And then there was the meowing. Oh, dear Lord, there was so much meowing going on, and mewling, and mewing, and even caterwauling.
It was frankly a little disconcerting to realize that there existed this entire cat population in Hampton Cove that he hadn’t fully been aware of until now.
Max, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus seemed a lot more relaxed about the prospect of encountering this many felines than he was: they mingled with the others, and soon he couldn’t even make out where they’d gone off to. They’d disappeared in a sea of fur.
So he simply took a seat on one of the benches placed there for the moms and dads watching their kids play, and thought that any would-be cat killer would have to be seriously suicidal to try and attack the cats on their own turf, where they were clearly in the majority, and would stand no nonsense.
His phone chimed and he picked it out of his pocket. “Hey, babe,” he said.
“And? How are you holding up, Mr. Catsitter?”
“Frankly, babe? I don’t think your cats need a catsitter at all. There’s so many cats here this cat killer would have to be absolutely crazy to try and attack them.”
“I still appreciate you watching out for them. Oh, and watch out for the…”
Just at that moment the caterwauling had reached a crescendo, and he couldn’t make out what Odelia was saying. It sounded a lot like ‘shoes,’ which of course was just nuts.
But just then, completely out of the blue, a shoe struck him in the head, and he grunted with dismay. The shoe dropped into his lap and he saw that it was an old shoe, and a sturdy one, too.
“What the…” he muttered as he picked it up and studied it. And that’s when a second shoe hit him in the chest. “Oh, for crying out loud!” he said, and got up, glancing around. And then he saw it: in one of the houses facing the park the lights had come on, and an irate citizen was screaming, “Damn cats with your damn screaming every damn night!”
Yep. This was going to be a looooong night.
Poor Chase was being pummeled by one of our regulars. There are people in this world who appreciate art, and then there are the cultural barbarians, who hate it. And it was just our rotten luck that the park where we like to practice our art is surrounded by these cultural barbarians, who choose to express their disapproval of our nocturnal activities by throwing shoes and other objects in our direction.
I’ve long since passed the moment where I truly care about this peculiar human habit, but obviously Chase, being subjected to this abuse for the very first time, was shocked to be on the receiving end of several items of footwear.
Although in actual fact it had happened before, and in our own backyard, no less, where our next-door neighbor Kurt Mayfield is also a very avid shoe thrower.
Chase now stood shaking his fist at the irate homeowners who stood shaking their fists at us. All in all, the cop wasn’t having a good time, I could tell. And I felt for him.
“Maybe we should tell Odelia to call off this guard duty thing,” I suggested now.
“But what if the cat killer strikes again?” said Dooley. “I feel much safer knowing Chase is right there keeping an eye on us, Max.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I felt much safer, too.
“I think Chase should do this all the time,” said Harriet. “I’ve always wanted my own bodyguard. Makes me feel like a real star. Like Kim Kardashian or Gwyneth Paltrow.”
I’m not sure Chase would enjoy the prospect of being reduced to mere guard duty, on the same level as Kim or Gwyneth’s bodyguards, but then the man couldn’t understand what we said, so it wasn’t as if he’d ever know.
“I think it’s great,” said Brutus. “And in fact I think this guard duty should probably be expanded. No man can guard us twenty-four-seven hours all by his lonesome. It takes at least two guards to do the job the way it’s supposed to be done. Or maybe even four, as no guard worth his or her salt likes to do this alone. Two teams of two guards is what this job requires, and so I’m going to tell Odelia she should recruit three more cops.”
“I doubt whether Uncle Alec will agree,” I said. “His cops probably have more important things to do than to guard Odelia’s cats all the time.”
“What could be more important than making sure that we’re safe?” asked Harriet, and I had the impression the question was a rhetorical one, so I didn’t answer.
Kingman, who’s one of our best friends and also our local cat population’s unofficial mayor, came waddling over. He’s a very large cat, and contrary to myself doesn’t have his big bones to blame for his sizable form.
“What’s your human doing here?” he asked, casting curious glances at Chase, who’d taken a seat on his bench again, but was eyeing the shoe thrower with a kindling eye.
“We were in the attic this morning and then we were locked up inside a box and then the box was set on fire with us still in it, and even though we did a lot of spitting and licking that didn’t help,” said Dooley, causing Kingman to frown and turn to me.
“What is he talking about?”
“A cat killer attacked us this morning,” I said. “He tried to set us on fire.”
“Oh, my God. And how did you survive?”
I told him the whole story, and Kingman was properly impressed.
“So Odelia assigned us a bodyguard,” said Harriet proudly. “And soon she’ll probably assign us a couple more. We are VICs, after all.”
“I’m afraid to ask, but what is a VIC?” asked Kingman.
“A Very Important Cat,” said Harriet, then walked off to socialize with her friends.
“Odelia is also going to organize training for us,” I said. “Like dog training?”
Kingman made a face. “That doesn’t sound like a lot of fun. Better you than me, Max.”
“Yeah, I’m not exactly looking forward to it either,” I confessed.
“You know what you should do? Hire a watchcat instead of this human of yours.”
“What do you mean?” asked Dooley.
“You know, like a watchdog, but a feline one.”
“I didn’t even know watchcats existed.”
“Oh, sure.” He glanced at Chase again. “You better give it some thought. I mean, it’s really awkward for a cat to be guarded by a human. Not dignified.”
I saw what he meant. Cats are the kind of pets that are known far and wide for being able to take care of themselves. We’ve never needed a human to take care of us before, and it frankly was humiliating to have Chase tagging along wherever we went.
“That’s so kind of you, Kingman,” said Dooley. “You would really be our watchcat? Guard us with your life?”
“Me? Are you nuts? I was thinking of Clarice. She’s easily Hampton Cove’s toughest cat—her reputation precedes her. I’ll bet that if she took you under her paw, no cat killer would dare to come near you again.”
“Clarice would never take the job,” said Brutus.
“Why not? Everyone can be bought, Brutus, even Clarice.”
But Brutus was shaking his head. “Not Clarice. She’s a free cat, and would never accept payment in exchange for her services.”
“Look, my human has just managed to land himself a date with the most gorgeous female I’ve ever seen. And why do you think that is? Because Wilbur owns a business, and even gorgeous females are susceptible to the siren song of the good old moolah.”
We all stared at the big cat in shock. Wilbur Vickery isn’t exactly Hampton Cove’s most eligible bachelor. In fact he’s probably our town most ineligible bachelor. And to think that he managed to snag a date with a woman was… surprising, to say the least.
“Just ask her,” Kingman suggested. “I’m sure you’ll be able to come to some sort of an understanding.”
It was an avenue worth pursuing I had to agree. Clarice is a feral cat, and as such probably the most intimidating cat in all of Hampton Cove. If she were to guard us around the clock, no wannabe cat killer would get close to us ever again.