“Besides, there’s a high rise three blocks over that looks promising,” Reginald said. “It has a sushi restaurant on the first level.”
“Sushi?” Chad slithered in from the kitchen, where he’d been helping himself to some tuna. “What’s this I hear about sushi?”
“Don’t even think about it, Chad,” Oscar said. “You’d never make it that far on pavement. Think about your tentacles.”
Chad flexed his tentacles defensively.“I do have sensitive skin.”
“Well, if you ever change your mind, let me know,” the white cat said, pouting. “You could be the most famous raccoons in town.”
“I think they already are,” Butterbean said.
“Oh, hey, Doc, that reminds me,” Reginald said quietly. “I’ve got something here for that friend of yours. Hope it’ll make things right between us. I washed it myself.”
Butterbean examined Reginald’s present. “Ooooh, that’ll be perfect,” she said. “Thank you.” She beamed up at him. “You were always my favorite patient.”
“He was always your ONLY patient,” Walt said in a low voice.
“Still,” Butterbean said. “My favorite.”
Reginald’s nose turned pink. Then he cleared his throat. “Well, as fun as this is, we’d better get out of here before Animal Control shows up. Say your goodbyes, everyone.”
Tulip the raccoon lunged forward and grabbed Oscar in a strangle hug, and then went for Walt. Apparently the raccoons were big huggers. No one escaped unhugged.
“Yeah, we’d better get our stuff together and get back out to the loading dock too,” Dunkin said. “Ken’s got a shuffleboard championship to win.”
Ken nodded solemnly.
“If you guys ever need anything, well, we’re right outside. Right, Wallace?” He punched Wallace lightly on the arm.
“Right,” Wallace said, rubbing his arm as he waved goodbye.
The apartment felt especially quiet after the raccoons and rats left.“Well, I guess that’s it, then,” Oscar said quietly.
“Not quite,” Butterbean said. “There’s still one thing that I have to do.”
“Butterbean, nooo, not again!” Madison squealed as Butterbean dragged her off the elevator and down the hall of the second floor.
Butterbean jumped up and pawed at the door until Madison caught up.
“Fine!” Madison grumbled. “I can’t believe you!” she said, knocking at the door. It wasn’t like she had much choice, not since Butterbean had already body-slammed it.
Mrs. Biscuit opened the door a crack and peeked out.“Oh, it’s you!” she said, opening the door wider. “Come on in. I know he’ll be glad to see you.”
“Well, it’s ABOUT TIME,” Biscuit barked, rushing over to Butterbean. “I’ve been DYING over here. Do you know how hard it is not to bark? I had to stuff my face into the couch cushions at least ten times a day! So what’s the latest? Did you rip those raccoons to shreds?”
“Um, not quite,” Butterbean said. “They were actually very nice. I don’t know if you caught their performance earlier on the building surveillance channel?”
“I don’t watch TV,” Biscuit said snippily.
“Well, anyway, they were very good. And they’re relocating, so you shouldn’t have any more problems.” She eyed Biscuit’s bangs. “With the barking, that is.”
“Did you tell them I’d pulverize them? Did they quake in their boots when they found out who they were up against? Is that why they ran away? Because I could TAKE THEM APART.” Biscuit curled his lip in the most threatening way. (Unfortunately, it just looked like he had something caught in his teeth.)
“No, but the raccoon leader did send you a gift.” Butterbean shook vigorously, and Reginald’s gift fell down from where Polo had tucked it underneath her collar. “His name is Reginald.”
Biscuit nosed it carefully. Then he looked up, his lip quivering.“Are those? I mean…”
“They’re barrettes,” Butterbean said. “He thought they’d be a good look.”
Biscuit picked up the barrettes and rushed over to Mrs. Biscuit, flinging them violently into her lap.
“Oh, did you bring a gift?” She looked up at Madison quizzically.
Madison looked over at Butterbean, who wagged her tail.
“I mean… yes?” Madison said. Sometimes it was better just to go with it.
“These are perfect!” Mrs. Biscuit held the barrettes up to look at them. “They’re beautiful!” She leaned forward and whispered to Madison so Biscuit couldn’t hear. “I don’t know if you can tell, but he had a little mishap at the groomer. I think it’s been getting him down. These will do just the trick.”
“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed,” Madison lied. She had totally noticed.
Mrs. Biscuit bent down and snapped the barrettes into place, transforming Biscuit’s heavy bangs into two jaunty ponytails.
“Perfect!” Mrs. Biscuit said, clapping her hands together.
Biscuit raced over to the window and peered at his reflection. When he turned back, his eyes were moist.“Butterbean, that raccoon…” He sniffed loudly. “I can’t even…” He swallowed hard. “You guys are the best.”
— 20 —
“WELL?” MRS. FOOD LOOKED UP as Madison and Butterbean came into the apartment. “How did it go? Is Butterbean going to be a therapy dog?” She muted the Television program she’d been watching.
“How did it go? Terrible, that’s how it went,” Madison said, unclipping Butterbean’s leash and throwing herself into a chair.
“I failed!” Butterbean said cheerfully, trotting over to Oscar’s cage.
“Oh no!” Oscar said, hopping to the end of his perch. “I’m sorry, Bean.”
“Oh no!” Mrs. Food said sympathetically. “What happened?”
“They just didn’t appreciate my techniques,” Butterbean said with a shrug.
“What didn’t happen?” Madison grumbled. “She did EVERYTHING wrong.”
Mrs. Food chuckled.“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh, it was,” Butterbean said.
Madison started counting on her fingers.“One, she jumped up on everyone in the room and licked them in the face, no matter how many times I tried to get her to stop. And not just once. Repeatedly.”
“They weren’t very friendly,” Butterbean said. “I tried to win them over, but it didn’t work.”
“Two, she refused to sit and stay when I told her to,” Madison went on. “It’s like she’d never heard the words before!”
Oscar raised an eyebrow.“But you know how to sit and stay.”
“They brought another dog in!” Butterbean said defensively. “OF COURSE I had to go say hello. I was just being POLITE.” Butterbean pouted. “I don’t see why they would hold that against me.”
“Three, she ate the food that they put out, even after I told her to leave it,” Madison said. “I told her a million times!”
“It was ON THE FLOOR!” Butterbean said indignantly. “It’s not like it BELONGED to anyone.”
“But it was a test!” Oscar pointed out. “You were supposed to leave it alone.”
“I didn’t want it to go to waste,” Butterbean said. “It was PERFECTLY GOOD FOOD.”
“It’s not your fault,” Walt said, inspecting her tail. “It sounds like it was a setup.”
“Do I need to go on?” Madison said, throwing up her hands. “Everything she did was wrong.”
“Poor Madison,” Mrs. Food said. “After you tried so hard.”
“They didn’t even have a couch,” Butterbean grumbled, lying down. “I didn’t even find out about their childhoods. It wasn’t what I think of as therapy at all.”
“It’s okay, Butterbean. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a therapy dog,” Polo said sympathetically.
“Yeah, if they won’t even let you eat loose food,” Marco agreed. “What good is it?”
“It’s fine. I’m thinking of opening a private practice,” Butterbean said thoughtfully. “Maybe keep it small at first… it’s just an idea.” She looked up hopefully. “Do you think Reginald and Biscuit would be willing to give me references?”