by Nic Saint
“You know, we probably would have been fine,” said Dooley, his teeth clattering a little. “We would have drifted in the direction of the nearest island and would simply have waited on the beach for Odelia to show up.”
“Or we would have drifted off in the direction of one of the poles—either to the north or south,” I said, my teeth also clattering. “Never to be seen or heard from again.”
“I’ll bet the South Pole is nice and warm, though. So I’d have preferred to drift there.”
“Don’t let the ‘south’ part in South Pole fool you, Dooley. It’s a pretty frosty place.”
The boat quickly joined the mother ship and soon we were being hoisted aboard. And who would be waiting for us there with bated breath but Odelia and Chase, both looking extremely worried.
“Max! Dooley!” said Odelia the moment we were placed on deck by our two able-bodied saviors. “I was so worried!”
“We’re fine,” I told her as she pressed me to her chest so hard my breath was expelled from my lungs with a whoosh.
“We would have drifted off to the South Pole,” said Dooley. “Max says it’s cold but I bet it’s nice and warm. And we probably would have caught some fishes on the way.”
“Oh, you guys,” said Odelia, and suddenly started crying. Actual big tears leaked from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, and now Chase had to come in and hug her close, while Dooley and I were more or less being squished between them.
“Why is she crying, Max?” asked Dooley. “We’re safe now, aren’t we? Or did we die and go to heaven?”
“No, we didn’t die and go to heaven. She’s crying because she was very worried about us and now she’s feeling very relieved and all that pent-up emotion is spilling over.”
“Humans are weird.”
“Tell me about it.”
Weird but also wonderful. Odelia had singlehandedly managed to stop that big boat and dispatch two guys to save us. It was almost like a miracle. Or the scenario of a Lifetime movie.
All around us, and also on the decks above, people were standing and watching the scene unfold, and the moment they saw that we were safe and sound, they all started cheering and clapping. It was an impressive scene, and judging from the hundreds of phones being held out, I had a feeling that we’d both become instantly famous.
Dooley had noticed the same phenomenon, and said in hushed tones, “We’re famous now, Max. We’re influencers! Next thing they’ll name a brand of kibble after us!”
Odelia carried us up the stairs, where we were met by all of our neighbors—our corridor-mates, so to speak. The influencers, Oren and Chiquita, were holding up their selfie sticks, grinning broadly. Laura and David came to tickle us under our chins, and even Ruby Kettering was smiling for a change, as were her parents. And finally when Odelia managed to let go of us and set us down on the deck, Salvatore came tripping up to us and said, “I saw the whole thing! Those mean birds!”
“You should watch out, Salvatore,” I told the tiny dog. “If they get the chance they’ll fly off with you, too.”
“And don’t I know it!” said Salvatore, and gestured to the leash Bertha’s carer had him on. “One sign of those birds and Adele will yank me back so fast those birds won’t know what hit them—and I won’t either.” He frowned. “Last time she gave me a yank like that I got rug burn on my tush.”
“Ouch.”
And as we started back toward our cabin, Salvatore said, “I didn’t know cats could swim. Well done, you guys. And so brave of you to jump after your friend, Max. I’ve never seen anything like it. When I saw you go in, I think my heart skipped three beats.”
“Max is very brave,” said Dooley, giving me a grateful smile. “He’s the bravest cat I know.”
“You would have done the same thing, Dooley,” I repeated my earlier statement.
“I would,” he said, nodding.
And thus ended our harrowing adventure. Odelia couldn’t wait to get us both inside and back to safety, and frankly the moment the door to the cabin swung closed behind us, I actually let out a sigh of relief.
Cruising is dangerous—especially for cats!
20
Odelia wanted to stay with us, but we urged her not to change her itinerary on our account. After all, we were safe now, and no harm was done to speak of, so there was absolutely no reason for her to interrupt her honeymoon for this minor incident.
And so she and Chase finally set out to go ashore and enjoy the sights and sounds of St. George’s, which is a town in Grenada, where apparently we’d dropped anchor.
Before she left, though, she placed her tablet computer on the sofa. She’d set it up so it connected with the ship’s Wi-Fi, and urged us to talk to our friends back home and tell them all of our news.
My teeth had finally stopped chattering, and my coat was dry once more, the salty water having been washed out by a patient Odelia in the bathroom. She’d applied the same treatment to Dooley, removing every last trace of brine, and to speed up the process had even aimed a blow-dryer at our precious bodies. Under normal circumstances I would never have stood for this, for I hate blow-dryers with a vengeance. But since the upshot was that we’d soon be warm and dry again, I reluctantly gave her a license to blow-dry just this once. It was actually nicer than I’d imagined and it was a contented Max and Dooley that now faced the camera to engage in a little post-disaster chat with Harriet and Brutus, located on the other end of the connection.
“You did what?!” asked Harriet when we told her what we’d just gone through. “You jumped in to save Dooley? Did you fall off the ship, Dooley? Did you lose your balance?”
“No, I was grabbed by a bird,” said Dooley.
“Grabbed by a bird?” asked Brutus. “But why? What did he want?”
“I guess he wanted to eat me?”
“I didn’t even know that birds ate cats. I always thought it was the other way around.”
“I didn’t know either,” I confessed.
“Some of the big birds do indeed prey on cats and other small mammals,” said Harriet. “They will grab mice and rats and rabbits… and even cats.”
“They tried to grab Max, too, but couldn’t lift him,” Dooley said.
“Dooley,” I said warningly. It hadn’t exactly been my finest hour.
“What? It’s a good thing they couldn’t lift you, Max. Very strategic of you.”
Strategy hadn’t featured into the thing, but I wasn’t prepared to elucidate.
“This would never have happened if you’d just stayed home, instead of going on this silly cruise,” said Harriet, who still hadn’t gotten over her initial annoyance that Odelia and Chase had picked us to go along with them and had left them at home.
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “Turns out cruises can be very dangerous for cats.”
“Not just for cats,” said Brutus. “Plenty of people end up falling overboard every year. Dozens and dozens, in fact.”
“But why?” asked Dooley.
“Oh, because they’re drunk, or not careful enough, and then there are the people who jump overboard on purpose.”
“And why would they do that?” asked Dooley, interested.
“Probably because they want to go for a swim,” said Harriet. “You know what humans are like. They like to court danger.”
“So what happened?” asked Brutus. “How did you get saved?”
“Well, Odelia told one of the crew members, who raised the alarm, and so the captain immediately stopped the boat, and dispatched a rescue boat,” I said.
“Only they thought they were saving two humans, and not two cats,” said Dooley with a laugh.
“Yeah, you should have seen the look on their faces when they discovered we were the ones they were coming to save.”
“And why not?” said Harriet. “Cats have just as much right to be saved as humans.”
“They were very nice about it in the end,” I said. “They wrapped us both in towels and rubbed us dry. All in all it was
a very interesting experience.”
“For one thing I discovered that I can swim,” said Dooley. “Imagine that. I always thought I couldn’t, but turns out I can.”
“How did you manage that, Dooley?” asked Brutus, who’d once fallen into a duck pond and had to be saved by Chase.
“I don’t know. I guess I just… floated. And then I moved my paws around a bit and that made me move in the direction I wanted to go.”
“Same here,” I said. “I think cats naturally float. So we shouldn’t have been so worried about not being able to swim. Turns out that we can.”
“Huh,” said Brutus, “Who knew?”
“Not me,” said Harriet. “I can’t swim. My coat is too nice and big and it soaks up water like a sponge. I’ll bet that when I end up in the water I’ll simply sink straight to the bottom like a stone.”
“No way,” said Brutus. “You can swim just as well as the rest of us, sugar plum.”
“No, I’m sure I can’t,” said Harriet stubbornly.
“Maybe you can give it a try,” I suggested. “In the park pond.”
“In the duck pond? No way, Max!” said Harriet. “You really want me to swim in all that horrible duck muck? My coat will be so dirty Marge won’t even let me into the house. I’ll never get it clean again—never!”
“I told Max we can use our adventure to become influencers,” said Dooley “and travel the world as a family from now on. You know, all of us living on a cruise ship?”
“No, thank you very much,” said Harriet. “I don’t want to be abducted by those same birds that almost killed you guys.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” said Dooley thoughtfully. Then his face cleared. “So maybe Odelia could put us all on leashes. Just like Salvatore.”
“Who’s Salvatore?” asked Brutus with a frown.
“You remember,” I said. “The teacup Maltese we met.”
“Oh, right,” said Brutus, already losing interest. Even though in a recent episode he’d fashioned himself to be a newly-born dog, he put that experience behind him, and had fully embraced his inner cat once more—those dog days nothing but a distant memory.
“Look, we have to go, you guys,” said Harriet. “Gran is shooting a video, and she told us she needs us.”
“Video?” I asked. “What video?”
“One of her new influencer videos.” She smiled. “You’re not the only ones who have started a career as influencers,” she said. “Looks like Brutus and I are going to be famous, too.”
And before we could ask her more about this influencer business, she signed off.
21
It took me a while to gather the courage to step out onto that balcony again. I kept seeing Frank and Jack swooping in and grabbing first Dooley, then me. But I figured one cannot live one’s life in fear, and so finally I screwed my courage to the sticking point—after first having taken on board a few extra ounces of kibble just to make sure—and put one dainty paw onto that balcony. I ducked my head out, then just as quickly retracted it.
So far so good: no seagulls in sight!
Then I placed my second paw out, and finally the rest of my blorange corpus followed suit. Just to be on the safe side, though, I hurried over to one of the two deck chairs, and disappeared underneath. Better safe than sorry!
And as I did, I caught a glimpse of our neighbor’s balcony, and for a brief moment I thought I saw movement.
I glanced over, wondering if Bertha had left Salvatore at home on this fine day, but saw no sign of the minuscule Maltese. All I saw were footprints—not paw prints. Probably someone had recently taken a shower.
And as I lay there, enjoying the day’s warmth, Dooley soon joined me. He, too, first ducked his head out, taking a quick glance at the azure skies above, before venturing further into the unknown.
“It’s all right, Dooley,” I said. “They’re not here.”
“I know, but birds can fly, Max, and they can fly fast. One moment they’re not there, the next they are!”
“Just lie underneath that deck chair. That way they can’t get at you.”
My friend did as I suggested, and soon we were both enjoying the leisurely calm.
“I wanted to thank you again, Max,” he said. “You really did a most heroic thing.”
“All I did was jump in the water, Dooley,” I said. “Nothing heroic about that.”
“It was very high.”
“It was,” I admitted.
“People have been known to break their bones when jumping from that altitude.”
I gulped a little at this. “You don’t say.” And me with my heavy bones.
“But since cats are much lighter than humans, we don’t fall down with the same velocity they do, so when we hit the water, it doesn’t feel like we’re hitting concrete.”
“Concrete,” I muttered, and gulped again. Dooley’s imagery was really doing a number on me.
“I wonder where those birds were taking us,” he continued ruminating on our recent ordeal. “Probably to their nest. Did you know that birds sometimes let their prey fall from a great height? It completely breaks up—”
“Dooley, please,” I said, starting to feel a little nauseous. “I just ate.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Max. It’s just that I wanted to point out how lucky we were.”
“I know.”
He was silent for a few beats, then said, “You’re my best friend, Max.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, still trying to keep down my lunch. “Oh,” I said, his words finally registering. “You’re my best friend, too, Dooley.”
“It’s good to have friends,” he said, then abruptly segued into a completely different topic: “Poor Salvatore.”
“Poor Salvatore? Why?”
“Well, he’s all alone, Max. He doesn’t have friends like we do.”
“He has his humans.”
“That’s not the same. Besides, he can’t talk to his humans like we can.”
“I think Salvatore is fine, Dooley. Dogs are different. They are happy to be with their humans.”
“Everybody needs a friend, Max,” said my friend sternly. “And so I’m going to ask Odelia to tell Bertha to get a second dog to keep Salvatore company.”
“Did you ask Salvatore if that’s what he wants?”
“No, I didn’t. This is going to be a surprise for him.”
“And what if he doesn’t want to have a friend? Maybe he’s happy the way things are.”
“You think so?”
“Absolutely.”
Once more he was quiet, presumably thinking about Salvatore and his lack of friends. “We could tell Bertha to take a parakeet,” he said.
“What?” I said, for I’d just fallen into a very pleasant light slumber.
“A parakeet.”
“Why would Salvatore want a parakeet for a friend?”
“I don’t know. But a feathered friend is always nice, don’t you think?”
I reminisced on our recent encounter with two feathered friends who hadn’t been very nice at all, and shivered. “Please don’t mention birds to me, Dooley. At least not for a little while.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Max. I just didn’t think—parakeets are nice birds, though. Not like—”
I arched a warning whisker in his direction.
“Okay, Max. I won’t mention birds again.”
I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep once more.
“Max?”
“Mh.”
“How about a gerbil? Gerbils are nice.”
“Please let me sleep, Dooley,” I muttered.
“Oh, of course, Max. Absolutely.”
Just then, there was a loud knock at the door.
“There’s a knock at the door, Max,” said Dooley.
“I know, Dooley,” I said. “I heard.”
The knock was repeated, louder this time, and a voice was added to the mix. It was Garth. “Odelia? Chase?”
A third and final knock, when it didn’t bri
ng the desired result, concluded the incident. Footsteps receded and finally faded away, and we were left with the burning desire to know why Garth had wanted speech with our humans.
It’s just one of those moments when one regrets the fact that an obviously benevolent and intelligent God didn’t outfit the feline species with opposable thumbs, enabling us to open doors and greet unexpected visitors.
22
The sound of laughter announced the return of the vacationers from their day spent ashore.
“I think they’re back,” I told Dooley, and stretched and yawned.
“I hope they had a good time,” said my friend, and followed my example.
The door opened and Odelia and Chase entered. When they didn’t immediately find us, Odelia cried, “Max! Dooley! Omigod, Chase, they’re gone!”
“Out here!” I yelled, hoping to nip this sudden panic attack in the bud. “We’re on the balcony!”
Odelia came hurrying out, and when she saw us lying under our respective chairs, placed a hand to her chest and expelled a shuddering breath. “Thank God you’re safe. I thought those birds had taken you again!”
“No birds are ever going to take us again,” I assured her. “Isn’t that right, Dooley?”
“I’m going to eat so much I’ll be as heavy as Max and then when they try to lift me up they won’t be able to do it,” Dooley announced happily.
I gave him a dark look, which entirely missed its mark, but at least Odelia didn’t look as if she was about to have heart failure. Chase also joined us outside, and both of our humans collapsed onto the deck chairs.
“And how was it?” I asked, quite unnecessarily, of course, for they both looked tanned and relaxed—even more tanned and relaxed than the previous day. If this kept up they’d both look like George Hamilton by the time we returned to Hampton Cove.