But then Harriet cried,“He swallowed a bug and now he’s dying!”
“Dying!” Dooley cried. “Oh, please, Odelia—quick! Max is dying!”
“I’m so sorry,” said Marge, addressing Loretta, who’d been watching the scene with limited interest. “But I think we better take Max to a doctor straight away.”
“Oh, absolutely,” said Loretta. She didn’t seem sorry that we were leaving, and nor would she, since she’d just stolen a precious stone and hadn’t had time to hide it yet.
So we left the room, Odelia carrying me in her arms while I still felt a little woozy. But once we were out in the corridor, I finally managed to say,“I swallowed the Pink Lady.”
Odelia frowned as she took this in.
“What did he just say?” asked Marge.
We were waiting for the elevator to arrive.
“I think he said he swallowed the Pink Lady,” said Odelia.
“He’s hallucinating,” said Harriet. “It’s a common side effect of poisoning by bug.”
“I’m not poisoned,” I said, a little weakly. “I saw the Pink Lady lying on the nightstand, took it in my mouth, then accidentally swallowed it and now it’s in my tummy.”
“Oh, dear,” said Odelia as she shared a look of concern with her mom.
“We better get Vena to take a look at you, Max,” said the latter.
“Or Dr. Poolittle,” Dooley suggested. “He is a miracle worker—the pigeon said so.”
“Who’s Dr. Poolittle?” asked Marge, puzzled.
“Why, Tex, of course,” said Dooley before anyone could stop him. “He’s suffering from a midwife crisis and now he wants to be a vet,” he explained when Marge merely stared at him. “But don’t tell anyone, Marge, cause it’s a secret.”
“We’re going to Vena,” said Odelia decidedly.
“Thank you,” I said. I hate going to the vet, but if I have to go, I’d much rather go to one who’s done her homework, and not an amateur vet who’s suffering from a midwife crisis.
“Did you know about this?” Marge asked as we rode the elevator down.
“Um…” said Odelia, trying not to meet her mom’s eyes.
“He wants to become a vet? But why?”
“He doesn’t like that people show him their moles at Costco’s,” said Dooley. “And he saved a pigeon’s life.”
“Moles and pigeons? What is he talking about, honey?”
“I’ll tell you all about it in the car,” said Odelia.
“Not just moles and pigeons,” said Dooley. “He’s seeing a badger tonight.”
“What’s going on!” Marge cried.
28
Unfortunately it would appear that this was not my lucky day. Even though I’d never have admitted it at any other moment in my life, when we discovered the sign hanging on Vena’s door that she was on a two-week vacation and to call her replacement in the next town, I actually, and for the first time in my life, wished that Vena had been there!
“We can’t wait for an appointment,” Odelia said, making one of those executive decisions your pet owner is sometimes obliged to make under these circumstances, and so she and Marge decided that the next best thing to a vet was… Tex!
“Not Dr. Poolittle!” I moaned, for that diamond was really lying heavy on my tummy now. “He’s not a real doctor!”
“He actually is a real doctor,” said Marge. “In fact he’s one of the best doctors I know.”
“But he’s not a pet doctor!” I lamented.
We were in the car at that point, Odelia having raced across town to Vena’s, and now racing back into town to see her dad about a cat. It might have sounded like a joke, but it was no joke to me!
“He’s dying, Odelia,” said Dooley in a choky voice. “My best friend is dying. Do something! Save him!”
“I’m not dying, Dooley,” I assured him. Though it was true that I wasn’t exactly feeling at the top of my form.
“That diamond is sharp, Max,” said Brutus. “It’s sharp and hard and it’s probably cutting you all up inside. It’s cutting a way through your stomach, then through your liver, through your intestines, and finally it will burrow its way out, through the sheer force of gravity, and by thattime you’ll die from internal hemorrhaging.”
“Why, thank you, Brutus!” I cried. “That’s very helpful!”
“Just telling you what you’re up against,” said a cat who was supposed to be my friend but behaved more like my worst enemy! “Diamonds are used in the mining industry,” he continued. “They can cut through the hardest rock. They use them as drill bits, see, since they can cut through almost anything, so they definitely won’t have any trouble cutting through your soft tissues, buddy.”
“Brutus, maybe you shouldn’t say these things to Max,” said Harriet. “He’s in bad enough shape as it is.”
“Yeah, don’t say things like that, Brutus!” I cried.
“All right, all right,” said the black cat, holding up his paws. “Just thought you’d want to know.”
“Oh, Max, you’re bleeding!” said Dooley.
I glanced down at the seat of the car, but didn’t see a thing. “Bleeding? Where?”
“That’s not blood, Dooley,” said Harriet. “That’s ketchup.”
“Are you sure?” said Dooley, and licked at the spot.
“Dooley, how many times do I have to tell you not to lick at strange spots!” I said.
“Oh, Max,” he said, giving me a watery smile. “Even now, with one paw in the grave, you still think of me-e-e-e!”
The car pulled to a stop, and we all piled out, though I had the luxury of being carried, since apparently I was now at death’s door, with only a few more minutes—or seconds!—to live.
They carried me into the waiting room, then without knocking into the doctor’s office, where they found Tex, sipping from a bottle and looking as if he’d been busted in the act of doing something he shouldn’t.
“It’s just water!” he cried when he met the censorious gazes of his wife and daughter and no less than four cats. “See?” He held up the bottle, and indeed it was Evian—not one of your go-to brands for alcoholics.
“Max swallowed the Pink Lady,” said Marge, placing me on the desk in front of the doctor.
“A pink what?” asked Tex.
“The Pink Lady, Tex. The diamond we kept in our bedroom safe?”
“The very large diamond you kept in your bedroom safe,” Odelia specified.
“He’s accidentally swallowed it, so it’s in his stomach, and doing who knows what damage in there.”
“And with Vena on holiday…”
“So it’s up to you, Tex.”
“But…”
“You want to be a vet, right? Well, now’s your chance to prove it!”
“You know about that?” asked Tex. He then turned to me. “But I thought Vesta had sworn the cats to secrecy?”
“It’s all right, Tex,” said Dooley. “I told Marge not to tell anyone.”
“You really should know better than to trust cats to keep a secret,” said Marge. “They blab. It’s what they do!”
“Now save Max’s life, Dad,” Odelia implored. “Do something!”
I should have felt insulted by Marge’s words, but frankly she was right: blabbing is what we do! But then Tex looked me in the eye, and I looked him in the eye, and he smiled. And I don’t know why, but at that moment I felt slightly reassured that this man knew what he was doing and that he could help me. After all, he was a doctor, right? He might not be a vet yet, but he knew about anatomy. And since human anatomy probably isn’t all that different from that of other mammals, maybe he would be able to save my life from this sharp and pointy diamond!
“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” said Tex, as he picked me up and carried me over to his examination table. “First we’re going to take a picture to see what we’re dealing with here.”
“A picture?” I asked a little weakly. “You’re going to take my picture?”
“Now is not the time to take pictures for your Facebook page, Tex!” Harriet cried.
“I think Tex is referring to an X-ray,” Marge explained.
And indeed he was. He hooked me up to some kind of machine hovering over me, and moments later said,“Don’t move, Max.” So I kept perfectly still while he did his thing.