Claws for a Cause (A Klepto Cat Mystery Book 15)

by Patricia Fry

“No, just a regular dog bed.” She then asked, “How’s she feeling?”

  “Seems pretty good. The bullet,” Frances said angrily, “went into her hindquarters, so she’s on three legs for a while, but seems to be adapting.” She turned to Savannah. “I don’t think she’ll be escaping to your place anytime soon.”

  “Probably not, but I can bring Lexie by to sniff noses with her occasionally. That’s all they do is sniff noses, then Polly heads back home.”

  “Funny,” Frances said, ushering Savannah and Rags into the den. “Polly, honey, you have company. Rags came to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Hi, Polly,” Savannah said, moving toward the dog. She knelt and reached out to pet the Poodle’s face and ears. But Polly was more interested in what was on the other end of the leash Savannah held.

  As Rags moved closer, Polly began wagging her tail and whining a little. “Just lie still, sweet dog,” Frances crooned. “Let Rags come to you.”

  Savannah lifted the cat and placed him near Polly, who whined and licked him a couple of times.

  “Well, I think that did it,” Savannah said when the cat jumped off the futon and sat down next to her. “He just needed to see for himself that she’s okay. This is the most relaxed he’s been all day.”

  “Well, good,” Frances said, reaching out and petting Rags. “Thank you, dear boy, for helping to save Polly. You’re one smart cat, aren’t you?” She then scowled and said, “Now if I can just keep my husband from destroying all our animals with that darn gun of his. Savannah, it’s as if he thinks he’s living in the Wild West.”

  Savannah frowned. “Is this something new, Frances?”

  “Yes,” she said, after thinking about it. “Ever since this wolf business came up, he’s gone off the deep end.” She spoke more quietly, adding, “Last month, he nearly shot at a kid on a bicycle?”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, one of the Bronson boys heading home from his job at the supermarket in the evening about dusk. Says he thought he was a wolf.” She hesitated before saying, “I’ve wondered if it has something to do with that fall he took off his mule. He says he wasn’t hurt, but he doesn’t remember anything that happened from the time he hit the ground ‘til he showed up here an hour later, walkin’ the mule.”

  Savannah put her hand on the woman’s arm. “Frances, you’d better get him to a doctor. His actions have become dangerous. He’s going to hurt someone. Tell the doctor about his fall.” She hesitated, then said, “I think someone needs to take that gun away from him.”

  “I agree. Our sons are coming next weekend to have a talk with him. I haven’t even told them the worst. When they hear he chased down and shot poor Polly, they’re going to be furious. They’ll make sure he gets on the right track.”

  “And keep him away from that group of ranchers who are out to annihilate the wolves. He seems to be easily swayed, lately.”

  “Isn’t that the truth? Will do my best, Savannah. Thank you for letting me talk at ya. And for the brownies.”

  ****

  “Seen any wolves lately?” Margaret asked a couple of mornings later, when Savannah answered her phone.

  “Don’t even joke about it, Auntie. I’m already worried about leaving Peaches while we’re in Hawaii.”

  “I thought you were going to board her at Bonnie’s stables.”

  “Yes, I am. But if there are wolves here, there are wolves there—in fact, it would be even more likely there because the stables back up to the dense wilderness.”

  “Vannie, have you even talked to anyone who has seen a wolf close to a local ranch?”

  Savannah hesitated before saying, “No. I guess poor Jack Parsons got me skittish about the whole thing, which is a shame. I sat and listened to the experts speak and then I fall apart when a senile old guy starts making up stories about wolves.”

  “And even mistakes his own dog for a wolf,” Margaret added. “How is that dog, do you know?”

  “She’s going to be okay. Rags and I went over to visit her a couple of days ago. That was a good move. He settled down as soon as he saw that she was all right. Can you believe that cat?”

  “Honey, I’ve never believed some of the things your cat does, even when I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

  Savannah snickered. “Michael said he wishes I hadn’t come with a dowry.”

  “Dowry?” Margaret repeated.

  “Yeah, Rags.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet he does,” she said laughing. “He’s quite the mischievous cat, that’s for sure.” She paused, then said playfully, “You’re taking him on your trip, aren’t you?”

  “To Hawaii? Are you crazy?”

  “Just trying to make my load easier. I never know what I’m going to find at your house when I show up to feed animals and clean litter boxes.”

  “Oh, come on, Auntie; what trouble does he cause when we’re gone? Things are always calm when we return.”

  “Yeah, but not because Rags didn’t try to create a problem.”

  “What problem?”

  “Well, you may remember the time he took my keys while I was throwing hay to the horse and walking Lexie. I was late for a meeting and when I finished, locked up the house, and got in my car, I realized I had no keys. I couldn’t get back in, I couldn’t drive anywhere and Max was gone someplace, so I couldn’t even get into my own house to retrieve another set of keys.”

  “Oh yes, don’t remind me. But Auntie, you learned something that day, didn’t you? You learned not to leave your purse down where he can get to it, and to always zip it up—he can’t unzip yet.” She laughed. “It didn’t help that you were using a key chain with a stuffed bird or bear or something on it. He thought it was a cat toy.”

  “So true. I don’t think I told you about the time he threw a flower vase at me.”

  “What? You’re making that up.”

  “No, I’m not. I was cleaning their litter boxes, as a matter of fact, in the service porch and next thing I knew, I was drenched and surrounded by flowers. Luckily, the vase missed me. Yeah, your cat was on the washing machine watching me and pushed off that vase you’d left there.”

  “I’m sorry. I know he can be a pain. But he sure was cute when I took him to see Polly. He let her lick him, then he was ready to go home.”

  Margaret was quiet for a moment, then asked rather hesitantly, “So, Vannie, Michael hasn’t said anything about wolves around here, has he?”

  “No, why would you ask? You haven’t seen one, have you?”

  “Actually, I thought I did, just down the highway from here, walking out in that dry field.” She paused. “It could have been a dog, but darned if it didn’t look wild.”

  “Was it a coyote?”

  “I don’t think so. This animal was more filled out than the coyotes we see around here. It really looked like a wolf. Would you ask Michael if there have been any reports? Maybe I’ll call the farm bureau.”

  “Why? What will you do if it is a wolf? We know they’ve been introduced back into the wilds here.”

  “I don’t really know. It just gives me the heebie-jeebies. They’re big and capable of…”

  “There haven’t been any reports of wolves attacking humans, have there?”

  “No, but you sure don’t want to leave Lily playing out in the yard.”

  “Oh Auntie, now you have me frightened again.”

  “Sorry, Vannie, but it’s wise to be alert. Actually, we’ve had coyotes around here for years. I see them fairly often, don’t you?”

  “Yes—at least a couple every month.”

  “They’re wild animals and they haven’t bothered anything but a chicken or a stray cat now and then,” Margaret reminded her.

  “True. Okay, I’ll settle down, if you will. All we can do is keep our pets and kids close.”

  ****

  “Michael, are you sure there have been no legitimate reports of wolves around here?” Savannah asked that evening as
she prepared their dinner.

  “Not that I know of,” he said. “No calls about injuries, no more poodles being mistaken for wild animals. I think things have calmed down on that front. Why?”

  Before Savannah could respond, Rags tore into the kitchen and leaped up onto his windowsill perch. “What now?” she muttered, walking toward the cat. She then called, “Michael! Oh no, there’s a wolf! Michael, he’s heading for Peaches. Oh, my gosh! Do something!”

  “What?” he asked, joining her at the window. “Where?”

  She pointed. “Out there by the corral.” She took a few steps back. “Go scare him away, Michael!” She watched as he gazed out into the night. He then picked up a flashlight and headed out the door. “Be careful,” she called after him. Still keeping her eye on her husband through the window, she quickly picked up her cell phone and placed a call. “Auntie, did you see it?”

  “See what?”

  “There’s a wolf in our yard. It looked like he came from your direction.”

  “No,” she said sounding a bit panicked. “I’ll ask Max.” Within seconds, she returned to the phone and calmly reported, “He said he saw a dog earlier.”

  “Well, this looked more like a wolf than any dog I’ve seen. Oh, Auntie, I’m frightened.”

  “Where’s Michael?” Margaret asked. “Is he home?”

  “Yes, he’s out there with the wolf.”

  Savannah heard Margaret repeat this to Max and the next voice she heard in the earpiece was his. “Hi there, Savannah. You say you have a wolf in your yard?”

  “Yeah, Michael went out to get a closer look.”

  “Did you get a good look at the animal?”

  “Well, no, not really. Just a glimpse, actually, why?”

  “Is it kind of wooly, about the size of a…well, a wolf, I guess?”

  “Yes, did you see it, Max?” she asked, anxiously.

  “Yes, I saw it….”

  “Wait,” she said, still peering out through the kitchen window, “here comes Michael. Oh my gosh, he’s leading the….”

  “The what?” Max asked, chuckling.

  “Oh, I guess it’s a dog,” she said more calmly. “Yes, I’ve seen that dog before.”

  Max said, “So has Maggie. She saw her in the field along the highway. That’s Lucy. She belongs to the Fentons up the road. Lately, though, the dog seems to have the adventure bug. We see her all over the place. She’s harmless—a friendly dog.”

  “Well, they’d better keep her penned or she’s liable to get shot with everyone so jittery about wolves these days.” When Max remained silent, Savannah added, “That dog really looks like a wolf.”

  “That’s because she’s supposed to be related to a wolf. Well, all dogs are related to the wolf, but this one more closely. Al Fenton told me her sire was a wolf or part wolf.”

  “Wow!” Savannah said.

  Just then Michael stepped inside. “It’s the Fentons’ dog. I put her in the truck. I’ll be right back. Better take her home before old man Parsons sees her around here.”

  When Michael returned, he said, “She’s really a nice dog.”

  Grimacing, Savannah asked, “Did you tell Mr. Fenton how dangerous it is to let his dog run loose? Max said she’s actually part wolf.”

  Michael nodded. “Yeah, I gave him a lecture. Unfortunately, he’s one of those who believes a dog should be free-roaming, like his chickens.” Michael ran his hand through his straight dark-brown hair. “He said the dog can take care of herself—she’s been doing it since she was a pup. He says she doesn’t bother livestock and she could handle herself against a wolf, so he sees no danger.”

  “Did you tell him about Jack Parsons shooting his own dog?”

  Michael grimaced. “Tried to. He didn’t want to listen, so I left.”

  Just then Rags jumped down off the perch and walked up to Michael. He began sniffing his shoes and pant legs. “Do you smell Lucy?” Michael asked, petting the cat.

  Rags edged out from under Michael’s hand and sniffed his fingers.

  “I wonder what stories he’s getting from the scents you brought home,” Savannah said. “They say an animal learns a lot from sniffing another animal.”

  “Well, knowing Rags, he’s probably impressed and inspired by the life this ragamuffin dog leads—having the freedom to roam where she wants, when she wants, without restraints and restrictions.” He chuckled as they watched Rags step away, sit down, and stare off into space for a moment.

  Savannah laughed. “What are you dreaming of, Ragsie? Hooking up with Lucy and traveling the world?”

  “A wolf-dog and a klepto cat,” Michael said, laughing. “Now, they’d make quite the pair, wouldn’t they?”

  As Rags walked quietly out of the room, Savannah said, “Yes, wouldn’t they? I think he’s going to his bed to dream about it now.”

  Chapter 3

  Four days later, while the Iveys finished up the dinner dishes, Savannah said, “Can you believe it, Michael, in three short days we’ll be on our way to Hawaii?”

  “Where’s your mother?” he asked.

  “Reading Lily a bedtime story.”

  “Is Adam with them?”

  “Could be,” she said, “but I think he and Rags headed up to take inventory of Rags’s stash.”

  Michael laughed. “Those two—what one doesn’t think of the other one does.”

  “Add Lexie to the mix and you’ve got a real gang of conspirators there.” Savannah faced Michael. “Adam is such a great kid. I just love having him around, don’t you?”

  “Sure do,” Michael said, his voice cracking. “And to think I almost missed out on knowing my son. If my ex-wife hadn’t finally contacted me…”

  Savannah interrupted, “…on the eve of our wedding…”

  He nodded. “I try not to think about the time I missed with him—his first eight years…”

  Savannah gently rubbed Michael’s arm as he wiped a plate dry. “But we’ve sure enjoyed these last nearly three years with him, haven’t we?”

  “Yes. We have a lot of fun when he’s around.” He took a deep breath, put the plate away, and asked, while picking up another one to dry, “So are we packed?”

  “Yes, in my head.”

  “How does that work?” Adam asked as he entered the room, Rags tagging alongside him.

  Savannah turned to face the boy. “What?”

  “How do you pack in your head?”

  She tousled his hair. “By just thinking about what you want to pack. You imagine what you think you might want to pack. When it’s time to get out the suitcase, you have a pretty good idea of what you want to put in there.”

  “Oh,” Adam said. “I play basketball in my head.”

  “You do?” Michael asked, giving the boy his full attention.

  “Yes. I imagine the plays I want to make and practice them over and over in my head. Then during the games, I make them. Our coach taught us how to do visualization.” The boy frowned. “Only…”

  “Only what?” Michael asked. “Well, it only works when someone passes you the ball.”

  Savannah and Michael chuckled. She then asked Adam, “Hey, what did you guys find in Rags’s stash this time?”

  His eyes brightened. He dug into a pocket and pulled out his fist. Opening it, he revealed a variety of items. “I think he’s been…what do you call it...pilfering again.”

  Savannah and Michael moved closer as Adam continued to dig things out of his pockets and lay them on the kitchen table. He looked up at them. “I threw away the usual stuff.”

  “Usual stuff?” Michael asked.

  “Yeah, old tea bags, dried-up bread crust, Lexie’s chewed-up dog bones, empty envelopes...” He yanked something out of a back pocket. “Oh, here’s a letter you might need.”

  Savannah took it from him and let out a yelp. “So that’s where the gas bill went. I had to pay it over the phone.” She looked down at the cat, who was sitting at Adam’s
feet. “Rags, I wish you’d stop it.”

  Adam smiled up at her. “Have you been looking for this, too?”

  When she saw what he had in his hand, she grimaced. “Yes. It’s Lily’s slipper.”

  “He thought it was his toy, see? It has a little cat face on it. Looks like a stuffed toy, don’t you think? How do you expect him to know the difference?” he said in the cat’s defense.

  “What’s this?” Michael asked, picking up a pouch off the tabletop.

  “I think that’s a battery charger thing inside. My mom and other dad have one like it for their camera.”

  Just then Gladys walked into the room. “Savannah, have you seen my…” When she noticed what Michael held in his hand, she reached for it. “Oh, there it is. Where’d you find it?”

  Adam laughed. “Where did you leave it?” he asked. “…’cause Rags found it there.”

  She frowned at the cat. “In my overnight bag.” She then studied the other items laid out on the table, and asked, “What else did he take?”

  “My watch!” Savannah shouted, picking it up. “I’ve been looking everywhere for this.” She turned toward Rags, who was now standing on a chair, his paws on the table. “You little sneak.”

  “Dad says he’s a teacher,” the boy said, a serious look on his face.

  Savannah smirked at her husband. “Oh he does, does he? How so, dare I ask?”

  “He’s trying to teach us to put our things away.” He glanced at Savannah, then Michael. “I learned not to leave my Legos out. I found three of them in his stash basket.”

  “Well, I’d better go lock up my things,” Gladys said, turning to leave the room.

  Adam called after her, “And zip your purse, close the drawers…He’s pretty smart, you know.”

  “Who do you think this belongs to?” Michael asked, holding up a photograph. “Is it yours, hon?”

  “Let me see it,” she said, taking it from him. “No. Not mine.” She turned it over and looked at the back of it. “It’s old.”

  “Yeah, probably taken in the 1930s.”

  “Oh wait,” she said. “Auntie brought over some old pictures she found a while back. I’ll bet this is one of them.” She thinned her lips. “Rags,” she scolded.