Furever Friends

by Patricia Fry

  “Good evening, the young woman said into the mic, smiling. I’m delighted to be a part of this wonderful organization. As you know, we’re all about cats—cats are our focus and we continue to create more amazing products to keep cats safe, healthy, and happy. Most of all happy, right? We want happy kitties, and my hat goes off to all of you in this room because of your commitment to education. It takes well-informed humans to understand how to keep our kitties happy.”

  Everyone cheered and applauded.

  “So when Kat came to me with her idea this afternoon,” Molly continued, “I jumped on it. And the owners of the company felt the same about it as I do.” She turned to Kat. “I think you should introduce the premise of the award.”

  “Sure. Well, we’ve handed out a lot of incentives this evening—I like to think of the awards as incentives to continue doing what you’re doing and to spur others on to do more on behalf of cats.” She grinned. “But I feel as though we’re leaving out a very important element to our work and our world—the cats themselves.” She raised a hand to silence the rumble that rippled through the audience. “Yeah, we’re helping cats—we’re ferocious in our efforts to help cats. But what about the things they do for us? I’m talking about hero cats. Cats that make a difference.”

  This time when the roar of enthusiastic voices started, Kat smiled and spoke more loudly. “Yes!” she shouted. “That’s what I’m talking about.” She waited until the room was quiet again before saying, “There are some remarkable cats out there. Of course, we all think of our kitties as remarkable. They bring us so much comfort and joy. But tonight we’re focusing on cats that go beyond what cats are thought to do or are supposed to do. There are cats who have saved families from house fires and other potential disasters. Cats are known to save other animals. Therapy cats soothe the ailing and the lonely. Some have been known to detect disease, and some alert their humans to an impending seizure or other kind of attack. Yes, cats have been helping people for thousands of years—starting, I guess, with their first jobs in the grain and silk industries as mousers and let’s not forget the cat’s role in stopping the bubonic plague.” Kat took a breath, looked around the room, and said, “Molly, would you present our first annual hero cat award?”

  “It will be my pleasure.” Molly glanced at her notes. “The cat chosen to receive the award this evening has done practically everything Kat mentioned just now and more.” She looked out into the audience. “Let’s bring him up here so everyone can see who it is we’re talking about. Savannah and Michael Ivey, would you please bring up Ragsdale—aka Rags?”

  The applause that followed the couple and the cat to the podium was deafening. When Kat saw Rags stop at the end of his leash and turn to look behind him, she motioned for the audience to quiet down, so they began clapping more quietly. A couple of people stood up. Then another table of people stood. By the time Savannah, Michael, and Rags had climbed the few steps to the stage, everyone in the room was standing and smiling back at them. Michael picked up Rags and they walked to where Kat and Molly waited in the middle of the stage.

  Molly reached for Rags’s paw and he allowed her to hold it as he looked out over the audience where several people snapped pictures. Once the clamor subsided, Molly said, “So nice to make your acquaintance, Rags. You are quite a cat.” She paused while watching him stare out over the audience, then said, “I understand that you found the missing Persian this afternoon.” When the audience began cheering, she said, “I mean, the cat is incredible!” She held up a copy of Savannah’s Meowmoirs. “There’s no way I can list all of the things he’s done, so I recommend that you buy this book. It’s a great read and an eye opener as to what a cat is capable of.” She winced. “I must admit I haven’t finished reading it. I became aware of it late this afternoon, but I will probably read the rest of it when I return to my room this evening.”

  Molly addressed Rags again. “You look dapper there in your bow tie.” She looked into his eyes and smiled. “I truly believe that he’d like to give a speech. I sense that he has a lot to say. But it appears that the cat’s got his tongue tonight. Is that right, Rags?”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Okay, I know you’re all tired and eager to get back to your own kitties. Just let me say that we’d like to present you with this medal, Rags, as a token of our appreciation for all that you do and have done and will presumably do in the future.”

  Rags reached out toward the medal Molly held in her hand and batted at it a few times. She draped it around his neck as Michael held him, and a few people moved closer to snap pictures.

  Michael handed the cat to Savannah. “Here, you should be in the pictures.”

  After posing with him for a few minutes, she stepped up to the microphone with Rags in her arms. “Thank you.” She looked down at the cat. “I’m sure he’s deeply touched by your generosity; I know that we are.”

  “Well, there’s more,” Molly said. Once everyone had settled back down in their seats, she explained, “My company would like to donate a thousand dollars to the cause of Rags’s choice.” When Savannah looked surprised, Molly explained, “It might be a favorite shelter where the directors are doing wonderful things for cats, a program designed to foster the health and well-being of cats, a therapy program involving cats…whatever is his pleasure.”

  When Savannah hesitated, Molly said, “You can think about it and let us know later.”

  However, Savannah already had something in mind. She placed the cat on the floor and handed Michael the leash, then returned to the microphone. “Thank you so much for your kindness and for recognizing this sometimes incorrigible cat for some of the amazing things he has done. He is an interesting cat.” She looked at Molly. “And thank you for the opportunity to help other cats in a pretty impressive way. A thousand dollars, wow!” She paused, then said, “Back in Hammond, we have a wonderful shelter—well, it’s actually a sanctuary, and it’s named for Rags. Ragsdale Cat Ranch is a safe haven for feral cats. It’s run by June Balcomb, who will turn ninety-five soon, and Nola, a young woman with a huge heart for cats and the energy June wishes she still had. I’d be inclined to shower them with this generous gift, but June has plenty of money of her own and a great donation flow coming in. My aunt and uncle run a small cat shelter, but they’re doing beautifully and they love the work. I’m not sure they’d even appreciate having the funds to expand. They’re nearly at retirement age as it is.”

  Savannah took a breath and continued, “I’m a member of the Hammond Cat Alliance. We do our best to protect cats and educate people, but on a smaller scale than this organization has been able to do. I’ve met some incredible people this weekend—many who are highly involved in saving and protecting and rehabilitating cats. Some are newer to the world of cats and are still learning, but all of you seem dedicated to reaching out with your messages and your hands-on efforts. From what I’ve seen and heard, you have a good thing going in this organization and I’d like to donate that money to the board of Angels for Felines.

  Again, Savannah was honored with a standing ovation and the applause seemed to go on forever.

  In an attempt to quell the applause, she spoke out. “So let’s donate that thousand dollars to Angels for Felines, and I’ll match it with another thousand from Rags’s book royalties.”

  Kat hugged Savannah amidst another round of wild applause. Once it subsided, Savannah had just one more thing to say. “Keep up the good work.” On a whim, she took off her cat ears and tossed them into the air. With that, almost everyone in the room removed theirs and hurled them as well. The cheering was exuberant.

  Savannah laughed when she saw audience members scurrying to find their cat ears before they left the ballroom.

  ****

  “What a night,” Rob said the following morning at breakfast with the Iveys. He looked around for Rags. “Where’s the star?”

  “Chilling in his pen,” Savannah said. “We have a big day ahead with his friend Moose.”
>
  “Oh yes, the horse.”

  “Horse?” Cheryl repeated.

  Rob took a sip of coffee and nodded. “Yeah, didn’t I tell you, Rags has a new best friend—a big old horse.”

  “Well big, but not so old,” Savannah said. She explained, “We’re boarding Moose for a few months, along with a bunch of other horses and some cute little ponies. Moose is an endurance horse.”

  “Do you know what that is?” Rob asked.

  Cheryl nodded. “Yes, I have an uncle who follows those rides. He rode in a couple of endurance races when he was younger.”

  “Really?” Savannah said. “Well, Moose is performing out in the desert today, and we’re going to watch him.”

  “How long is this one?” Cheryl asked.

  “I think twenty-five miles.”

  “How can you watch a twenty-five-mile race?” Rob asked. “Do they ride around in a circle for twenty-five miles?”

  “No,” Savannah said, laughing. “They take trails; some of them can be quite treacherous.”

  “So are the trails along a roadway? Do you follow them in your car?” he asked.

  Savannah chuckled. “No, but I guess you can drive around and catch parts of the ride at vet checks and other spots where you can see the trail. Or you can wait at the finish line.” She shivered. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

  Michael grinned sweetly at his wife.

  “How long will this race take?” Rob asked.

  “I think they have to finish or are expected to finish within six hours, but it’s not actually a race as much as it’s an endurance ride. The horse has to be in good condition when he crosses the finish line.”

  Michael nodded. “Some horses are pulled before they have a chance to finish because of lameness or dehydration or some other metabolic reason.”

  “So it’s an all-day event, pretty much?” Rob asked.

  “Pretty much.”

  Rob chuckled. “Has Rags ever been to one of those?”

  “None of us have,” Savannah said, “but I think it will be especially interesting since we know one of the riders.”

  “I went with my folks to watch my uncle ride once.” Cheryl said. “I didn’t have much fun. That was a fifty-mile ride and it took all day and into the night. It wasn’t my favorite way to spend a day, but I was only about thirteen at the time—not of an age to enjoy a slow-paced sport, as you can imagine.”

  Rob laughed. “No. Definitely not your cup of tea.”

  “How’s Miss Kitty?” Savannah asked.

  Rob looked at her suspiciously. “How’d you know?”

  “How’d I know that you have a kitten? We had dinner with her last night, remember?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “But how’d you know her name? We just talked about it this morning in the shower. You weren’t lurking outside our sixth-story window were you?”

  Savannah frowned. “Certainly not.” She grinned. “In the shower, huh?”

  “Well, I was in the shower,” Cheryl said, “calling out names while he shaved. We both like Gunsmoke reruns and we came up with Miss Kitty. Do you like it?”

  “I like it,” Savannah said.

  Rob persisted. “But what I want to know is what made you call her that before we told you her name?”

  Savannah grinned. “It’s not an uncommon name for a cat.”

  Rob sounded disappointed. “Oh, so it’s ordinary? You mean, other people have already thought of that cool name for their cat?”

  Michael and Savannah nodded. He said, “I’ll bet I have a dozen Miss Kitties as patients.”

  Rob frowned. “The heck! I wanted to name her something unique.”

  “Like Rags?” Michael asked. He faced Savannah. “We do have two other cat patients named Rags—they both have quite a bit of fur, which is probably what sparked the name. We also have a couple of dogs named Rags—they look like rag mops.”

  “But I’ll bet you don’t know another cat named Ragsdale,” Savannah challenged.

  He shook his head. “Or Ragsie,” he mimicked.

  She grinned sheepishly, then said, “There’s nothing wrong with the name Miss Kitty. If you don’t know another cat named Miss Kitty and you like it, that’s all that’s important.”

  Cheryl looked at Rob. “I like Gidget.”

  “Oh, so it’s a standoff,” Michael said. “Yeah, we’ve had those before, but they didn’t last long. Savannah won. Ahem, I mean she had the best idea.”

  Savannah frowned at Michael. “We have not. We’ve never named a new animal. Rags came with a name and so did your pets, and Peaches and Gypsy.”

  “What about when we named the kids?” he challenged.

  “No problem there,” Savannah said. “You liked the names I picked.”

  “That’s what I mean; you had the best ideas.”

  “Of course, I did,” Savannah said, smiling. She changed the subject. “Rob, where do we stand with Kat and that mess?”

  “Oh, I had our attorney call her yesterday. I think she understands now what she can and cannot do with someone else’s material. I asked him to put a little fear in her.” He shook his head, “Allan, the attorney, isn’t sure if she’s ignorant or downright crooked. She may try to take advantage of someone else. We really don’t know, but Allan’s pretty sure she won’t cause us any trouble.”

  “Good,” Savannah said. “I want to like the woman. I think she has a lot of good qualities.”

  Rob shifted in his chair. “You have to remember, Savannah, some of the worst criminals in history were likable gents and gals.”

  “Are you calling me gullible?” Savannah asked.

  He grinned at her. “Naw. Not at all.” He looked at Michael, then back at Savannah. “What time does the race start?”

  “Eight,” Michael said.

  Cheryl nudged Rob. “It’s not a race, remember?” She looked at the others. “However, I recall my uncle always talking about the win. He never did win, but that always seemed to be his goal.”

  “Sure, that’s the goal,” Michael said, “but under certain circumstances. I mean, the point is to cross the finish line with a sound horse.”

  “Well, anyway,” Savannah said, “it starts at eight and ends around two.”

  “With stragglers coming in all day,” Michael added.

  “Does Andrew have to pull horses from the ride very often?” Savannah asked him.

  “Sure he does,” Michael said. “There are always those who enter something like this without being properly prepared.”

  “Yeah,” Cheryl said, “sometimes the rider can’t continue. I remember my uncle being real mad about that once. He was just getting over a bout with the flu and the heat got to him.”

  “So they have M.D.s working alongside the veterinarians?” Savannah asked.

  Cheryl nodded.

  Michael finished the last of his coffee and looked at his watch. “We’d better get on the road if we want to catch your friend before she heads for the hills.”

  “Yes, I told Sandy I’d bring Rags to cheer Moose on. She wanted Moose to see him before the starting bell.”

  ****

  “There you are!” Sandy called out from her perch atop Moose when she saw Savannah and Michael walking toward her with Rags. Sandy reined Moose around so he could see the cat. He nickered, moved closer, and blew air into Rags’s fur. Rags twisted in Savannah’s arms to get a better look at Moose and rubbed his furry face against the horse’s muzzle. He pulled back and stared at the bridle around Moose’s face and gently batted at the nose band.

  “That’s a pretty headstall, huh, Rags?” Savannah said. She petted Moose’s cheek. “Good luck, boy.”

  “Thanks,” Sandy said. She looked behind her. “Hey, I think we’re getting ready.”

  “Break a leg,” Michael called as she rode off.

  Savannah slapped at him and cranked good-naturedly, “I don’t think that’s appropriate. She’s not perfo
rming on the stage.”

  “Oh, sorry. Don’t break a leg!” he called as they watched Sandy and Moose join the other participants, who were eager to ride off across the desert toward the mountain challenge ahead.

  Sandy tipped her hat. “See you on the other side.”

  Once the riders had nudged their mounts toward the trailhead, Michael and Savannah joined Andrew under a pop-up shelter where he was methodically organizing his medical equipment. “Need help?”

  “Oh, hi guys,” Andrew greeted. He hugged Savannah and petted Rags. “Come to see your buddy off?” he asked the cat. “How does he look?”

  “Looks good to me,” Michael said. “The question is, how’d he look to you?”

  “Only had to pull one mare.” He shook his head. “Danged rider either didn’t notice that she had stringhalt or didn’t care.”

  “How could someone not notice?” Michael asked.

  “Beats me.” Andrew faced the couple. “Sometimes with a little warm up, the horse can work it out, and she was moving pretty well, but I’m not going to let her do a strenuous ride with something like that. Not on my watch.”

  “You’re tough,” Michael jested.

  Andrew replied, “Gotta be; the horses don’t have a voice. They’re counting on me.” He looked at the horses as they moved away from them, across the desert. “There’s another one I might have to pull at the first checkpoint. She passed, but it was a close call. I won’t let her go up into the hills if things don’t look better at the next check. Hey, want to follow me up there? The first horses will arrive in an hour or so.”

  “That soon?” Michael questioned.

  “Yes, for the first check. Come on, let’s go.” When he saw Savannah suddenly lurch to one side, he said, “Oops, are you okay?”