The Case of Too Many Clues

by Cindy Vincent

  And I do mean nasty!

  Holy Catnip!

  Needless to say, I didn’t exactly like thunderstorms. All that flashing lightning was scary enough, but those rotten storms also gave my fur plenty of static. In fact, our Dad always said I was a walking sparkplug during a storm. Yet the worst part for me was the really loud, booming thunder. Sure, I know I’m supposed to be a big, brave cat detective. But the truth is, thunderstorms almost always sent me racing for a nice safe spot. Usually right under our Mom and Dad’s bed.

  So, let me tell you, when I saw that storm coming, I was suddenly in a very big hurry to get back inside our house. I put one of my huge paws on the side of that jar and batted it with everything I had. Like I was batting a cat toy. Thankfully, it didn’t matter that my paw didn’t go right where I wanted it to go, since the jar was bigger than my paw. My aim was close enough, and that jar went sliding straight into our house. Once it was past the door, I scurried back inside and batted it into the dining room. With one last swipe, I slid it behind the same potted plant where Bogey stashed his cat treats.

  Then I returned to Bogey.

  “Got it, kid?” he meowed.

  “Got it.” I gave him a “paws up.”

  Bogey grinned. “Good job, kid.” And just like that, he quit his howling. Then he rolled over and bounced to his feet.

  Gracie and our Mom both gasped and looked at each other.

  “What in the world . . .?” our Mom sort of muttered.

  “I guess Bogey is fine.” Gracie rubbed his back and he purred in return.

  Our Mom shook her head. “I don’t know . . . He certainly acted like he was in a lot of pain. I wonder if we should take him to the vet’s office. Just to be sure he’s all right.”

  With those words, Bogey made a giant leap into the air and then loped around in a big circle. Just to prove he was okay.

  Anything to avoid a trip to the vet’s office.

  Gracie picked him up and cuddled him. “I guess he doesn’t need to go to the doctor. But I’m going to keep an eye on him.”

  And that’s when something caught my eye. Something outside. I turned my head and saw a yellow-haired woman racing right up our front walkway! In fact, it seemed like she practically flew in on the wind that was blowing in our direction. The gale ruffled the fur of the scrawny, calico kitten the woman carried before her with outstretched arms. That tiny kitten had huge, wide eyes and a look of confusion written all over her face.

  “Yoo-hoo!” the woman hollered as she came closer. “Mrs. Abernathy, could I please speak to you?”

  Our Mom picked me up, probably to make sure I stayed in the house. “Well, hello, Mrs. Bumble. I haven’t seen much of you since you moved into the neighborhood. And please call me Abby. Everyone does.”

  “Then please call me Bea, my dear,” the woman said as she came ever closer.

  Now I could see the lady was wearing a blue, bee-print shirt. She also had on big, black glasses with sparkly bees attached to the corners.

  “‘Bea’ it is,” our Mom said. “So how is the honey business?”

  “Buzzing,” came the lady’s reply.

  By now the kitten looked even more dazed than she had before. In fact, I could see that she’d started to shake just a little bit.

  Our Mom smiled. “And what shall we call this little one you’re carrying around with you?”

  Bea frowned. “Well, she doesn’t actually have a name. And that brings me to the reason why I’m here today. You know I take in foster cats.”

  “Yes, I’d heard something about that,” our Mom nodded as the lady stepped onto the porch.

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Bumble,” Gracie said. “But what does that mean? Foster?”

  Bea held the little kitten up high and looked her over from head to foot. “It means that I take care of cats and give them a home for a short time. Until I can find forever homes for them, where they’ll stay for the rest of their lives.”

  “Oh, I see,” Gracie murmured. “So the poor homeless cats can have a place to stay. While they’re waiting for someone to adopt them.”

  Bea nodded. “That’s right, young lady.”

  Our Mom hugged me tighter. “It’s wonderful that you take them in, Bea. Especially since I’ve heard the shelters are full right now and some poor animals have no place to go.”

  I thought of the cat shelter that our friend, Luke, the church cat, ran at our family’s church. The shelter was named after Bogey and me. And last I’d heard, it was full, too.

  Bea raised her dark eyebrows. “Very kind of you to say, Abby. And now I’m hoping you might help me out. I found this little calico chasing the bees in my backyard. I don’t know where she came from, and none of my neighbors have ever seen her before. So, as near as I can tell, she’s a stray kitten. But I’m afraid I just don’t have room to take in any more foster cats at the moment. Then I remembered that you have cats and you take very good care of them. So I was wondering if you’d be a foster Mom to this little kitten for a few weeks. Just until I have room at my place. Or until I can find her a forever home.”

  “Well, we do have a houseful already . . .” our Mom started to say.

  “Please, Mom,” Gracie chimed in. “That little kitten looks really scared. And if we don’t take her in, what will happen to her?”

  Our Mom sighed and laughed. “Well, I guess we could take in one more. Until you can find a permanent home for her, Bea.”

  “Thank you so much,” Bea gushed. “I’m sure she won’t be much trouble. She’s such a tiny little thing.”

  “But don’t you think we should give her a name?” Gracie asked.

  Bea shook her head. “I wouldn’t bother. She’ll get a whole new name when she gets adopted into a permanent home. And then she’ll just have to learn her name all over again.”

  Gracie frowned. “Oh . . .”

  Bea darted a glance at the sky. “Well, it looks like I’d better buzz on home before this storm hits!”

  And without another word, she plopped the tiny kitten onto our hardwood floor. Then she turned on her heel and raced off into the wind, while thunder boomed in the distance.

  I looked at those mean, black clouds in the sky, and I was really glad that our Mom was holding me nice and tight. Because it sure looked like we were in for a real doozie of a storm! And all of a sudden, I started to shake almost as much as that little kitten.

  Holy Catnip!

  CHAPTER 2

  Holy Mackerel!

  There we were, with a big, ugly thunderstorm headed our way, and a cute, little kitten who was already here to stay. For a while, anyway. A kitten with no name. What in the world were we supposed to call her?

  And on top of it all, the clue that we’d found on our porch was still hidden behind the potted plant.

  Our Mom shut the front door and set me gently on the floor. “I guess we’ve got a new addition to the family. Even if it’s only temporary. Welcome to our home, little one.” She reached over and petted the tiny cat’s head.

  “She’s so adorable,” Gracie said right before she kissed Bogey on the head and set him on the floor. Then she scooped that shivering kitten up off the floor and cuddled her in her hands.

  “Don’t be scared,” she cooed to the cat.

  The kitten’s green eyes went even wider than before as she snuggled in to Gracie. “I’m not s-c-a-r-e-d,” she meowed down to Bogey and me in a shaky voice.

  Well, I had to say, that really surprised me. Because she sure looked scared to me. And she sure sounded scared. And I just happen to know a thing or two about being scared. In fact, you might even say I’m sort of an expert on the subject. So let me tell you, if I’ve ever seen a cat who was scared before, well, she was it.

  Yet the more I watched her, the more I realized how different she looked from any other cat I’ve ever seen. That was the thing about calico cats, cats with coats of many colors. No two looked a thing alike. The colors in their fur came out in every pattern and design that anyone
could ever imagine. And then some.

  This little kitten had one orange arm and one black arm, and black around both her eyes, like she was wearing a mask. She had white ears and a little black mustache beneath her pink nose. Above her nose, she had an orange-striped patch that reached all the way up to her forehead. But her neck, paws, and belly were all white. She looked like someone had tried to color her with crayons, but couldn’t decide which color to use.

  Though I didn’t care about any of that when thunder suddenly boomed outside. And I nearly jumped to the ceiling when a big lightning bolt flashed just outside our window. Talk about being scared!

  Without thinking, I scampered around and hid behind Gracie’s legs. Not that a big guy like me could possibly hide behind her thin legs. Still, I did my best.

  Gracie giggled. “Oh, Buckley, there’s nothing to worry about. It’s only a storm. You’re safe inside our house.”

  Our Mom smiled at Gracie. “Honey, would you mind taking care of these kitties for a little bit? While I finish cooking dinner?”

  “Sure thing, Mom,” Gracie said as she kneeled down closer to me and Bogey. All the while, she kept the kitten snuggled up at her shoulder.

  But our Mom had barely gone back to the kitchen when Gracie’s cell phone made a ding-ding noise from her pocket. It sounded like she’d gotten a message.

  She immediately put the kitten on the floor. “You just wait here for a second, little one. I’ll be back with you in a minute.” Then she grabbed her phone from her pocket and tapped on it a few times. “Oh look, it’s from Olivia!” With a big smile, Gracie wandered over to the staircase and plopped down on the bottom step.

  Seconds later, she started to tap away on the phone with her thumbs. Really fast. As she did, she kept her eyes absolutely glued to that little screen. She didn’t look up, down, right, left, or anywhere else. She just kept on staring at her phone.

  As near as I could tell, it must have been a pretty important message, for her to just walk away like that. Especially after our Mom had asked her to watch over the little foster kitten. And us. Gracie was usually a very responsible girl, and she always took very good care of all the cats in our house. To tell you the truth, we loved her like she was our real sister.

  So I decided to lend a paw and step in where Gracie had left off. “Welcome to our house,” I told the little calico. “My name is Buckley and this is my brother, Bogart. Or Bogey, for short.”

  I was about to ask her name, too. Just to be polite. But then I remembered she didn’t have a name. Somehow, that seemed really wrong to me. After all, I had a name! One that I liked a lot. And Bogey had a name. And the other three cats who lived in our house all had names. Some of the cats even had two. For instance, one of the cats who lived here was named Princess Alexandra, but the humans called her Lexie. And we mostly just called her Princess. Then there was a really, really old cat who we called the Wise One. But her real name was Miss Mokie. And finally, there was Lil Bits, and we usually called her Lil.

  All the cats in our house had great names. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like not to have one. If you don’t have a name, how do you know who you are? And what do you call yourself? No matter how I looked at it, it didn’t seem fair to me that this tiny kitten didn’t have a name, too.

  Another round of thunder rumbled outside and the little cat jumped. Well, to be honest, she wasn’t the only one. I may have gone airborne myself a little bit.

  But the kitten quickly put on a brave face and looked up at me. “Buckley and Bogey . . .? Wait a minute . . .” She paused and her mouth fell open wide. “I’ve heard of you guys! You’re cat detectives, aren’t you?”

  I smiled at the tiny creature. “Uh-huh, we are. We run the BBCDA.”

  She gasped. “I’ve heard of that, too! Wow, I can’t believe it! Here I am, staying at the house where Buckley and Bogey live!”

  Then all of a sudden, she leaped into the air, practically bursting with excitement. She danced across the room and back, before she started to race around in tight, little circles. Around and around and around she went. As near as I could tell, she had a lot of energy inside of her and it seemed to be coming out all at once. And she didn’t show any signs of stopping any time soon.

  It made me dizzy just watching her. Really dizzy.

  I turned to my brother. “Um, Bogey . . . what do we do about this?”

  Bogey let out a little chuckle. “Don’t sweat it, kid. I’ve seen this kind of thing before. I’ve got it covered.”

  And the next thing I knew, Bogey had grabbed a hidden bag of cat treats from under the stairs and was waving a treat in the air. A fish-flavored treat. Known in our house as one of the tastiest of all treat flavors. And like someone had turned off a switch, the kitten suddenly stopped moving. She sniffed the air and made a beeline for Bogey.

  He grinned and gave me a sideways glance. “Works every time, kid.” He passed the treat to the tiny cat and gave us a round, too.

  The kitten put the treat in her mouth, and her eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh . . . my goodness,” she said in a whisper. “That is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. Could I have another one?”

  Bogey grinned. “Sure, knock yourself out. First cat treat?”

  “Uh-huh.” She stuffed the second treat in her mouth and ate at the speed of a runaway mouse. When she was finished, Bogey gave us each another round. And another.

  Finally, he raised an eyebrow. “Take it easy there, Short-stuff. Better pace yourself.”

  She downed her treats and began to dance around the room again. “I want to be a cat detective just like you guys so I can have cat treats every single day. And I’m going to be a really great cat detective. A really, really great cat detective. I already know how to do cat karate!”

  “You do?” I asked as she practically bounced off one wall and then over to the other.

  For the second time since I’d met her, I had to say, I found her information to be pretty surprising. After all, she was so young. When did she have time to learn something like cat karate? I didn’t even know cat karate, and I was a lot older. Lil Bits once told me that she knew cat karate, and she’d learned it when she was about a year old. Though I’d never seen her use it.

  “Watch me, Buckley! I’ll show you my best cat karate move!” the kitten hollered. Then she raced up six steps, slipped between two spindles, and launched herself off the edge of the staircase. She went flying through the air sideways, with one back foot leading the way. “Hi-yah!” she shrieked as she soared across the room and ran right into a tall vase on the floor.

  The vase fell over and the fake flowers inside went sliding out. Thankfully, the vase didn’t break and the kitten didn’t seem to be hurt, either. She got up, shook her head, and strolled away. Like nothing had ever happened.

  Now I had to wonder, did the tiny kitten mean to hit that vase? It seemed more like she’d run in to it by accident. To tell you the truth, I’d never actually seen a cat do cat karate before. So I didn’t really know if this kitten was doing it right or not.

  But she sure seemed to think she was.

  Without a word, I glanced at my brother, ready to ask him what he thought. But he raised his brows and shook his head.

  All the while, Gracie just kept on staring at her cell phone. Staring without even blinking. I was starting to get worried about her, since it seemed like she was hypnotized. Plus, I was really hoping she would take care of the little kitten who was now flitting around the room. Even faster than before. All that bouncing around sure made it hard for a guy like me to think straight.

  Thankfully, the kitten suddenly ran out of steam and trotted back to me. “Buckley, why don’t I have a name?” Her eyes filled with tears and her little face fell. “How can I ever be a cat detective if I don’t have a name? Everyone else has a name. How come I don’t?” Then before I knew it, she started making a sad kind of mew-mew-mew-mew sound. It sounded like . . . crying?

  And it went on and on and on. F
or some reason, it made my stomach go all mushy. Plus it made me even more nervous than the thunderstorm that was booming and flashing outside. More than anything, I just wanted that mewing sound to stop.

  “Um . . . well . . .” I stuttered. “Don’t you know? You do have a name.”

  Her tears stopped and her eyes went wide. “I do?”

  Bogey crinkled his brow as he stashed the cat treat bag under the stairs again.

  “Well, um . . . yes,” I told her, trying to think on my paws. “Your name is . . . your name is . . . um, well . . .”

  Right at that moment, I really didn’t have a clue what to say next. Because this tiny kitten didn’t have a name at all. And even if I could give her one, I had no idea what name to give her. Yet if I didn’t hurry up and come up with a name, I knew she was going to be really upset. Then she would probably start that pitiful mewing sound again. Plus, she might even feel worse than she already did.

  Lightning flashed outside and I glanced at the doorknob on the front door. That’s when I noticed the doorknob plate. Imprinted at the bottom were a whole bunch of numbers and then finally the letters M and T. This was followed by a dash and then the letter Z. Bogey would have told me it was the part number. But I didn’t give it another thought and I quickly blurted out, ”M-m-m-i-i-t-t . . . z-e-e.” It was the only thing I could come up with on short notice.

  “Mitzi?” she repeated with a smile that filled her face.

  “Umm . . . yes. Uh-huh. That’s it,” I nodded and gave her a pat on her little back.

  She sat up nice and straight. “Oh, that’s so pretty. I love it! Mitzi, Mitzi, Mitzi. Thanks for giving me my name, Buckley! You’re the best!” Then she stood on her hind legs, reached up as far as she could go and gave me a hug.

  I put one of my big arms around her and hugged her back.

  A half a second later, she went back to dancing around the room. And she kept saying her name over and over again. “Mitzi, Mitzi, Mitzi, Mitzi!”