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So we finally arrived home, and when we did, and proceeded straight into Marge and Tex’s backyard, hoping to find Rufus out and about, we came upon Gran instead, who was seated on the porch swing reading a book. The sight was so incongruous that we both sat and stared for a moment, before making our presence known.
“Gran, you’re reading a book,” said Dooley.
“Oh, hey, you guys,” said Gran. “And full marks for being so observant, Dooley. You’re right. I am reading a book. And not just any book—a great little tome.”
“But… you never read.”
It was true. I’d never seen Gran read a book before. Usually all she did was watch television: Jeopardy, reality shows, soap operas, movies—she was up for almost anything.
“Like I said, this is a great book.” She held it up so we could see the cover.
“My life in Tahiti,” I read. “By Malcolm Philan.”
“Who’s Malcolm Philan, Gran?” asked Dooley.
“Scarlett’s uncle. He lived in Tahiti for over seventy years and he’s written a book about his life. Very entertaining, I must say.” She adjusted her glasses and frowned. “Why are you wearing a tinfoil hat?”
“Dooley is afraid he’s going to be abducted by aliens,” I explained.
“They abducted Angel Church,” said Dooley. “And Big Mac says they’re also abducting pets now, especially pets that are either healthy or smart or both, and since I’m healthy I have to make sure they won’t catch me.”
“Okay, I see,” said Gran with a grin of amusement. “I actually wanted to ask you something.”
“Sure, shoot,” I said.
“Well, you know how Tex is worried about losing his hair, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“So he asked me to ask you what your secret is—why cats don’t lose their hair, like humans do.”
“Oh, gee, Gran,” said Dooley, “that’s easy. Because we’re much smaller than humans, see?”
“And how do you explain that?”
“Well, gravity pulls at you, and when you’re big, it pulls at you hard, but when you’re small, like us, it pulls at you much less.”
“So?”
“So gravity pulls at humans very hard, and especially at the tops of their heads, where their hair grows? And when it has a hard time getting a good grip, the hair tends to come loose, and that’s when humans lose their hair—especially the ones with big heads.”
Gran had to laugh at this.“Dooley, gravity pulls you down, not up!”
“Oh,” said Dooley, seeing the flaw in his reasoning.
“But it’s a nice theory, and I’ll definitely tell Tex to watch out for that nasty gravity pulling his hair!”
“Okay, so maybe it’s the sun?” Dooley tried again. “Because humans are so tall, they’re much closer to the sun than we are, so when it burns the tops of their heads, it makes their hair fall out. It’s also why you have to make sure to water your lawn in the summer.”
“So what do you suggest? That Tex waters his hair?”
“Um…” But then Dooley’s eyes lit up. “I got it! He should always wear a hat!”
“Boom! Problem solved,” said Gran. “Thank you, Dooley.”
“All joking aside, I think the actual secret is in our saliva,” I told Gran. “Us cats are big at grooming ourselves. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we don’t take baths—we lick ourselves. So the big secret must be in our saliva. That’s why we have such amazing fur.”
Gran frowned.“I’d tell Tex to lick his head, but I don’t think he’d go for it. After all, his tongue is only so long.”
“We can’t lick the tops of our heads either, but we lick our paws, then rub our heads.”
Gran smiled.“I would love to see Tex lick his hands then rub them over his head.”
“That wouldn’t work,” I explained patiently. “Like I said, the secret is in our saliva.”
I could see a light had come into her eyes. Clearly inspiration had struck. Now whether that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen. But since we had more important things to deal with, I said,“And now if you’ll excuse us, we have a body to find.”
“Of course you do,” said Gran with a chuckle, as she returned to Malcolm Philan’s Tahitian adventures. Judging from the picture on the cover he’d spent most of his seventy years entertaining Tahitian belly dancers.
And so we proceeded into Ted and Marcie’s backyard, and called out quietly for Rufus.
“Hey, fellas,” the sheepdog immediately replied, and moved out of the darkness and into the light from the moon. “You’re up late.”
“We want to ask you a favor,” said Dooley.
“Don’t tell me. You want me to sniff out more dead people?”
Dooley stared at the dog.“How did you know!”
“I was kidding, you guys. You’re not serious, are you?”
But when he saw the serious expressions on our faces, he knew exactly how serious we were: dead serious!
“I think Father Reilly accidentally killed his own daughter,” I explained, “and buried her in an unmarked grave at the cemetery. And now we want you to sniff out where she’s buried. Do you think you can do that?”
“Oh, sure,” said Rufus. “At least if she’s there.”
“She’s there, all right,” I said. “It’s the most plausible solution to this mystery.”
“Can Fifi come, too? It’s always more fun when we can work together. And besides, her nose is more developed than mine.”
“Odd, isn’t it?” said Dooley.
“What is?” asked the large sheepdog, as he followed us into the next backyard.
“Well, your nose is bigger than Fifi’s so you should be able to smell better than she does.”
“Yeah, Dooley, that is odd,” said Rufus with a smile.
We wandered into the other backyard, and softly called out Fifi’s name. Moments later, the Yorkie came tripping over, quickly squeezed herself through the hole she had dug under the fence, and Rufus proceeded to explain to her the mission we’d laid out for her, should she choose to accept it. And we were just about to leave when suddenly Harriet and Brutuscame hurrying in from the field behind the house.
“You guys!” said Harriet excitedly. “Something is going down back there—come quick!”
And so we followed her and Brutus, and they led us straight to where Fifi had discovered that skeleton earlier that day.
“Hey, I recognize this place,” said Fifi.
“Of course you do,” I said. “This is where you found that skeleton, remember?”
And then we saw, much to our surprise, that the same kids who’d been digging up that body in the graveyard, had built a fire, and were now busy dancing around that fire, still consuming copious amounts of alcohol, and howling like wolves.
Nearby, the dead body lay, and Harriet said excitedly,“I think that’s a dead body. And I think these could be the same kids who put that skeleton here!”
“We saw them dig up the body at the graveyard,” I said.
“You were at the graveyard?” asked Brutus.
“Yeah, Max has this theory,” Dooley announced. “He thinks that Father Reilly killed his daughter and buried her, and now he wants Fifi and Rufus to help find her.”
“Don’t be silly, Max,” said Harriet. “Father Reilly wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less his own daughter. For once I think you’re way off base.”
“Yeah, Maxie baby,” said Brutus. “You’ve struck out this time, buddy boy.”
But of course I stuck to my guns.“It’s the only theory that fits with all the facts,” I insisted.
“Look, they’re up to something!” said Harriet.
“Oh, boy,” said Rufus. “What a bunch of clowns.”
And indeed they were a bunch of clowns, as they now had shoved one of the kids into the fire, and he’d only barely been able to jump over it without getting badly burned. Unfortunately for him, his pants leg had caught fire, and he had to pour his beer on the flames to douse them. He didn’t look happy that he had to waste precious alcohol on such an ignoble cause and was cursing freely, then throwing the empty beer can at his buds.