“Just take it already,” I told Brutus, tiring of this waiting game.
He chewed his lower lip.“I don’t know, Max. What if my pee-pee falls off?”
“Why would your pee-pee fall off?”
“I read about these pills. There’s always side effects. And one of the side effects is that your pee-pee swells up and dies. What am I going to tell Harriet if my pee-pee dies?”
“Your pee-pee isn’t going to die from a teeny tiny pill. Just think how happy Harriet will be if your machinery works like it should. Focus on the light, Brutus, not the darkness.”
Dooley transferred his attention from my tight collar to Brutus.“What’s his deal?” he asked. Then he remembered. “Oh, the pee-pee thing. Right.”
Brutus’s eyes went wide. “You told him?!”
“Of course I told him. He’s my best friend.”
“I told you in confidence!”
“And I told Dooley in confidence.”
He groaned.“Tell me you didn’t tell Harriet.”
“I didn’t tell Harriet,” said Dooley. “So why don’t you take the pill, Brutus?”
His bedside manners were a little lacking in tact and delicacy, I felt, and some of the old rancor had slipped back into his tone. It was obvious my helping Brutus still rankled.
“Are you deaf? I just told Max about the side effects.”
“So what if your thingy falls off? Who cares?”
“I care! And Harriet will care if I can’t…” He chewed his lip again.
“She’ll find another boyfriend,” said Dooley carelessly. “Plenty of cats in the sea.”
Brutus gave him a look that could kill, and I had the distinct impression another cat fight was brewing. And since Chase wasn’t here to break up the fight, I told Dooley, “Go look for Odelia’s pill, Dooley. I’m sure it’s in the bathroom upstairs somewhere.”
His eyes lit up, like I knew they would.“She has the pill?”
“She has the pill. I’m one hundred percent sure.” More like fifty percent, but giving false hope is one of the secrets of making friends and influencing cats.
And off he was, at a happy trot. If he could find proof that Odelia was on the pill, and not about to pop out a litter of babies, he would finally be happy. And Brutus and I would have some peace and quiet to think this other pill thing through.
“Just take it,” I told Brutus. “See what happens.”
“Why don’t you take it? Then if your pee-pee stays firmly attached I’ll know it’s safe.”
I laughed.“I don’t have issues, Brutus. You do.”
“Don’t remind me,” he grunted, and unsheathed a sharp claw.
I gulped. Brutus might be domesticated, to some extent, but there was still something of the wild animal in him.“Okay, fine,” I said. “I’ll take one if you’ll take one. How is that?”
He sheathed the claw.“You would do that for me?”
“Of course.”
“Oh, Max—you’re a real pal,” he said, visibly touched.
As long as he stopped whining about his pee-pee, I was prepared to take any pill.
So I jumped on top of the chair, then on top of the table, and gobbled up one of the pills Odelia had laid out. I didn’t even need to take it with a little water. Brutus, who’d made the jump to the table in one go—admittedly he is a little slimmer than me—swallowed his pill. And then we stared at one another. Slowly, but inexorably, our gazes lowered. Then, realizing what we were doing, we both looked awayagain.
“I don’t feel nothing,” said Brutus after a moment.
“I don’t feel nothing either,” I confessed.
“Let’s take another pill,” said Brutus.
“I’m not taking another pill,” I said.
“Chicken.”
“Not!”
“Then take it.”
“You take it.”
“Oh, I will,” he said, and gobbled up another pill, crunching it between his teeth.
I couldn’t say no. My whole cathood depended on it. So I followed suit.
More minutes passed. Nothing happened.
“Maybe we should take another one,” said Brutus.
I decided this time to beat him to it, and we both dove for the pills.
Just as I was gobbling down pill number five, feeling mighty manly, Dooley strode in, looking a little pale around the nostrils.
“You guys,” he said, retching slightly. “I don’t feel so good.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“I found Odelia’s pills.”
“Hey, that’s good, right?”
“And then I ate one.”
“You did what?”
He retched some more.“They looked like white kibble!”
“Oh, Dooley,” I said, and then I retched, too.
Truth be told, I wasn’t feeling so hot myself.
And when I glanced over at Brutus, he looked like he was about to pass out.
Five minutes later, when Odelia walked in, back from giving Grandma the tongue-lashing the old lady deserved, she found three cats puking their guts out, with a fourth, Harriet, wearily shaking her head at so much tomfoolery. Then Harriet dug her teeth into her collar for some reason and moments later joined the rest of us in the puking department.
Chapter 18
As Odelia walked out of the house, laden with cats, she bumped into Chase, who immediately offered to take over some of the furry creatures. She unloaded Brutus and Harriet in his arms and took Max and Dooley into the car, followed by the new cat lover.
“What’s wrong with them?” he asked as he placed Brutus and Harriet on the backseat.
She took a deep breath.“As far as I can tell,” she said, slipping behind the wheel as Chase dropped down in the passenger seat, “Brutus ate too many vitamin tablets, so did Max, Dooley ate one of my pills, and Harriet tried to chew through her collar.”
“It doesn’t look good on me,” the white cat said, panting heavily. “Cramps my style.”
Chase directed a worried look at the foursome in the backseat.“You think they’ll live?”
“We’re gonna die!” Dooley cried. “I knew it! We’re dead meat!”
“They’ll live,” Odelia said, stomping on the accelerator. The car jumped away from the curb and then they were on their way to Vena—for the second time that day.
“Thank God,” said Chase. “I love the little suckers to death. Especially Max. He’s such a special cat, don’t you think? I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that about any animal. Truth.”
She frowned. He was laying it on a little thick now.“Max is great,” she said curtly. When he wasn’t getting into a pill-swallowing competition with Brutus.
“Oh, he’s fantastic,” said Chase, slapping his thigh. “I love the little guy to death. Never thought I could ever love a cat again, I mean—after what happened to Smokey.”
“I thought your cat’s name was Blackie?”
“That’s what I meant. Blackie. Dear, sweet Blackie.”
She cut a quick glance sideways. Damn, the man looked good in profile.“Did you and Uncle Alec happen to talk about Max, by any chance?”
“Nope,” he said, feigning innocence. “Not a word. Me and Alec? We talk about the Yankees and the Mets, about work, and that’s it. Not a word about cats. Why would we?”
She had the distinct impression that this sudden fondness of cats didn’t come out of nowhere. Alec had probably told Chase that the surest way to his niece’s heart was through her cats. Why else would he be all over Max all of a sudden? “You know? Now that you and Max have developed such a strong and powerful bond, maybe you can do me a favor?”
“Sure. Anything. Anything for sweet, sweet Maxie.”
“Ugh,” Max groaned from the backseat, then retched some more.
“With Grandma giving us all such a hard time, I feel I should spend some time at my parents’ house. Try to talk some sense into the old lady. Can I rely on you to catsit for me?”
He seemed taken aback.“Catsit?”
“Yeah, just, you know, make sure they’re fed and cleaned—Vena gave me a flea comb to apply with a little bit of soapy water—and don’t forget to clean out their litter box.”
He made a face.“Litter box?”