A Whisker of Truth

by Patricia Fry

  “Wow!” Rex said, finally catching up with the others. He leaned with both hands on his cane. “What happened there?” he asked breathlessly. “It looked like the cat taught that dog a lesson he won’t soon forget.”

  “Yes, I believe he did,” Savannah said, picking up Rags’s leash. Once they knew the dog wasn’t going to return and that Rags was okay, Savannah and Rex focused on the bird. “He’s caught in a wad of kite string,” Savannah said. “Poor bird. He wouldn’t have had a chance against that dog.”

  “Yeah, that’s Matilda,” Rex said. “Her foot’s caught. Here, let me hold her; see if you can get that off her. Your eyes are probably better than mine and your fingers more nimble.”

  “This is Matilda?” Savannah asked, while working to remove the string from around her feet.

  “Yeah, Matilda, this is Savannah and Rags.”

  Just then they heard, “Hello, pussycat. Hello.”

  “Hi, Clayton,” Rex said, looking up at the bird, who sat on a low branch in a nearby tree. “We’re taking good care of her. She’ll be just fine,” he looked at Rags, “thanks to your new pussycat friend.”

  Once Savannah had removed the string, Rex looked the parrot in the face and said, “There you are, Matilda. All better.”

  The bird tilted her head toward the cat and squawked.

  Rex chuckled. “I think that’s a thank you, Rags.” He ran one hand over the cat’s fur, then let the bird go. Rags joined the humans in watching as Matilda flew to where Clayton waited on a branch above.

  “They seem happy to see each other,” Savannah said. “Just listen to them chatter. Sounds like happy chatter, don’t you think so, Rags?”

  “I’m sure it is,” Rex said, smiling. “I’m sure it is.” He took a deep breath. “Well, I’d better finish my walk and get home to…”

  “Your menagerie?” Savannah said.

  He nodded, then tipped his hat. “Very nice to have met you, Savannah and Rags. I wish for you safe travels and happy times wherever your journey takes you.”

  Savannah bowed slightly. “Well, thank you, Rex, and the same to you.” She offered her hand. “It’s been a pleasure.”

  Rex shook her hand, then leaned over to pet Rags one more time.

  “Hey, is it okay if I take a picture of you?” Savannah asked.

  “Yeah, I guess,” he agreed, “if you don’t think this mug will break your camera.”

  She lifted Rags and handed him to Rex. “Here, can you hold him? This would be a nice shot for his scrapbook.”

  “Do young people still keep scrapbooks?” he asked. “I thought that went by the wayside along with the phone book, the typewriter, and twenty-five-cents-a-gallon gasoline.”

  Savannah laughed. She glanced up at the tree where she’d last seen the birds, and said, “Hey, let’s try to get Clayton and Matilda in the shot.” She gestured. “Move over just a little, Rex.” She studied the frame and said, “Perfect,” as she snapped a few pictures.

  “Can I have one of those?” Rex asked. “Do you suppose you can send me one?”

  “Sure,” she said. “Do you have email?”

  Disgustedly, he shook his head. “Nope. Just a mailbox—you know, made of metal out in front of the house.”

  Savannah chuckled. “What’s your address? I’ll send you a copy when I get home.”

  Rex’s eyes lit up. “You will? Well, how about that. In the regular mail? That would be grand. I’d love to show it to my neighbors and the guys down at the donut shop.” He watched her for a moment. “Aren’t you going to write it down? You can’t remember a whole address, can you?”

  “No,” Savannah said, laughing. “I’m going to put it in my phone.”

  “Oh.” He shook his head, spewing, “Technology—I wonder what it’s doing to our brains. I really do.”

  ◆◆◆

  “Wasn’t that a nice break?” Savannah said to Rags minutes later while lifting him into his new car seat. “Nice man. Cute birdies, too.”

  As if he understood and agreed, Rags let out a cheery prrrrrt.

  Savannah closed the passenger side door and walked around the car. When she started to get into the driver’s seat, she felt something brush against her shoulder. Startled, she looked up just in time to see a small green parrot land on the backseat. “Oh my gosh! Clayton, is that you?” She studied the bird. “Or are you Matilda? What are you doing?” She glanced around outside, hoping to see someone who could explain this unusual bird behavior and help her decide what to do about it.

  Meanwhile Rags leaped over the front seat and joined the parrot, sniffing him a little roughly. The bird toppled over a couple of times. When the parrot spread his wings to catch his balance, Rags sat down and watched.

  “Hello, pussycat,” the bird chirped.

  “It is you, Clayton,” Savannah said. She wondered, Is he trying to hitch a ride with us? “Listen, Clayton, you don’t want to leave your bird friends and your freedom in this beautiful park, do you?” Gads, I wish I knew what to do. I really don’t like the idea of these little birds being tossed out into the elements, but…When she saw a man exiting a car with a dog on a leash, she called out to him, “Excuse me. Do you live around here?”

  He hesitated, then said, “Yeah.”

  “Well,” she stalled, “um…one of those parrots seems to want to go with me.”

  “What?” the man asked, “A parrot?”

  Savannah explained, “My cat kind of made friends with one of those wild parrots and he flew into my car and I don’t know what to do with him.”

  The man peered through Savannah’s car window. When he saw Rags sitting on the backseat with a small parrot, he began to laugh. “Is it Clayton? He does seem partial to cats. I’ve heard that he’ll sit on a backyard fence or in a tree for hours where cats live.” He moved closer to Savannah and said through the open car door, “Hi, Clayton. You’ve made a new friend, have you?”

  “I don’t know what to do. Should I take him out and make him stay here or would it be better to let him go with me? I’m sure I can find him a good home. In fact, I might want to keep him, but would he be happy living in captivity? I sure wouldn’t want to turn him loose in unfamiliar territory.”

  The man rubbed his chin. He spoke more quietly, “I’ve heard that kids like to torment the parrots. They use them for target practice with their damn rubber-band guns and slingshots. Pesticides are a hazard for them, as they are for all of our birds, not to mention cats.” He gazed at Rags and backtracked. “Well, most cats.” He thought for a moment. “I actually know someone who took a couple of these parrots in and they’ve made great pets. They’re a little rowdy at times, but they can liven up a place.”

  Savannah looked at Rags and murmured, “Yeah, that’s what I need—a livelier home.”

  The man gazed into the car again and grinned at the interaction between the cat and the bird. “Looks like those two have made a connection. So are you going to take him with you?”

  She appeared bewildered. “Gads, that wasn’t in my plans. I’m on my way to San Francisco for a book fair.”

  He nodded toward Rags. “With a cat?”

  “Yeah, I write about him.”

  “Oh, I get it,” the man said. “He helps sell the books.”

  She nodded and continued to ponder the question of what to do with the little bird. She looked out over the park again.

  “Can’t decide, huh?” the man asked.

  She shook her head, then said, “Well, the thing is, he has a little friend out here. We just rescued her from a dog. She was helpless—had kite string tangled around her legs. She seems to be kind of attached to Clayton.”

  “That’s Matilda,” the man said.

  Savannah tilted her head. “I’m amazed that these birds are so well known in the neighborhood. So they’re like a pair—are they a couple?”

  “Yeah, those two are pretty inseparable. Where he is you usually see her—maybe not as in-your-face as this guy, but she’ll be nearby.” He lo
oked around, whistled, then listened. He pointed. “Yeah, there she is. See her on that second branch to the right?”

  “Oh, yes.” She addressed the bird, “Matilda, do you want to go with your friend in the car? I’ll buy you a pretty cage where you can be together. Would you like that, Matilda?” Savannah shook her head. “My husband is going to explode when he…”

  The man laughed. He suggested, “Walk closer and hold out your hand to her. She’ll either come to you or she won’t. If she doesn’t, she’ll be fine. She has friends out here.” When he sensed Savannah’s apprehension, he added, “Really, she’ll be fine either way.” He nodded toward Clayton, who now sat on the back of the seat, watching Rags. “And so will he.”

  Savannah walked closer to the tree and held out her hand. She made some birdlike sounds with her lips. “Come on, Matilda. Want to go bye-bye with your friend?” Within moments, the little parrot flew to her and landed on her finger. “Wow,” she whispered, wide-eyed.

  The man smiled. “There’s your answer.” He waved and walked away with his dog. “Good luck.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” she said hesitantly. “Hey, would you spread the word that Clayton and Matilda are safe with me? My husband and I are veterinarians and are dedicated to our animals.”

  “Cool. Yes, I will. Thank you.”

  “Well, is everyone buckled in and ready to travel?” she asked, shaking her head in wonderment. As Michael would say, lordy-lordy, what have I done now? She laughed and said to the birds, “Hey, you’d make a lovely housewarming gift.”

  Chapter Two

  “I brought you something,” Savannah said, once she’d exchanged warm greetings with Peter and Rochelle. She smiled. “A housewarming gift.”

  “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” Rochelle said, “but what a sweet gesture. Come in, let’s get you and Rags settled.” She shivered with delight. “I’m eager to show you your room. I think you’ll love it. I had so much fun getting it ready for you.”

  “Oh, Rochelle, I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble—it’s just me and Rags.”

  “Didn’t you hear me? I had fun doing it. You don’t want to deny me that pleasure, do you?”

  “Certainly not,” Savannah said, shrinking back a little. “Sorry for sounding ungrateful. I can’t wait to see it.”

  “Well come on,” Rochelle invited, ushering Savannah down a hallway and into the third bedroom.

  “It’s gorgeous, Rochelle!” Savannah gushed. “I love the colors, and the antique furniture—wow! You’ve picked out some great pieces. They’re perfect for this room.” She turned around to take it all in. “Excellent job. I didn’t know you had such decorating skills.”

  Rochelle beamed. “So glad you like it. Some of the pieces are family heirlooms. I got ideas from the Internet and one of my friends who has a knack for interior design.”

  Savannah smiled, then pointed. “Where did you find that picture?”

  Rochelle nodded toward Peter, who had just walked in with Savannah’s suitcase. “It’s one of his.”

  “It is?” Savannah asked, moving closer. “It looks like an old-fashioned…”

  “It’s a new technique he’s been using.”

  “Like it?” Peter asked, joining her.

  “Very much,” Savannah said. “It’s gorgeous. Well, the whole room is just exquisite. I may want to lounge around in here all weekend.”

  “Nope,” Rochelle said. “You have things to do and places to go. We’ll be busy.”

  “I know, but I hope not too busy for us to catch up with each other.” Savannah looked down at Rags, who was still on his leash. “Hey, let me get his pen and litter box and all. I like to put him in there for a while before turning him loose in an unfamiliar home.” She looked at Peter and Rochelle. “If that’s allowed.”

  “Of course,” Rochelle said. “He seems comfortable here. He was sure curious when you took him for a walk out through the gardens a few minutes ago.”

  “Yeah, he likes to snoop, and we both need a walk after a long drive.”

  “Did you drive straight through?” Peter asked.

  “Uh…no. We actually had quite a little stopover, which leads me to your…um…housewarming gift. Let me go get them.”

  “Can I help you?” Peter asked.

  “Sure, come on. We can get Rags’s pen at the same time.”

  “A bird cage?” he asked when Savannah opened the back door of the SUV.

  “Complete with birds,” she said. “Bring them in and I’ll tell you the story.” She put a hand on his arm. “And Peter, honestly, you absolutely do not have to accept them. I’m giving them to you as kind of a joke, but if you want them, they’re yours. If not, I totally understand and I’ll take them home.”

  Peter peered into the cage as he eased it out of the car. “Hmmm, birds.” He then said, “As a matter of fact, I’ve been putting birds in my paintings, lately. I even have a few smaller pieces featuring birds—you know, close up. I find them fascinating, actually.”

  After thinking for a moment, he said, “It’s since we moved from the city to out here where there are trees. We see and hear all kinds of birds. I think that’s what got me interested in painting them.” He faced her. “Savannah, do you know how many different types of birds there are?”

  “Not really, but yeah, there are a lot.” She laughed. “You never noticed birds before?”

  He shook his head. “Just pigeons and seagulls, and they’re annoying and messy. I guess a lot of people are into birds. My bird prints are selling pretty well. The originals, too. Who knew there was a market for bird art?”

  Savannah laughed and mocked, “Yeah, who knew? Have you been to a home accessories store lately or a gift shop? Birds rule—well, birds and cats.”

  “Hmmm,” he said. “Good to know. It’s always nice to be in on the ground floor of a trend.”

  She laughed again. “Well, I wouldn’t call it the ground floor, but birds are trending, that’s for sure.”

  “So where did you get these?” Peter asked, peering into the cage as he and Savannah walked toward the front door.

  “Bring them in. I want to tell the story to both of you together.”

  ◆◆◆

  “So these little green guys followed Rags home?” Peter asked, chuckling, after hearing Savannah’s explanation for bringing birds to them.

  “Yeah, kinda,” Savannah said. “And I have to say they seem happy. It appears that the cage I bought for them hasn’t spoiled their spirit.”

  “Wait,” Rochelle said. “So you stopped someplace and bought this cage?”

  “Yeah, and some parrot food and those toys.”

  “Holy moley,” Rochelle remarked. “What did you do with them when you were in the pet store?”

  “Left them in the car,” Savannah said, matter-of-factly.

  “By themselves—I mean, together?” Rochelle exclaimed. “A cat and two bite-size birds?”

  Savannah nodded. “Yeah, I thought about taking Rags in with me, but I figured I’d get in and out of there faster without him. I lucked out and found a parking space just outside the front door and got a clerk to help me find everything.”

  She grimaced. “I did ask another clerk to watch for any unusual activity in my car. She was so intrigued by my story that she and one of the customers actually went out and watched the critters through the car windows while I shopped.” She smiled. “When I came out the birds were hopping back and forth along the back of the seat squawking happily, and Rags was sitting in his car seat enjoying the show.”

  Peter shook his head. “Amazing.” He asked, “So will they stay in that cage all the time? Do they like it that much?”

  “Probably not,” Savannah said. “I’d like to see them in a larger space—an aviary, maybe outside or in a sunny room.”

  Peter and Rochelle glanced at each other.

  “Listen, guys,” Savannah said, “truly, I don’t expect you to keep them unless you really want to. Honestly, I plan to take them
home, but if you’d like to have them, they’re yours—with my blessings, by the way.”

  The Whitcombs looked at each other again and Rochelle said, “Let us consider it. I love birds, and these two seem charming, but whether we can manage their care with our schedule…we’ll have to think seriously about that.”

  “Okay. I’m eager to see how things go with them over the weekend. I can’t imagine they’ll be much trouble.” She glanced around. “Where do you want them?”