up on you, did she?” Michael asked, laughing.

  “Yeah, I’ve never seen Buffy get the best of Rags before,” Savannah said. “Look at her, she’s practically gloating.”