Whiskerful Thinking

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Whiskerful Thinking Page 18

by Patricia Fry


  "Gosh," Holly said, "I don't know."

  "What are you girls whispering about?" Michael asked, releasing Teddy from the high chair and taking him onto his lap.

  "Sounds like they're scheming about something, doesn't it?" Keith said.

  "We're trying to get Rags back," Savannah hissed, "that's what." Suddenly she looked down at her plate and said under her breath, "Uh-oh, here he comes." She looked up and cleared her throat. "Hi, Freddie. Feeling better?"

  He looked puzzled for a minute, then said, "Oh yeah, you ladies were at LouAnn's yesterday when I had my…um…spell. Yup, gotta eat on schedule or I get them." He glanced around the table, clapped his hands and asked, "So how's everyone today?"

  "Not so good," Savannah said. When Freddie looked at her she stared directly into his eyes and asserted, "My cat's been stolen. Did you know that? Someone took him. So no, things are not good or even okay."

  Avoiding eye contact, Freddie stammered, "Well, no…um…I didn't hear about that. What happened? Did he run off?"

  "No," she said, "someone took him. They took his harness and leash and food—everything but his pen."

  Freddie pulled a bandana out of his pocket and wiped the back of his neck. "Well, that's a doggone shame, but I imagine you can find another cat when you get back to wherever you came from. Cats are a dime a dozen, right?"

  Savannah looked him in the eyes. "Yeah, so I wonder why the thief took him instead of one of those dime-a-dozen cats."

  "I wouldn't know," Freddie said, fidgeting with something in his pocket.

  Michael looked back and forth between Savannah and Freddie, finally saying, "Hey, Freddie, the kids found an interesting creature the other day and we've been wondering what it is and where it came from. Do you know anything about the local wildlife?"

  "Yeah, some," Freddie said, appearing eager to change the subject. "It ain't a snake or badger or something, is it?"

  "No," Michael said. "Nothing like that, but we can't for sure identify it. Maybe you can help us. Adam, want to show it to Freddie?"

  "Sure," Adam said. He motioned. "Come on, it's in the car."

  Michael shot a look at Savannah, and she said, "Okay, be back in a jiff, I hope."

  Scant minutes later, Savannah rapped on the door to LouAnn's cabin.

  LouAnn answered fairly quickly. Obviously surprised, she said, "Oh, hi, ladies. Did you enjoy your breakfast?" She leaned closer. "I hope you had the special today. Our cook," she giggled, "he calls himself a chef, he prepares the most delectable eggs Benedict—well, it's his variation on that famous comfort food. Very nice."

  "That's what I had," Holly said. "Yes, it was lovely."

  "Say," Savannah said, "I'm really interested in seeing your new cat. You started to show him to us yesterday, but…"

  LouAnn stepped back a couple of paces. "Well, now, Freddie warned me that you might push your way in here, and…"

  "Oh, he did, did he?" Savannah exclaimed.

  Holly nudged Savannah, then said, "LouAnn, I think you know that Savannah brought her cat here to the camp with us. He's a very special cat—special to her and to their community."

  LouAnn raised her eyebrows, and Holly continued, "He was taken from his pen two days ago while we were gone and, well, LouAnn, when we heard that you had a new cat we had to wonder. Please, if you'll just let us see your cat."

  "Yes," Savannah said. "If it isn't Rags, we'll be on our way. Please, show us the cat Freddie brought you, will you?"

  "Oh, of course. I'm sorry," LouAnn said. She started to leave the room, then turned and asked, "You think Freddie took your cat? Oh, girls, I can't believe that. If it is your cat, I'm sure he found him wandering around somewhere alone."

  "He didn't tell you where he got the cat?" Savannah asked.

  LouAnn thought for a moment and said, "No. I didn't think to ask. I just figured…"

  "Would you go get him, please?" Savannah urged.

  "Rags!" Savannah cried, when LouAnn returned carrying an armload of grey-and-white fur.

  Rags squirmed in LouAnn's arms until she lowered him to the floor, then he trotted to Savannah and butted her hand with his head as she petted him and ruffled his fur.

  "Oh my, he sure seems to know you. Look how excited he is. I didn't know…" LouAnn said.

  "Yes, this is my cat. Damn him!" she snarled. "He stole my cat. What is wrong with that man?"

  "Are you sure he wasn't running around loose? Why would Freddie…?" LouAnn started.

  "He was in a pen, LouAnn. Freddie took my cat and his harness and leash," Savannah asserted.

  Holly nodded and asked, "Aren't you aware that he's a thief? He was arrested earlier this week. My husband found him trying to enter our tent while we were sleeping."

  LouAnn nodded submissively. "I know."

  "And it's okay with you?" Savannah asked brusquely.

  LouAnn lowered her head and seemed to be weighing her thoughts, then finally said, "If you knew the whole story, you might understand. Freddie isn't a criminal. He…"

  "Is it a sickness?" Holly asked. "Is he a kleptomaniac? Is this something he can't help?"

  She shook her head. "No, that's not it."

  "LouAnn," Savannah said, "are you sure that man hasn't pulled the wool over your eyes?"

  "Well, I guess he did where King Tut…er…um…your cat is concerned." She winced. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

  Savannah edged her phone out of her pocket and sent a quick message to Michael, then asked, "LouAnn, may we sit down?"

  "Yes, by all means." She motioned for the women to be seated, then laughed when Rags leaped up onto Savannah's lap and plopped himself against her chest. "He sure does love you. He didn't do any of that with me. He did, however, escape a time or two. I always caught him in the act and was able to bring him right back. He also took things out of my purse and my knitting basket. I found my yarn and stitch markers strewn all over the place. He even ran off one morning with my wooden spoon when I was trying to make a cream sauce. And you know how vital it is to stir and stir a cream sauce. He's kind of a stinker."

  "Yes, he is," Savannah said, snuggling with Rags.

  "How long have you had him?" LouAnn asked.

  Savannah looked at her. "How about if I send you a copy of his meowmoirs?"

  "His what?" she asked.

  "It's his memoirs. I call it his meowmoirs."

  "He has a book about him?"

  "Yes," Savannah said, "he's a very unusual cat, and he's had an interesting life."

  LouAnn looked at him. "What's his breeding background?"

  "He's half Ragdoll and the sire is a short-haired orange tabby."

  LouAnn appeared stunned. "You don't say. Now that's a surprise all the way around. How do you know that? Did you know the folks who had the cat pair?"

  "I do now," Savannah said. "I went in search of Rags's family a few months ago with a cat-DNA expert and we were fortunate enough to locate some of his siblings and his parents. I'm writing a book on that experience now."

  LouAnn grimaced. "Well, I'm just so ashamed to be in possession of a cat that obviously means so much to someone. I can't tell you how sorry I am." She scowled. "Just wait 'til I get my hands on…"

  "Hi, honey-bunch," Freddie said, walking in the front door. When he saw Savannah sitting on the sofa with Rags, however, he turned and started to leave.

  "No you don't," Michael said, pushing him into the house. "We want to talk to you, Freddie."

  "Oh, no, I think I'm having a sugar low. I've got to eat something…"

  "You just had a big breakfast. You're fine," Keith said. "Sit," he commanded. He bowed toward LouAnn. "Ma'am."

  She nodded back apprehensively.

  When Adam came to the door, Michael said, "You kids stay right out there on the lawn, will you? We'll be ready to go swimming in just a bit."

  "Is Rags there?" Adam asked. "Did you get Rags?"

  "Yes," Savannah said. "He's right here. He's fine."

  "Good," Adam said. He
called out to the others, "Rags is okay. They've got Rags."

  Michael sat on the couch next to Savannah with Teddy in his arms and rubbed Rags's head. He stared across the room. "Freddie, you took our cat. What do you have to say for yourself?"

  "How'd you know?" he asked. "Did those nosey campers see me? I thought I perpetrated the perfect…"

  "Crime?" Keith asked.

  "No crime," Freddie said, scowling. "How can it be a crime if you have a higher purpose and you bring joy to others?"

  Savannah sat up straighter and spat, "While bringing sadness to someone else."

  Freddie looked at her, then down at his hands. "I guess if you put it that way…"

  "What other way is there, Freddie?" Savannah asked. "When you take something, you're hurting someone, especially when it's someone's pet, for heaven's sake."

  "I'm so ashamed of you, Freddie," LouAnn said. "So ashamed."

  "Oh now, LouAnn, I just wanted to make you happy. I never thought that taking something for you would deprive someone else. I just never thought of it in that way."

  She gasped. "Are you saying that the beautiful yarn you brought me and the basket for my knitting projects were also stolen? Freddie, did you take that stuff too, and that lovely sweater?" She put her hands up to her face. "What made you think I'd want something that's meaningful or important to someone else?"

  Keith stared at Freddie for a moment, then leaned forward. "That other stuff you took…"

  "Oh that was for the charity league in the city," Freddie said. "They need things for the children and seniors and the working class who are out of work through no fault of their own. It all went to the good of others—to help build better lives for others. I can't give monetarily, so I figure the folks I take from probably would have given if they'd had the opportunity. I'm sure they would approve, because it's just such a good thing to do."

  Michael let out a sigh. "Freddie, there has to be a way for you to help other than to be a thief."

  The man squirmed in his chair. "Well, I haven't thought of it yet. It just seemed my idea was working out real good."

  Just then, Adam came to the door and said, "Lily has to go to the bathroom."

  "Oh, I'm sorry, LouAnn," Savannah started, "I'll…"

  "Bring her in," LouAnn instructed. "The facility's right in there. Help yourself. In fact, let them all come in. It's been a long time since I've had children in this house. Yes, bring them in. I want to hear the laughter of children."

  "Thank you," Savannah said, ushering the children in.

  Holly suggested, "You children sit here on the floor."

  "I'll be right back," LouAnn said, returning with a small table. She asked Holly, "Okay if the children help me bring in the chairs?"

  Holly nodded.

  Once the kids were seated at the table, LouAnn delivered color books and colored pencils.

  "This is cool," Bethany said.

  "Yes, thank you," Cassie said.

  "So where were we?" Keith asked, once the children were settled.

  "We were discussing the fact that there must be another way to give to the needy than to steal things from others," Michael explained.

  "Yeah, if there is, I haven't thought of it," Freddie lamented. "I don't have the money to buy all that stuff."

  "You take from the rich to give to the poor?" Adam asked. "Like Robin Hood?"

  "You might say I'm kind of like Robin Hood," Freddie said, smiling.

  "That's not something to be proud of," Michael interjected.

  "No," Keith agreed. "And I have to wonder, do you enjoy being carted off to jail every few weeks or so?"

  Freddie frowned and didn't speak.

  Adam gazed at Freddie. "Why don't you ask for what the people need?"

  No one spoke until LouAnn said, "Out of the mouth of babes."

  Freddie thought for a moment, then said, "You mean if I was to ask you for one of your toys for a small child who's facing months in a hospital, you would be willing to give it?"

  Adam looked around at the others and said, "Well, I sure would. Poor kid."

  "I think we all would," Michael said.

  "Oh!" Freddie exclaimed. "Now that sounds like it might work. I love talking to people anyway. So why not tell folks about some of the people I know who are needy and ask if they'd be willing to give?" He slapped his hand against his knee. "Yes, by golly, what a great idea that is. Glad I came up with it."

  When he saw the others grinning at him, he said, "Oh, well, young man, I guess you sort of gave me the inkling that created the idea in my head, didn't you? I thank you for that."

  Adam and Michael exchanged grins.

  "Well, we have a swimming date," Michael said, standing up with Teddy still in his arms. "How about you children help Miss LuLu put the table and chairs away?"

  "Oh, you never mind that, "LouAnn said. "Freddie and I'll take care of it."

  "By the way," Savannah said, "how's Dino?"

  Holly turned to hear LouAnn's response.

  "He's doing great. I think I might actually make him a housecat now that King Tut will no longer be with me."

  "King Tut?" Michael questioned.

  "That was Rags's new name. King Tut," Savannah explained, grinning.

  "Oh," he said, rolling his eyes. When he saw Savannah stalling, he asked, "What is it?"

  "Well, I was hoping I could get Rags's leash and harness back, and his food," she said.

  Freddie lowered his head. "Sorry about that. I'll get it."

  She stopped him and said, "By the way, would your organization be interested in books about this cat—his work with the local sheriff's department, the time he saved a teacher who had become lost and disoriented, when he acted in a play and...?"

  Freddie looked at Rags. "He's done all that? Boy, would they," he said enthusiastically. "Yes. We have parents waiting for their children in surgery, and adults with long recoveries and various stages of depression. Some of them love reading. Now is that fiction?" he asked.

  "I'm afraid not," she said. "Like I told LouAnn, Rags is one of a kind—a unique cat. The stories are all completely true."

  "Then yes, absolutely. Send us some books—both print and those e-books," he said.

  "How many do you need?" she asked.

  "Can I get ten of them? Maybe five of each?"

  "Sure," she said.

  Freddie patted Adam on the back. "Gosh, young fellow, look at that. Asking for what you want or need, especially if it's for the better good of someone else, really does work. Now let that be a lesson to you going forward."

  When Adam appeared confused, Michael winked at him.

  Chapter Eleven

  "Have you heard any more from our attorney?" Michael asked the next day as the family headed for home.

  "No," Savannah said. "I have an appointment with her tomorrow." She threw her head back against the seat and moaned, "I hope she has good news. I'm just so exhausted; I don't know if I have the energy to engage in a legal battle over Rags."

  "You mean you're tired after our relaxing vacation?"

  "Relaxing?" she repeated. "Oh, it really was a lot of fun, but managing Rags takes so much out of me. It seems I'm always looking for him or looking out for him or worrying about losing him."

  Michael glanced at her. "Yes, when you chose that cat, you really signed on for a rocky road." He asked, "So have you figured out why that man seems so adamant that Rags is his cat?"

  She shook her head, then chuckled. "I can only handle one crisis at a time with Rags. Now that we have him back with us, I guess I can concentrate on the next pending issue." More slowly, she said, "So that phony colonel claims he had Rags when he was still a young cat."

  Michael interrupted her. "Why do you call him a phony colonel?"

  "Well, he's not wearing a uniform. He doesn't look like a colonel." When Michael simply grinned at her, she continued, "I adopted Rags when he was eight months old. I need to know how old this cat he had was, and exactly when he lost the cat. Th
ose details, as far as I know, are a little sketchy, and I think they're important."

  "Definitely," Michael agreed. "I doubt he has a leg to stand on without the exactness of those details."

  "Yes," she said, bouncing a little in her seat, "and he needs to come in with those details before we do any meeting or conferencing or negotiating with him." When Michael looked unsure, she said, "I don't want to say anything or give any specifics about Rags until that man has given his—what would you call it—deposition, maybe?"

  "Makes sense," Michael said. "He's the one making claims, and he'd better be willing to bring in some proof. It's not up to you to prove ownership."

  She nodded. "Well, it shouldn't be, that's for sure. I guess I'd better have a discussion with Sondra to make sure she's on the same page."

  He chuckled. "Seems elementary to me." When Savannah looked at Michael quizzically, he explained, "Well, she's an attorney. She should certainly require the litigant to come in with his case before she advises you in defending yourself."

  "That's right!" Savannah agreed firmly.

  "Why do you have to defend yourself, Savannah?" Adam asked from the backseat.

  "Oh," she stalled and considered what to tell the boy. She twisted in her seat. "Well, someone is trying to say that Rags is his cat. He wants me to give him Rags."

  "That Freddie man?" he asked.

  "No. Some stranger. He said his cat, who looked just like Rags and would be about the same age as Rags, ran away and someone picked him up and took him to a pet store, where they sold him before the guy could get there to rescue him. He thinks that I'm the one who adopted his cat and he wants him back."

  Adam was quiet for a few moments, then said, "That's a rotten thing for someone to do."

  "Tell me about it," Savannah agreed.

  "Rags knows all of us. I think he likes us. Wouldn't he be sad if he had to go live with someone he doesn't know?"

  "Absolutely," Savannah said, wiping at one eye. "And we would be sad, so I'm fighting as hard as I can to make sure that man doesn't get Rags."

  "He must not like Rags very much if he wants to do that to him," Adam said quietly. "He probably only wants him to make himself happy, not Rags."

 

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