Meow and Forever

by Patricia Fry

  Meow and Forever

  by Patricia Fry

  Meow and Forever: A Klepto Cat Mystery

  Book 40

  Author: Patricia Fry

  ISBN: ISBN: 978-1-7332772-7-3

  All rights reserved

  © 2019 Matilija Press

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter One

  “No!” Savannah shouted. “No! Let him go! Mom!” she called as she ran through the kitchen and out the side door. “Mom, call Craig! He took Rags!”

  “Who?” Gladys asked. “Where?”

  “I don’t know,” Savannah said over her shoulder. “Just get the detective out here.” She bounded down the porch steps, sprinted through their orchard, and entered the wooded area. Before she could catch sight of the alleged catnapper again, she slammed into someone and fell to the ground. “Ouch!” she complained, rubbing her elbow. “Karl,” she said when she recognized the man who held a hand out to her.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, helping her up. “What were you chasing?” He chuckled. “That cat of yours?”

  “Did you see him?” Savannah asked breathlessly. “You must have seen him. He ran in this direction.”

  “Who?” Karl asked.

  “I don’t know,” she wailed. “He took Rags. He snatched him in broad daylight. I can’t believe this has happened.”

  Karl looked in the direction he’d come from. “Your mother told me someone was threatening to take your cat, but she didn’t think anyone would actually do it. I mean, who would…why would…? There are free cats everywhere.”

  “So you didn’t see anyone?” Savannah asked. “Were you looking down at your phone or something?”

  “Well, I did check a text,” he admitted, “but certainly I would have noticed if someone passed me.”

  Savannah said more quietly, “Maybe he didn’t.” She glanced around. “Maybe he’s hiding out here somewhere. Hey, Karl,” she whispered, “would you stay put for a minute and watch for that guy? I want to see if our detective friend’s here yet.”

  “Sure,” he agreed. “Tell your mom I’m on my way over.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I mean, if I see her. Thanks, Karl. Now watch for him.”

  He nodded.

  Within minutes Savannah led Detective Craig Sledge through the orchard. “Where’s Karl?” she whispered. “I told him we’d be right back. Where’d he go?” She grasped Craig’s arm and hissed, “Did you hear that?”

  “What?” Craig asked, looking around.

  She pointed. “Over there.” She took a few steps and stopped. “Oh no! Karl!” she exclaimed when she saw him lying on the ground.

  “I’m okay,” he said, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck.

  “What happened?” she asked breathlessly. She glanced around. “Did you see him? Did he have Rags with him? Who is it?”

  Karl shook his head slowly. “I didn’t see anyone, but I guess he saw me.”

  “Which way did he go?” Craig asked. When Karl shrugged, Craig pointed. “Probably that way, toward the tract. Savannah, stay with Karl,” he instructed.

  She nodded and watched as the detective checked the ground for tracks, and walked swiftly toward the housing tract. When Karl started to get up she took hold of his arm.

  “I’m okay,” Karl assured her. “Come on, let’s hotfoot it to your place. I don’t think the detective wants us hanging around out here.” When she resisted, he said, “Come on now, Savannah. Your mother would never forgive me…”

  “Okay,” she grumbled. She looked him over. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  He nodded. “It could have been worse.”

  “So you didn’t see the man or Rags?” she prodded as they walked back toward her house.

  Karl was quick to say, “No.” Then he stopped. “Hey, there may have been a cat.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I heard one. Yeah, just before my lights went out, I heard what sounded like a cat meow real loud.”

  “Poor Rags,” Savannah said, slumping. She took a deep breath in an attempt to hold back a flood of tears as she recalled the events leading up to this awful moment.

  ****

  “What are you working on, hon?” Michael asked when he entered the kitchen one morning a week earlier. “Lines for another play?”

  Savannah shook her head and responded curtly, “No. No more plays, thank you very much.” She rested her chin in her palm. “That was kind of fun, though. I’m glad I agreed to help out with Arthur’s fundraiser, but it took a lot of time, and it was stressful. No,” she said, “I don’t think I’m cut out to be an actress.”

  Michael kissed her on the forehead. “Well, I think you and Rags did a fine job. You wowed the cat-loving community, anyway.” He asked again, “So what are you concentrating on?”

  “Two things,” Savannah said. “Teddy’s birthday party and a fundraiser.”

  Michael tousled Teddy’s hair as the toddler ate breakfast. “So our little man will soon be two.” He invited a fist bump, which Teddy returned, laughing.

  “He wants a fire truck for his birthday, Daddy,” four-year-old Lily chirped.

  “Another fire truck?” Michael repeated.

  Teddy smiled and nodded. He held his arms out, saying, “Big, Daddy. Big fire truck.”

  “The riding kind,” Lily explained. “He wants a riding fire truck, right, Teddy?” The toddler nodded enthusiastically.

  “Thanks for the memo,” Michael said, kissing Lily’s cheek. He squeezed Gladys’s shoulder. “And how are you this morning? Ready for another busy day in the house of horrors?”

  “Michael,” Savannah protested.

  “Oh,” he said, “how about the abode of awe?” He laughed. “I’ve got it, the casa of chaos.”

  Gladys sloughed off her son-in-law’s attempt at humor, saying, “Yes, I’m ready. I wake up every morning looking forward to another wonderful day with your family.” She patted his hand. “Bless you for allowing me the pleasure.”

  “Oh, Mom,” Savannah said, “I’m just glad the children aren’t wearing you out.”

  Gladys laughed. “I didn’t say they don’t wear me out, but I wouldn’t trade my life for anything.” She gazed at Michael, then Savannah. “I really do appreciate you two making it possible.”

  Savannah smiled. “I don’t know what we’d do without you, Mom. I think it’s been good for the kids having you here too.”

  Michael poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down across from Savannah. Before he could take a swig, they heard a knock at the door. “Good morning, Maggie,” he greeted when she pushed the door open and peered into the kitchen.

  “Hi, Auntie,” Savannah said. “Come in. Help yourself to the coffee.”

  “Thanks.” Margaret nodded at Michael, gave Gladys a hug, and briefly kissed each of the children, then announced, “I came to meet your new cat. Where is she?” Before anyone could respond, she added, “I can’t believe you dragged home another cat. Did Arthur twist your arm or something?”

  “Well, he did take us to a shelter that’s housing some of the cats still recovering from that hoarding situation,” Savannah said.

  Michael picked up the long-haired calico as she strolled past. “Yeah, we took one look at this beauty and…”

  Margaret interrupted, “Oh, isn’t she cute?” She took her from Michael and held her close. “She’s purring. Look at that little face. She’s adorable.” Margaret sat down and placed the cat on her lap. “Well, she doesn’t look like sh
e’s been abused or neglected. She’s perfect.” She snuggled with the cat again. “Purrrr-fect.”

  “Her name’s Glori,” Lily said.

  “Glori,” Margaret repeated. She looked into the cat’s eyes. “A pretty name for a pretty girl. Aren’t you just a sweet thing?”

  “She can’t hear you, Auntie,” Lily said.

  “What?” Margaret questioned. “She’s deaf?”

  “Yeah, but she can read lips,” Michael quipped.

  Margaret looked skeptical. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Maybe not,” Michael said. “Anyway, I think she has some hearing ability.”

  “Ooops,” Margaret yelped when Glori squirmed to get down. She lowered the cat to the floor and watched as she attacked a piece of toast crust Teddy had pushed off his high chair tray.

  Everyone laughed when the cat batted the toast toward Michael and started playing hide-and-seek with it around his feet. “Hi, Glori,” Michael crooned. He petted her and asked, “Are you the little fur ball that slept on my pillow last night?”

  Savannah chuckled. “One and the same.”

  He stared down at Glori, saying, “That was kind of brazen of you, wasn’t it? Your first night home and you try to steal my pillow.”

  Savannah ran her hand over the cat’s silky fur as she strolled past her chair. “She wasn’t trying to steal anything, except maybe a little love. She loves you.”

  Michael made eye contact with Glori. “Is that right?”

  “So, Michael, you think she reads lips?” Margaret asked.

  “No,” Savannah said. “He’s delusional.”

  “You don’t think she’s smart enough to read lips?” Michael asked.

  Savannah smirked playfully at him.

  After staring down at Glori for a few seconds, Lily said, “Her ears aren’t broken, Daddy.”

  Michael spoke more seriously. “Well, they look okay, but there’s something wrong inside her little ears, and Daddy’s going to see what we can do to fix that.”

  “You’re going to fix her ears?” Lily asked. “So she can hear us talking to her?”

  “Maybe,” Michael said.

  “What do you mean?” Savannah asked.

  “Yeah,” Margaret said, “I haven’t heard of anything they can do to reverse deafness in cats. Have you?”

  “Well, there are hearing aids…” he started.

  “What?” Margaret screeched. “Hearing aids for cats? Are you serious?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Michael said.

  “What cat’s going to leave a plastic doodad in her ear?” Margaret exclaimed. “She’ll feel it and dig it out so fast and probably chew it up.”

  “Yeah, there’s that,” Michael agreed, “but my thought is that maybe Glori’s hearing loss can be reversed, at least enough to keep her safe.”

  Lily scooted off her chair and moved closer to Margaret to share an important secret with her. “Teddy ran over her tail with his truck.”

  “Oh, that’s not good,” Margaret said, frowning. She took a deep breath. “Of course, a cat’s hearing is important as are all of her senses, but I didn’t know deafness could be cured.”

  “Sure,” Michael said, “if it’s not a genetic problem or nerve damage. She might have inflammation in there from an infection, a bad case of ear wax, polyps, or something else. Cats can develop serious ear problems from a foxtail. I once saw a cat with a foreign object tucked down into his ear. The toddler in that household wasn’t talking, but I believe he probably dropped the small puzzle piece down in there while Tiger-Kitty was sleeping.”

  “So will you do surgery on her?” Margaret asked.

  “That’s what I was wondering,” Savannah said.

  “First I’ll take her to see Dr. Butterfield over in Straley. She has a particular interest in special-needs animals, and she’s had success reversing hearing loss in cats. If there’s something we can do, don’t you think we should do it?”

  “Well, yes,” Savannah agreed. “I’m with Auntie though; it didn’t occur to me her hearing loss could be reversed.”

  Michael grinned. “And you call yourself a veterinarian.” He said more seriously, “There have been strides made in auditory issues in animals—especially cats—in recent years.” He glanced at the others. “Finally more research is being done with regard to cat health and behavior.”

  “It’s really something what they can do these days,” Margaret said, watching Glori make her rounds through the maze of legs under the kitchen table.

  Savannah nodded. “Yes. Auntie, you should have heard about some of the medical challenges and treatments they’re using for the cats rescued from that hoarder. Vivian, the gal at the shelter where we got Glori, told us all sorts of interesting stories. If I ever start practicing again, I’ll have to take a giant refresher course to catch up with all the breakthroughs in veterinary medicine.” She lifted Glori onto her lap and petted her. “So, Michael, you think there’s hope for her?”

  “Sure I do,” Michael insisted. “She’s not totally deaf, you know.”

  “Well, I wondered about that,” Margaret said. “She seems aware of the things around her. Can she actually hear, or is she sensing things—you know, feeling vibrations or something?”

  “That’s what I told the kids last night,” Gladys said. “The cat is too alert to be deaf.”

  “But, Daddy, Teddy ran over her tail with his truck,” Lily said. “She didn’t move ’cause she didn’t see him.”

  “Or maybe she didn’t hear him,” Michael said. “But I agree, Gladys; I think she’s somewhat aware, and I hope it’s because she has some ability to hear. Best-case scenario for this little girl is that we find a lingering infection in the ear canal that can be treated, or maybe polyps that can be removed. As I understand it, she had a pretty bad infection in her ears when they found her. They thought they got it cleared up. When it appeared she still had a problem, they put her on the long list of cats to see a specialist. We adopted her with a promise to follow through with that. I don’t know if you were aware of this, hon,” he said, “but I’m not sure Vivian would have released her to us if I hadn’t told her of my affiliation with Dr. Butterfield. She knows her reputation.”

  “And yours,” Savannah interjected. When he pretended to ignore her, she said, “Michael, I heard what she said about your—what was it—stunning eminence, or something like that.” When he appeared to be puzzled, she asked, “Didn’t you hear her say that? Oh, Michael, you’re so modest. You do good work, you’re reputable, and…”

  “How would Vivian know that?” he asked. “She runs a cat shelter in San Francisco.”

  “Probably from Arthur and…oh…oh, and your article in that veterinary-science magazine. It went viral all over the Internet last year,” Savannah reminded him.

  “You are famous, Michael,” Gladys said. “I remember reading about you in the Los Angeles Times a few years ago when I still lived down there.”

  “You did?” Michael asked.

  “Yes. You were quoted. I was impressed. I showed that article to all my friends.”

  Michael smiled at his mother-in-law.

  Savannah ruffled Glori’s fur. “There’s hope for you, sweetie,” she crooned. “Not that you aren’t purrfect just the way you are, pretty girl.” When Savannah saw Buffy peeking out from her canopy bed, she said, “And so are you, sweet Buffy—a pretty girl. We love you, too.”

  “Do you think she’s jealous of the new beauty in the house?” Gladys asked.

  Savannah frowned and finally said, “I don’t get that sense, but Glori’s only been here for one night. I guess time will tell. I sure hope not. I want all of the beings in this household—fur and human—to be happy and content.”

  Michael put his hand on Savannah’s. “Of course you do.”

  Just then Rags pawed a piece of bacon from Teddy’s fingers as he dangled it alongside his high chair. The toddler squealed.

  Lily covered her ears with both hands, shouting, “Stop
it, Teddy! You’re hurting my ears.”

  At the same time Lexie started barking at the cat and the landline phone rang.

  “I’m outta here,” Margaret said, quickly standing up. “Bye, all,” she called as she slipped out the door.

  “Bye, Maggie,” Gladys said. She stood up. “I’ll get the phone.”

  Savannah grimaced. “Glori, if you’re going to live in this household, maybe deafness is a blessing.” With a sigh she sprang from her chair, retrieved the bacon from Rags, gave Teddy a fresh piece, and took Lily on her lap to settle her down.

  Meanwhile Michael asked, “So when are these major events of the season taking place here?”

  Savannah tilted her head. “Huh?”

  “Teddy’s birthday party and the fundraiser,” he reminded her. “What’s that for, the Cat Alliance?”

  “Yes. Auntie’s all excited about helping to rehabilitate the cats they rescued from the hoarder. I guess she had a chance to talk to some of the shelter directors and veterinarians while we were in the city. When she got home Sunday she called the board members, and they want to do a fundraiser for the cats. It’s been a while since we’ve done one. Everyone voted to have it here.”

  “Nice of them,” Michael cranked. He asked, “So what sort of a deal is it—a carnival like we had last time?”

  “Probably not,” Savannah said. “Since our landscaping is so different now, the space isn’t actually conducive to something like that—you know, all those little booths with games. No, I guess they want to present animal-related programs—educational along with entertaining. I think Sir Roscoe has agreed to perform with his circus cats, Auntie will try to get people from one or two of the shelters in San Francisco to give presentations—maybe a demonstration.” She chuckled. “She said something about me talking about my books. I guess we could sell the meowmoirs and the children’s books and have the proceeds go to the cause.”

  “So will you use the wraparound porch as the stage?” he asked.

  “I don’t know what they have in mind. It’s still in the early planning phase, but I think I’ll suggest bringing in a stage and providing audience seating on the lawn out front. We can set up tables and chairs on the porch and out back among the new landscaping. People can visit and eat in the gazebo and those other outdoor rooms.”