“It’s amazing how quickly she recovered,” said Marge. “A medical miracle.”
“Not really,” said Tex. “She suffered an extreme allergic reaction. People can come back from an episode like that very quickly.”
“Thank God there was a doctor present,” said Marge. “Who knows what would have happened otherwise.”
Harlan grimaced. “I prefer not to let my mind go there, Mrs. Poole.”
“Marge, please. And I completely understand.”
“I’m just glad you had the presence of mind to call an ambulance, Odelia, and that they got there as quickly as they did.”
“Does the salon have a recording of the person who called in?” asked Marilyn.
“No, unfortunately, they don’t,” said Odelia. “They just said the voice sounded young, though that doesn’t mean anything, of course.”
“A young woman,” Marilyn said slowly as thought wrinkles appeared on her brow. “Maybe you should talk to Opal’s staff again. Most of them are women.”
“We’re going into the studio tomorrow,” said Odelia. “We’ll talk to everyone.”
“I thought there was no show on Sundays?” said Marge.
“There’s no show on Sundays but the team starts preparing the Monday show on the Sunday,” Marilyn explained. “Though Opal doesn’t always join in. At this point it’s a well-oiled machine, and she usually meets with her team on Monday morning.”
“Where are we going, by the way?” asked Tex.
“The Villa Marguerite,” said Harlan. “It’s a great little restaurant in Sherman Oaks. We booked last week, and come hell or high water, Opal wasn’t going to let that booking go to waste.”
We arrived at the Villa Marguerite and got out. It was one of those ultra-fancy restaurants, and I was already licking my lips in anticipation of the feast we would be served.
Unfortunately soon after we arrived we cats were all relegated to the kitchen, as no pets were allowed in the dining room, and soon after we were all kicked out of the kitchen by an irate chef, and found ourselves in a back alley, which left a lot to be desired.
“Um… I was actually looking forward to having a sumptuous meal,” said Prunella.
We stared at the row of dumpsters lining one wall, and a heap of rubble and garbage piled up against the other. It didn’t look all that appetizing.
“Clarice would love this,” said Brutus with profound affection.
“Who’s Clarice?” asked Prunella.
“A friend of ours back home,” I said. “She likes to eat in the rough.”
“Oh, a feral cat?”
“Exactly, though she has mellowed out a little and has taken a liking to Odelia.”
We took a seat on the wet cement floor behind the restaurant and even as I put my nose in the air and smelled all those delicious smells wafting from the vent attached to the kitchen, my stomach was grumbling louder and louder.
“Man, I’m hungry,” said Brutus.
“Me, too,” said Harriet sadly. Not only did she only have three paws whose nails had been buffed and polished, but now she had to place her perfectly white Persian tush on this dirty cement slab. A sad ending to a sad day.
Just then, two dogs came wandering up.
“Oh, God. Not dogs, too,” Harriet lamented.
“Oh, hey, you guys,” said the first dog, a male Schnauzer. “Any luck?”
“If you’re referring to the food on offer, no luck, I’m afraid,” I said.
“Hi, there,” said the second dog, a lady Cocker Spaniel.
They both looked nice enough. I pegged them as a young couple.
“Tony is usually pretty punctual,” said the lady.
“I guess we’re early,” said her mate, who looked like a tramp.
And as if he’d overheard the conversation, suddenly the backdoor to the restaurant swung open and a man came hurrying out. “Oh, have I got the feast for you tonight!” he said with a wide smile. He then plunked down a small table and placed a large dish of something that looked and smelled edible on top of it.
“Spaghetti and meatballs!” he cried, gesturing to the sizable pot. “Tuck in, my friends!”
We all got a little closer and he laughed. “Oh, I see you brought some friends tonight. Well, dig in. There’s enough for everyone!”
“Gee, thanks, Tony,” said the tramp, and took a seat at the table. Across from him, the lady dog also took a seat, and soon they were both putting their snouts into the big pot of pasta.
I looked at Dooley, Dooley looked at me. Harriet and Brutus shared a look. Prunella, though, didn’t need encouragement. She was already digging in. “Come on, you guys,” she said. “This stuff is delicious!”
I moved closer and took a bite. She was right. The stuff really was delicious.
Behind us, Tony stood watching. He clapped his hands and smiled. “You like?”
“Yeah, we like, Tony,” said the lady dog.
“You did it again, Tony,” said the tramp.
“I’m so happy!” Tony cried, and returned inside the kitchen.
“My name is Tramp, by the way,” said the big dog, “and this here is Lady.”
“Max,” I said between two bites, and the others all introduced themselves as well.
It took me a while to make the connection, then I frowned and looked up at our two canine companions.
“Lady and the Tramp. You mean, like in the Disney movie?”
“Yeah, we’re actors,” said Tramp.
“That’s us in the movie,” Lady explained. “Well, our voices, anyway.”
“But… that movie is… old.”
Lady looked up and smiled sweetly at her mate. “The miracle of cloning, Max.”
“Yeah, cloning is all the rage. We made our debut in 1955 and we’ve been going strong ever since. Isn’t that right, sweetie-pie?”
“Absolutely, honey bunch.”
“You hear that, Brutus? They sound exactly like us,” said Harriet.
“They sure do, sugar plum,” said Brutus, but he was too busy eating to say more.
“We did Lady and the Tramp II,” said Lady.
“Straight to video,” said Tramp.
“And then of course the live-action movie,” said Lady. “We’re very proud of that one.”
“We’re doing the sequel now,” said Tramp.
“We make a pretty good living.”
“Yeah, can’t complain,” said Tramp, and sucked in a string of pasta. As luck would have it, Lady was sucking in the same pasta string, only from the other side. When they met in the middle, they kissed—just like in the movie!
And as I picked out a meatball myself, I thought what a strange place this Hollywood was, and suddenly I was starting to feel homesick. This was a lot of fun, meeting stars like Lady and Tramp, but I was missing my friends. Kingman and Shanille and Clarice… They might not have been cloned or Botoxed or primped and tucked and pampered, but they were real. And they were my buddies.
Hampton Cove was suddenly starting to look really good.
Chapter 28
Inside the restaurant, the atmosphere was downcast, which was hardly a surprise, as one of the members of the party had been discharged from hospital only hours before, and didn’t exactly look hot to trot.
“You should go home,” said Marilyn. “You look like death warmed up.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” said Opal.
“No, Marilyn is right,” said her boyfriend. “You don’t look so well, darling. Maybe we should call it a night. Get a good night’s sleep.”
“I’m not going to give whoever did this the satisfaction,” said Opal stubbornly. “I was looking forward to tonight and I’m going to enjoy my meal and so are all of you. So shut up and eat.”
Odelia thought Harlan and Marilyn were right. Opal’s face was still swollen, especially her lips, which resembled those of a blowfish. It was hard to imagine how she managed to get down any of the food she was eating, considering the Botox allergy had closed up her throat and she clearly still had trouble swallowing.