“Oh, hey, you guys,” said Windex. “You never told me you’ve got such great neighbors.”
“And you never told us,” said Rufus, “that Odelia adopted such a great new friend?”
“Yeah, about that,” I said, deciding to break the news to the tiny doggie before she heard it from someone else, “your human has been looking for you, Windex. In fact her daughter launched an appeal for you to be found and reunited with Mrs. Dobson.”
“But… I thought she couldn’t keep me?” said Windex, visibly surprised by this news.
“There seems to have been some kind of misunderstanding,” I said. “I don’t know how it happened, but when Mrs. Dobson was taken to the nursing home, you got left behind in the confusion of the move. And when her daughter returned for you, you were gone.”
“So… she wants me to live with her? At the nursing home?” asked the doggie, perking up at the prospect.
“Yeah, absolutely,” I said. “In fact they’ve been looking all over. Though why they didn’t simply contact the shelter I don’t know. Then again, maybe they thought you’d run away.”
“You are loved, Windex,” said Dooley emphatically.
Windex gave him a strange look.“Oh-kay. And so are you, Dooley.”
“Thanks,” said Dooley, lying down next to the others, satisfied that his work was done.
“So you’re leaving again?” asked Rufus. “So soon?”
“But we only just met,” said Fifi.
“It’s all right, you guys,” said Windex. “It’s a nursing home, not a prison. I’ll be able to sneak out at night, I’m sure. And then I can join you for this dog choir you mentioned.”
“We’d love to have you,” said Rufus. “We’re short on sopranos at the moment.”
And so it was arranged. Windex would join dog choir, which sounded like a better proposition for her than cat choir, and before long we returned home, where we bumped into Marge, who had already been in touch with Eileen Dobson’s daughter, who was dropping by later to pick up Windex. And true to her word, she did, and we all got to say goodbye to Windex while the younger Mrs. Dobson chatted with Marge and Tex.
Turns out that a neighbor had found Windex on the windowsill outside Mrs. Dobson’s house the day of the big move, and had misunderstood something Eileen had mentioned to her earlier, about the home not being amenable to pets. What Eileen had forgotten to mention was that they did make exceptions for small pets like Windex. And so the neighbor, who must have been a little confused, had decided to take Windex to the shelter herself, figuring Eileen had forgotten about her faithful canine companion.
“I had a great time,” said Windex, wiping away a tear. “You took me in when I was at a low ebb and gave me a home just when I needed one and I can’t thank you enough.”
“We could have been nicer,” I told her.
“Yeah, we kinda felt threatened by you,” Harriet admitted.
“Threatened! But why?”
“We thought you were going to replace us,” Dooley said, offering an apologetic smile.
“I would never want to replace you guys,” said Windex earnestly.
“I thought Odelia took you because dogs are better for babies than cats,” said Brutus.
“Oh, you guys!” said Windex, laughing. “That’s crazy!”
“I know,” I said ruefully. “And we see that now, Windex.”
“It’s fine, Max,” said the doggie, placing a tiny paw on my shoulder. “You took me in, you introduced me to a bunch of new friends, and generally I feel like I owe you one.”
“You really don’t,” Harriet assured her. “If anything, we owe you. For your friendship. And for showing us the error of our ways. We were too quick to judge. I was too quick to judge.”
“All of us were too quick to judge,” I grunted.
“Well, I never noticed a thing,” said Windex with a smile. “You were never anything less than nice to me, and I feel like I’ve made four friends for life these past couple of days. And hey, this is not goodbye. I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Absolutely,” I said warmly.
Several hugs later, we waved goodbye to Windex, and kept on waving until the car turned left at the end of the street and she was gone.
“I miss her already,” said Dooley, wiping away a tear.
“We behaved abominably, you guys,” said Harriet.
“Yeah, we should have been much nicer,” Brutus agreed.
“It’s fine,” I said. “We learned a valuable lesson.”
“That, we did,” said Harriet.
“What’s the lesson?” asked Dooley, curious.
“That dogs that look like bats aren’t necessarily evil,” I said. “And that babies that look like wrinkled raisins aren’t necessarily Satan’s spawn.”
“In other words,” said Brutus, “first impressions can be deceiving.” And as we returned to the house, he said conversationally, “Wanna know what I thought when we first met, Max?”
“Not necessarily.”
“I thought you were arrogant.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Yep. The most arrogant cat I’d ever met.”
“Huh. Odd, that.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s exactly what I thought of you.”
“Ha! You’re funny, Max.”
“I like to think so.”
“So very funny,” he said, and clapped me on the back so hard I almost buckled.
Sometimes first impressions can be deceiving. Other times? Not so much.
Chapter 25
I wouldn’t have minded spending a prolonged time at the hospital, keeping our human company, but hospitals don’t seem to be equipped to deal with the presence of pets on the premises. For one thing they don’t have a big stock of litter tucked away in the basement, or even bags of kibble for this particular occasion. So it was decided by the powers that be that we’d simply stay home instead. And so that first night it was just us and Chase, and frankly it wasn’t too bad. He more or less completely ignored us, and also he forgot to clean out our litter boxes. Plus he forgot to fill up our bowls, but luckily there was still Marge, who took care of all of that and more: she gave us those all-important cuddles.
“So when is Odelia coming home?” I asked the next morning. “Will she have to stay at the hospital long?”
“No, just a couple of days,” said Marge as she offered me a bowl filled with yummy wet food that tasted moreish. “If the baby is fine and so is she, she’ll be home soon.”
“I hope so,” I said, then realized how my words might be interpreted, and quickly added, “I mean, Chase is a wonderful pet parent, of course, but we’re so used to Odelia—”
“He forgot to feed you again, didn’t he?”
Both Dooley and I nodded sheepishly.
“I’ll tell him,” said Marge, and gave us both an extra-large helping of the good stuff, just to make up for her son-in-law’s failings in that department.
“I wonder how he’s going to manage with the baby,” said Dooley. “Is he going to forget to feed her, too? Or change her diaper?”
Marge grimaced.“Lucky for the little one there’s always Odelia, and also there’s us.”
“Is it true that babies drink milk that comes out of the mother?” asked Dooley. “Like pandas?”
Marge smiled.“Yes, Dooley. Human babies drink milk from their mothers, just like pandas. And in fact all mammals secrete milk for their young ones. It’s a common trait.”
“Oh,” said Dooley, wondering about this strange conceit. “So what role does Chase have to play?”
“I’d say the baby daddy has plenty of important tasks to fulfill in the young one’s life,” said Marge vaguely, though I had the impression her faith in Chase had taken a hit.