by Patricia Fry
“Yeah, I can do that. What time?”
After thinking about it for a moment, Savannah said, “Around Lily’s nap time—say elevenish?”
****
“Savannah, this is Francine,” Iris said upon their arrival at the Ivey home the following morning. “She’s our cat lady.”
“Nice to meet you,” Savannah greeted. “Come in. We can sit here in the living room. Can I get you a cup of coffee or iced tea?”
“Coffee sounds good,” Iris said, still standing. “I’ve only had half of a cup today.”
“Can I have a glass of water?” Francine asked, adjusting the headband around her short, black wavy hair. “Or a bottle of water…whichever is handy.”
“Sure.” Savannah started to walk away, then turned to the forty-something-year-old woman. “Love your blouse.”
Francine glanced down at her top. “Nineteen ninety-five at Spencers.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I could wear it as nicely as you can. Don’t you think I’m too tall? That would be a lot of flowers on this frame.”
“Oh, Savannah,” Iris said, “I’d wear it and I’m taller than you are.” She pinched Savannah’s waist. “And almost as slender.”
“But more flamboyant,” Savannah teased. She headed toward the kitchen, calling out, “In a good way.”
Once the three women were seated with their beverages, Iris said, “Francine, I was eager for you to meet Savannah. She and her aunt helped me find the cuddle cats.”
Francine laughed. “I love that term cuddle cats. It makes me smile. I can’t wait to meet them.” She gazed toward the dining room. “Oh, isn’t this a beauty?”
Savannah looked up. “That’s Rags. He was the biggest help in picking out the cats.”
“I heard about that,” Francine said, smiling. She cocked her head and studied Rags as he licked one of his paws. “I think I’ve seen him before.”
“Uh-oh, where?” Savannah asked.
“In the newspaper, I believe, or maybe on TV, or it could have been on a poster. I always stop and look at posters showing missing or lost animals.” She looked at Savannah. “Did he go missing a while back?”
“He sure did,” Iris said, her eyes wide. “The whole community was looking for him and my son’s cat, Dolly. They escaped through a window.”
“Well, I’m glad you found your way back home, pretty boy.” Francine wriggled her fingers to attract him. “Come see me, Rags.” When he sauntered up to her, she ran her hand from the top of his head to the tip of his tail, then began scratching his cheek. “He’s a nice cat. I love his plush fur. He’s sure friendly. Does he like everyone he meets?”
“Actually, no,” Savannah admitted. “There’ve been a few times when he was downright rude to a guest and it turned out that guest was not a good person. He seems to know who to trust.”
“I believe animals can pick up on vibes—good ones and bad ones.” She looked into Rags’s eyes. “Some animals are more intuitive than others, don’t you ladies think so?”
Savannah nodded. “Certainly.”
“That cat sure has good instincts,” Iris said. “He has even helped my husband solve some tough crimes. He’s a detective, you know.” She laughed. “I mean, my husband’s a detective, not the cat. Although Rags is an honorary member of the sheriff’s department, isn’t he, Savannah?”
“Really?” Francine exclaimed.
“Yeah, I’m afraid he’s a bit of a kleptomaniac,” Savannah admitted. “He seems to have the uncanny ability to find clues and other interesting things and an instinct to share them with the right people.” She pointed. “Uh-oh, you’d better grab your purse there, Francine; he has his nose in it.”
Francine’s face lit up. “A klepto cat? I love it.” At that moment, she noticed Rags trotting away from her, holding his head high. “Wait!” she called. Somewhat bewildered, she muttered, “He just took that watch out of my purse.”
“Darn it, Rags,” Savannah said, rushing after him. When she caught up with him, he had dropped the watch, and she picked it up. “Thank you,” she said, petting him. She handed the watch to Francine. “Sorry about that.”
Francine chuckled as she took the watch. “Oh, don’t worry. Now I have a story to tell my little nieces. They love my cat stories. And most of them are true.”
“Well, that was painless,” Iris said.
Savannah looked at her. “What?”
“He gave up his booty rather easily. Usually you have to chase him all over the house, don’t you?”
Savannah grinned. “Yeah, but the watch was kind of heavy and cumbersome for him to run with. He was doomed and he knew it.” She turned to Francine. “Do you have your own cats?”
“Not at this time. These days, I get my cat fix mostly from house-sitting where there are cats.”
“She has some great references from clients,” Iris explained. “She also volunteers at the main animal shelter—you know, where we found Sparky.”
Just then Rags put his paws on Francine’s knee. “Do you want up in my lap?” She sat back to make room. “Come on, come up and see me.”
“Well that’s new,” Savannah muttered as she watched Rags hop up onto Francine’s lap.
“What?” Iris asked.
“Rags climbing up on someone’s lap. He’s not really a lap cat.” She chuckled. “But look at that; he’s comfortable on your lap, Francine, even though he’s hanging over on all sides.”
Iris laughed. “He sure is. But he looks contented.”
“Will he be a cuddle cat at the B-and-B?” Francine asked. “I’d love to have him under my care.”
Savannah shook her head. “No, he stays here. We kind of like having him under our care,” she quipped. “But he might visit sometime. He’s made friends with all of the cuddle cats.” She glanced at Iris. “If it’s okay, I might bring him over to see them.”
“Sounds good to me,” Iris said.
“I look forward to it,” Francine agreed.
Iris stood up. “Well, Miss Francine, I’d better get you back to your car. They’re probably expecting you at the shelter.”
Francine nodded. She eased Rags off her lap and petted him one last time. “Good bye, Rags. Hope to see you soon.” She stood. “Nice to meet you, Savannah. Thanks for all your help with the cuddle cats.”
“You’re entirely welcome. Nice to meet you, too.” She addressed Iris. “So we have a date to gather up your cats?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll pick you up Monday morning with enough carriers for…how many cats do you have now?”
“Four. We may have five all together. Mavis said one of her mother’s cats might like to be a cuddle cat. Remember the matching pair of cats we saw at Melody’s house the day we gave Bonnie-kitty her medicine?”
“Yeah. They were white with tabby markings, as I recall.”
“I think so,” Iris said. “Well, Mavis believes the smaller one, Crystal, would be a good candidate for the inn.”
Savannah paused before saying, “I think I’m missing one. You have Sophie, Sparky, Oscar, and Crystal; that’s four.”
“Remember the little yellow girl Rags kept eyeing? Ginger was her name.”
Savannah laughed. “Oh yes, at the shelter downtown. Yeah, he did seem smitten with her. So you’ve decided to take her, too?” When Iris nodded, Savannah said, “Okay, so I need four carriers, then. See you Monday at around ten.”
Iris started to step out through the front door, when she turned back toward Savannah. “I sure hope this isn’t a bad idea.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, I don’t know, something occurred to me in the middle of the night that maybe we’re on the wrong track. What if there aren’t enough people who actually like cats and they become more of a nuisance than an attraction? Plus,” Iris continued, “are we doing the right thing for the cats?”
After remaining silent for a few moments, Savannah said, “Wel
l, Iris, I guess the only way to find out is to give it a try. I think there are a lot of people who would stay in a beautiful inn full of cats. And Francine will be there, so no cats will be harmed or neglected. In fact, they might just thrive in that environment. As Auntie says in so many situations, ‘What could possibly go wrong?’”
Chapter 3
It was a bright sunny day in September when Savannah picked up Sophie at her aunt’s cattery. “Want to come with us to get the rest of the cats?” Savannah invited as she eased Sophie’s carrier into the SUV.
“Oh, look at Rags greet her,” Margaret said. “Do you think he remembers her?”
Savannah laughed. “Probably. Yeah, he does seem happy to see her.”
“And she’s pretty stoked, too. That’s her happy dance you’re seeing there.”
Both women laughed, then Savannah asked again, “Do you want to come with us?”
After thinking about it, Margaret said, “I’d better finish up my chores here. When will you be out at the Kaiser place? I’d love to see Iris’s completed remodel job.”
“I don’t know. How about if I call you when we’re on our way? You can meet us there.”
“Okay. I want to see the cat run Iris’s crew built. I might decide to have one constructed here.”
“For your own cats or the shelter cats?”
Margaret shrugged. “Maybe both.”
Just then, one of the volunteers called, “Maggie, can you help me with something? Tinker’s refusing to take his meds.”
“Oh dear,” Margaret said under her breath. She leaned toward Savannah and spoke quietly, “I hate cleaning up someone else’s mess. Once a cat has his way, it’s pretty hard to get an upper hand with him.” She let out a deep sigh. “Such is life with cats.” Turning away, she waved her hand in the air. “Call me later.”
“How did our first cuddle cat ride?” Iris asked, peering into the back of the SUV when Savannah arrived to pick her up. “Hi Rags. Are you keeping our girl company? Oh Savannah, they’re so cute. They’re holding hands…well, paws.”
“They are?”
“Yes, she’s pushing her paw against the wire from inside the cage and he’s butting his up to hers. They both look calm and quiet.” Once she was seated with her seatbelt fastened, Iris continued, “Tommy-kitty sure complains when we take him on a car ride—you know, to get his shots, or that time he had the problem with his tooth and we took him to the clinic to see Michael.”
“That’s odd,” Savannah said. “He rode just fine with us all the way home from Big Sur when he was a kitten.”
Iris looked at Savannah. “Are all of your cats good travelers?”
Savannah shook her head. “No. Walter is a bit of a ridezilla.”
“Huh?” Iris asked, frowning.
“He doesn’t like car rides, but Buffy’s pretty good.”
Iris smiled. “Ahhh, that little princess would make a great cuddle cat.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Savannah snapped playfully. “Although, it would probably be a relief for Buffy.” When Iris looked confused, she explained, “Being a cuddle cat at the inn would give her a respite from Lily.”
“Oh yeah, I’ll bet she’d be more than happy to trade her life with the active kid for a cozy room with other cats.”
Savannah frowned. “You do? I’d hate to think she’d want to leave us. I just love her so much, and so does Lily.” She chuckled. “Although our daughter plays a little rougher than Buffy would prefer sometimes.”
“Where is the cherub today?”
“Barbara’s daycare. I like to take her there at least once a week so she learns to play nice with other children. At home all she has are the animals, and she can pretty much get her way with them…” Savannah laughed, “…and with her Daddy.”
Iris chuckled. “She has him wrapped around her little finger, does she?” She gazed at Savannah. “So which cat are we picking up next?”
“I thought we’d go to the main shelter and get Sparky and…what’s her name…Ginger. Then we can pick up Oscar out at Betty’s place. Sound good?”
Iris nodded. “Yes. Mavis and Michelle return a week from tomorrow and they’ll bring Crystal over.” Iris clasped her hands under her chin. “Then our entire fur family will be together.”
Savannah glanced at Iris while she drove. “I’ve never seen you so giddy over cats.”
“No. No, I guess you haven’t. I’ve never felt giddy over cats before. But this is different. I just think it’ll be fun and so charming to have these beautiful, mild-mannered cats gracing my—did you hear that, Savannah? My bed-and-breakfast. It’s just so exciting, that’s all.”
“And I’m excited for you. I hope it will be everything you’ve dreamed of.”
Iris thinned her lips. “Yes, and I hope it’s temporary.”
“You’re ready to move on already?” Savannah asked, laughing.
“I will be soon. Running a hotel with needy guests—that’s not my thing. My passion is designing and decorating.” She closed her eyes and said rather reverently, “I want to renovate old homes; that’s what I want to do.”
“And you do it so well. Just look at what you’ve created at the Kaiser place. I can’t wait to see it with all the finishing touches.”
“Thank you, Savannah. Let’s hope it attracts the clientele we want.”
“Here we are,” Savannah announced, driving slowly into the parking lot at the animal shelter. “Let’s park under that tree.” She thought for a moment, before saying, “You know, it’s warming up; I’d better stay with the cats and run the air conditioner so they don’t overheat. You can probably get someone to help you out with Sparky and Ginger, can’t you? If not, call me on my cell and I’ll run in and grab one of them.”
“Sure,” Iris said. “I have to finish up some paperwork before I can take the cats, anyway. Which cages should I take?”
Savannah cringed a little while opening the tailgate of her SUV. “Iris, let’s try not to call these cages. They’re carriers.”
“Oh?”
“Cage sounds so confining, don’t you think so?” She pointed. “Take that lighter carrier for Sparky. He’s a big boy. Either of the others will be okay for the orange tabby.”
Iris chuckled. “I guess I have a lot to learn about cats—even their language.” She put her finger to her lips. “Okay, I’ll refer to these as carriers; I don’t want Sparky and Ginger to feel restricted.”
****
“Here we are, most-special menagerie,” Iris said to the cats a little while later as she and Savannah began lifting the carriers out of the SUV. Savannah placed Sophie’s carrier on the ground. Before she could take the end of Rags’s leash, he jumped from the tailgate, rushed to Sophie, and peered in at her. The calico stood up and turned around a few times, mewing quietly. “Yeah, that’s a love connection there,” Iris said. “Let’s carry them over the threshold and see if they like their new home.”
“Want to take them to the attic room?” Savannah asked. Before Iris could respond, the women noticed a red Jeep Liberty pulling into the driveway. “Oh, it’s my aunt. Good. We can use the help.”
“I don’t think I want to lug cats up two sets of stairs,” Iris complained, “…at least not while they’re in the cages—I mean, carriers.” She chuckled. “And I’m pretty sure Maggie won’t do it, either.”
“Yeah, it’ll be easier to carry them without the carriers,” Savannah agreed. “Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless they’ll follow Rags up there.”
“Do you think they would?” Iris wondered.
Savannah shrugged. “You never know what a cat’s going to do. If I know Rags, though, he’ll want to explore, and he’ll most likely wind up in the cat room at some point.”
“Hey, how about this,” Iris said, “we could turn the cats loose in the outdoor room. If they want to explore, they should be able to find their way to the attic.” She a
cknowledged Margaret as she walked up. “Maggie, grab a carrier and follow us.”
Margaret ogled the lush landscaping around the inn. “Wow, this is great, Iris.”
“Isn’t it?” Iris said, giggling a little. “Here,” she said, motioning toward a gravel path leading to a doorway.
“Oh, how nice,” Margaret said when they entered the outdoor cat room. “I’m in awe. It’s amazing! Who designed it?”
“Well, it was a collaboration involving Mavis, June Balcomb, Nola, and me.” She placed a cat carrier on the floor inside the room and spun around. “Isn’t it fabulous?”
“Sure is,” Savannah and Margaret agreed. Savannah reached for the latch on Sparky’s carrier. “Is the door secure? Shall we let them out?”
Margaret chuckled. “Rags is ready for you to. Look how excited he is to play with his new friends.”
“One, two, three, go,” Iris said, as the women each unlatched a carrier.
After watching the cats ease out into the room and cautiously begin to explore their new environment, Savannah instructed, “Keep an eye on Rags, will you? I’ll go get Ginger.”
When Savannah returned, she found Iris and Margaret in a frenzy, hovering over Oscar. “What happened?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Margaret carped. “For some reason, Sparky jumped him. Scared the poor cat out of his wits.”
“It was awful,” Iris said. “Oscar screamed like he was being killed.”
“Oh, cats can be so dramatic,” Margaret said. “I don’t see any wounds. I doubt that he was hurt, just scared. Vannie, want to take a look at him and see what you think?”
She set Ginger’s carrier down, studied Sparky for a moment as he cowered behind a blue carpeted cat tree, then approached Oscar. “It’s okay, boy,” she cooed as she looked him over and felt for lumps or scrapes. “I think you’re just fine.” She stood up and looked at Sparky again. “Maybe we ought to check him out.”
“I don’t think Oscar fought back,” Margaret said. “He just crouched and became docile.”
