Whiskerful Thinking

by Patricia Fry

  Michael glanced briefly at Savannah and smiled.

  "You," Savannah said, "are wise beyond your years, Adam."

  "Isn't he?" Michael said, proudly. "Your heart's in the right place, Son."

  The family rode in silence for a while, then Adam said, "Why does he think Rags is his cat? I mean, how can he even say that when he's been your cat for all his life?"

  "Well, he says his cat's mother's name was Angel. He was also told that she was a Ragdoll. Rags's mother is a Ragdoll named Angel," Savannah explained.

  "But he could have gotten that information from Savannah's book," Michael told the boy.

  Adam sat quietly for a while, then asked, "Savannah, didn't Rags have some kitten sisters and brothers?"

  She nodded. "Yes, and we met some of them—a couple of adorable Ragdoll-type cats that look like their mother."

  "Weren't there any that looked like Rags?" he asked.

  "What?" she yelped. She grabbed Michael's arm. "That's it! Adam, I think you've solved the mystery." She threw her head back. "I can't believe this. Yes, it was right in front of me all the time, and I never once thought about it. I just didn't remember because I was so darned focused on…"

  "What did I say?" Adam asked.

  "Adam, I could kiss you," she said excitedly. When Adam continued to appear perplexed, she said, "Yes, Rags had another kitten sibling that apparently looked a lot like Rags. I never found out what happened to him. Oh, my gosh. I wonder…"

  "Now you have a defense," Michael said, "thanks to Adam. Good job, Son!"

  "Well, you're welcome, I guess," Adam said. He shrugged. "It just seemed normal to me. I don't know why you didn't think of it."

  "Sometimes adults get too wrapped up in the wrong details and…" Savannah started.

  "They can't see the forest for the trees," Michael explained.

  Adam repeated, "Can't see the forest for the trees? That doesn't make any sense at all."

  Savannah reached into the backseat and patted his knee. "It will someday, kiddo." She frowned. "Unfortunately."

  ****

  "You're brooding," Michael said, nudging Savannah that evening as she stared down at her phone. What is it?"

  "Oh, Michael, I just remembered that Rags was the only grey-and-white cat in that litter. There were two kittens that looked like the mother. I saw both of them. Then there was a long-haired calico. And evidently two others that Jeannie's crazy-criminal husband sold as purebreds, although they were not. There were no other kittens in that litter like Rags. For a while there it made sense to me, what Adam said. I thought I remembered hearing that Rags had a sibling that looked like him, but when I went back to my notes, that wasn't the case—he was the only grey-and-white in that litter."

  "Are you absolutely sure?" he asked. "Or maybe there was another litter with a cat that resembled Rags in the same shelter. Have you checked into that possibility?"

  "Now we're talking long shots, don't you think so?" she asked.

  He shook his head. "It's sure worth a try to find out. Isn't that what you love doing most; chasing down a mystery?" He patted her thigh. "Why don't you call Jeannie and maybe the gal you met at that shelter down south and the pet store guy? What time's your meeting with Sondra tomorrow?"

  "One. Yes, I have time to do that. I guess I might as well." She kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, hon. You've given me a little bit of encouragement, but…" she shook her head, "I'm not all that hopeful, I'm afraid."

  ****

  "Mom, can you entertain the children for half an hour or so?" Savannah asked, the following morning after starting a load of laundry.

  "Sure," Gladys said. "I think Lily wants to play paper dolls. Did Bethany teach her about paper dolls? She's had these for a while, but didn't show much interest in them."

  Savannah smiled. "Yes, they did play with paper dolls a lot when we were in camp." She picked up her phone and walked into the living room. After placing a call, she said, "Hi, Jeannie, it's Savannah. How are you?"

  "Great, how are you? Are you back from your camping trip? How did that go?"

  "Yes, got back last night. It was so much fun. The kids did really well tent-camping. I think they enjoyed it. They caught fish, we went hiking and swimming. It was great spending time with Michael's brother and his family. Yes, it was really a wonderful trip." She sighed. "Now back to reality. Jeannie, I have a question."

  "Oh?"

  "Yes, it's about Rags's litter."

  "Angel's kittens?" she confirmed.

  "Yes, now did Angel have another male kitten with Rags's coloring?"

  After hesitating, Jeannie said, "Well, no, Savannah. Rags and the calico were the only two who didn't have Angel's coloring. You knew that."

  "Oh," Savannah moaned. "I was afraid that's what you'd say."

  "Why, Savannah? Is this for another book?"

  "No," she said. "Actually, Rags's life and my life as we know it may be in jeopardy. I was just hoping…"

  "What's going on, Savannah? What happened?"

  "Well, a man has come forward saying that he owns Rags. He says someone stole him and he got adopted out behind his back. He claims that his cat's mother's name was Angel and she was a Ragdoll. He believes Rags is his long-lost cat. He's planning to take me to court to get him back."

  "Oh my goodness, Savannah. I'm so sorry."

  "Yeah, well, I got to thinking that maybe there was another kitten in the litter that I'd forgotten about or wasn't told about and…"

  "No. I'm sorry."

  "Then that guy could be making all that up," Savannah groused. "I've had crazier things happen. Well, listen, I have a lot to do today before I meet with the attorney. It was a long shot. Thanks, anyway."

  "Sure," Jeannie said. "I really wish I could have helped."

  "I appreciate that. Talk to you soon."

  "No luck?" Gladys asked when Savannah joined her and the children in the living room.

  She shook her head. "And that worries me. Rochelle said Colonel Bowls is telling the truth." She grimaced. "Yes, that worries me a lot." She picked up her phone again. With renewed energy she said, "But I'm not leaving any leaf unturned. Excuse me, Mom, I have a couple more calls to make. "Hello, Edgar, this is Savannah Ivey," she said, returning to the dining room.

  "Savannah Ivey," he repeated. "Oh yes, the crazy klepto cat. You adopted that crazy klepto cat and wrote a book about him. I enjoyed that book, by the way. I probably got you some sales, because I've talked about it so much to customers who like cats."

  "I should have Rags's agent talk to you about selling the book there," she suggested.

  "Sure, have him call me," Edgar said. "What can I do for you today?"

  "Well, I have a question."

  "Still looking into his heritage—his genealogy?" he asked.

  "Sort of," she said. "I'm just wondering if there was another kitten up for adoption at your store that looked like Rags and was the same age. I believe this would have been when Rags was younger—maybe before he was adopted out to that woman named Cathy."

  "Oh…um…" he hestitated. "Not that I recall. No, I don't think so."

  "You don't have records?" she asked. "You kept good records with regard to Rags and his siblings."

  "Yes, I do pretty well with that, but sometimes it's hit and miss. You know what, I'll ask some of my long-time employees if they remember, and I will check records, but I'm pretty sure your cat was a one of a kind during that time."

  "Thanks, I'd really appreciate you letting me know if you find any information to the contrary."

  "Sure," he said. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

  "Yeah, I hope so. Thanks for checking into that for me. It is rather important."

  "Sure," he said again.

  After that call, Savannah tried one more number. "Hi, Marilyn. It's Savannah Ivey. You know, with Rags, one of Jeannie's Ragdoll-cat's kittens."

  "Yes, I remember you, Savannah. What up? Looking to adopt another kitten?"

  She chuckled.
"No, I'm afraid not. I desperately need some information and I sure hope you can provide it."

  "Sounds dire. Of course, I'll give you whatever I have. I hope I can help," Marilyn said. "You do sound desperate."

  "Marilyn, did you have another kitten at the time you had Rags that looked something like Rags—you know, grey-and-white?"

  "Oh," she said, letting out a deep breath. "You're really testing my memory, aren't you? That's been almost eight years ago!"

  "Yes. Please, it's really important, even to the point that I could lose Rags."

  "What?" Marilyn yelped. "Why?"

  "Well, someone has come out of the woodwork, and he's claiming that he adopted Rags, I think when he was quite young. Someone took off with the cat, and I guess he'd pretty much given up looking for him until he read about Rags in my book. He said his cat's mother's name was Angel, and she was a Ragdoll. I can't imagine that any court would make me give up Rags, but if he can prove ownership, I guess it could happen. There's always that possibility. Yes, I'm desperate, Marilyn. Is it possible that Angel had another male kitten that looked like Rags?"

  "Gee, that would have been an awfully big litter if so," Marilyn said. "Remember, there were two other Ragdoll look-alikes in that litter, which Jeannie's husband handed off before he brought the rest of the litter to us. No," she said. "I don't know what that man's trying to pull, but I think he's wrong. He says he adopted Rags?"

  "Yes, and the time frame might fit, but I haven't seen exactly what he's basing his claim on." When Marilyn remained quiet, Savannah said, "So as far as you know and your records show, the woman named Cathy was the first person to adopt Rags and he was still young then—what, about ten weeks? Then she returned him when he was six months old." Savannah shook her head. "You, know, Marilyn, I guess I'd better see what facts and documents the gentleman comes up with before I take any more of your time. I can guestimate and use wishful thinking all day long, but what we need are facts." Savannah let out a sigh. "I just hope what he shows us proves he's all wrong."

  "Whew!" Marilyn exclaimed. "It's a frightening thought, but with that cat, I guess it's actually possible. Regarding whether or not he adopted your cat from us, I have to say our adoption procedure and our records are pretty straightforward. I can't imagine there being a mix-up like what you're talking about. It just doesn't happen, unless another shelter was involved at some point." She paused and said, "Wait—just about eight years ago we had a volunteer who…Oh yes, it's coming back to me now. Regina."

  "What?" Savannah urged.

  "Well, I let her go; we had to refuse her help which is pretty much unheard of in this business because it's so hard to get good help. Regina was a little off. She lived in sort of a la-la land. She loved to make up stories. We found it entertaining at first, but I think she got carried away and actually sent adoptive parents away with sometimes erroneous information about their cats."

  "Really?" Savannah said. "So are you saying that this man might have adopted another kitten from your shelter and Regina could have given him the wrong information? Could she have told him that he was from Angel's litter? It does make for interesting conversation to introduce a cat like Rags as half Ragdoll."

  "I imagine it does," Marilyn said. "Say, what's the gent's name who claims to have adopted that kitten?"

  "Cedric Bowls," Savannah responded. "Colonel Cedric Bowls."

  "Let me do some checking and see what I can come up with," Marilyn offered.

  "Oh please. That would be great. Thank you! Now I feel hopeful. I have something to tell my attorney. I have a meeting with her in a little while."

  "I'll get back to you as soon as possible, Savannah."

  "Thank you so much."

  "Well, it appears that was a more successful call," Gladys said, smiling at her daughter.

  "Indeed it was. Well, hopeful, anyway. I don't know about successful." Savannah dropped onto the sofa and let out a sigh.

  "Want to play dolls with us?" Lily asked.

  "Play truck with me," Teddy cried. He pulled on Savannah's hand. "Play truck with me, Mommy."

  "Okay, how about if we take the paper dolls for a ride in the truck?" she suggested.

  "Nooo," Lily wailed.

  Teddy whined, "No dolls, Mommy."

  Gladys patted Lily's hand. "Didn't you get enough of Mommy on your camping trip?"

  Lily shook her head.

  Teddy threw himself into her lap.

  ****

  "Mom, I'll be back in a couple of hours," Savannah called after they'd put the children down for a nap. "I meet with the attorney at one, then I'll do the grocery shopping. The kids will probably sleep for a while. They seemed awfully cranky earlier. Probably worn out from the long drive yesterday." She picked up her purse. "You ought to take a nap while you can."

  Gladys yawned. "I'm thinking about it. Good luck with your meeting."

  "Thanks." Savannah started to leave when her phone chimed. She looked at it. "It's Marilyn, I'll talk to her on the way to my meeting. Gads, I hope she has encouraging information for me. Hi, Marilyn," she said after she was in her car. "I'm on pins and needles. What did you find out?"

  "Well, I actually found a kitten that looked remarkably like Gray Boy, I mean Rags, and he was here at the same time as Rags. I think what happened was that Rags went to the pet store without Regina knowing and she adopted out the other kitten thinking it was Rags. Does that make sense?"

  "Well, I guess it could happen. But what about your records? How could you adopt the same kitten twice? I mean you couldn't actually do that on paper."

  "No," Marilyn said. "I don't think that's what happened. I think she simply gave the gentleman and his wife and daughters… well, I believe she gave them the wrong information. It was the right kitten according to our records, but Regina thought it was Gray Boy and she relayed the information pertinent to Gray Boy. I don't even know if we knew the background of the other cat. His file is sparse, which usually means he came to us as a stray."

  "Oh my goodness, this is wonderful news. Thank you, Marilyn. I'm so relieved right now. You just don't know. I'm on my way to see the attorney and now I can give her something that will surely disprove the colonel's claim. Poor man. He must actually believe that Rags is the cat he adopted." Savannah thought for a moment. "And that's probably because of what he read in my book. But does he think I made up the stories of the other people who adopted Rags before me? He's claiming that his cat was around eight months when he went missing and that's when I adopted Rags."

  "Have you seen a picture of his cat?"

  "No," Savannah said. "That's another thing. We need to compare the two. Of course, he's seen Rags's picture, but no, I have not seen a photo of his cat. Hey, Marilyn, do you have one in your files?"

  "I sure do. Want me to text it to you?"

  "Would you, please?" Savannah said excitedly. "Thank you."

  "Absolutely, and Savannah, if he would like to adopt a new cat and promise to keep it inside where it's safe, send him to us. We have a lot of kittens right now."

  "I will. Thanks so much, Marilyn," she said, ending the call. She couldn't help it, "Zowie!" she cheered. She murmured, "Great news, only…" She thought back to Rochelle's warning. Why did she tell me he was right? Suddenly it dawned on her. Rochelle didn't say he was right, she said he was telling the truth. Yes, I guess he was telling the truth as he knows it. Poor guy. I hope he finds his cat.

  ****

  That evening over dinner, the theme around the table was jubilance. Michael squeezed Savannah's hand. "It's wonderful to see you so happy."

  She smiled. "I don't know when I've felt so relieved and relaxed. I'm safe at home with my family and our pets. We're all healthy and there are no worries or threats to our beautiful existence. Yeah, I'm happy," she said. She looked at him. "Aren't you?"

  He winked at her. "Hey, I'm happy every single day since you came into my life."

  "Awww. What a nice thing to say." She leaned over and kissed him.

&
nbsp; "Stop it!" Teddy shouted.

  "What?" Savannah asked. "You don't want Mommy and Daddy kissing?"

  He shook his head and pointed at her plate. "Eat."

  Everyone laughed.

  "He's starting early with that kind of talk," Gladys said.

  Michael grinned at the toddler. "Our son's advanced." He asked, "So what's next on our agenda? Do we get to relax for the rest of the summer?"

  Savannah winced. "Well, it depends on what you call relaxing."

  He slumped and grumbled, "Oh no. Don't tell me there's more have-tos."

  "Have-tos?" she repeated laughing. "Just one large and very special event."

  "What?" he asked suspiciously.

  "Michael, don't you remember that Bri and our veterinary partner are getting married?" She looked at her mother, "That's what—two weeks from tomorrow?"

  Her mother nodded.

  "Do I have to get dressed up and go someplace? Can't I just stay here? I can watch the wedding on video."

  "Sure, you can certainly stay here. In fact, I hope you will," she said.

  "Why?" he asked, perplexed.

  "Because the wedding will be here," she said, grinning.

  "Savannah!" he said sternly. "Here? Why? What happened to ‘we're being married on the lot where our family home will be'?"

  Savannah chuckled. "Boy, are you ever in the dark ages."

  "Why? Did something change? Why wasn't I informed?"

  "What happened is they've already started building their house. You knew that, Michael. Their contractor had a cancellation and offered to start immediately. Bri and Bud agreed and asked if they could be married here and we said yes."

  "We?" he questioned.

  "Well, I thought I mentioned it to you. Mom and I agreed." She frowned. "Maybe I did forget to tell you. I'm sorry, hon, but you won't have that much to do. All of the arrangements have been made—catering and all. We're simply supplying the venue. Easy peasy," she said cheerfully.

  Michael shook his head slowly. "If only I could believe that."

  Stay in touch with Patricia Fry, author of the Klepto Cat Mysteries