Chihuahua Conspiracy

Chapter Sixteen

Nan beat me and Paisley home, which was probably a good thing considering what we found when we got there.

“There’s poop everywhere!” I cried with a disgusted groan.

“You should have seen this place before I started cleaning up.” Nan squirted another shot of all-natural cleaner on the rug and gave the smelly stain a good, solid scrub.

“This is gross.” I crossed my arms and surveyed the damage with a frown. “Do you even think it will come all the way out of the area rug? This was original with the house.”

Nan paused and studied me with a furrowed brow. “What worries me more is that one of the animals has to be very sick to make such a huge mess.”

Paisley kneaded her front paws against my leg and begged for me to pick her up. “It wasn’t me,” she said in a soft, sad voice. “Honest.”

“It couldn’t have been Paisley,” I relayed to Nan, setting the dog back down and then slipping on a pair of thick yellow rubber gloves to help clean up the mess. “She was with me the whole time you were out, and this mess wasn’t here when we left for our walk earlier.”

“Even still.” Nan moved to another spot on the carpet and scrubbed vigorously. “We should take both of them to the vet. Maybe she’ll have some tips on helping them adjust to their new living arrangements.”

“But Paisley isn’t the problem,” I reminded her. “Octo-Cat is just being stubborn.”

“Well, we have to do something.” Nan frowned at the spot and sprayed some more cleaner. “What if Octavius isn’t just being mean for meanness’s sake? What if he’s seriously ill?”

That thought hadn’t occurred to me before, but now that Nan had mentioned the possibility, it was all I could think about. As much as Octo-Cat had irritated me the last few days, he was still my best friend and I couldn’t picture life without him.

“I grabbed a doodie sample before I started cleaning up, so the doc will have that to test. I’ve already called and let her know we’ll be coming in shortly.”

“Then let’s go,” I said, peeling my gloves off, then picking my purse back up from the coffee table. “We can clean the rest of this up after.”

Nan followed suit. “I’ll wash up real quick, then grab the sample and get Paisley and myself settled in your car. You go on upstairs and get Octavius.”

Right.

My cat didn’t like car rides under the best of circumstances, but now that he was sick and expected to take today’s ride with his sworn nemesis, it would be downright impossible to convince him to come willingly.

I briefly considered my options as I jogged upstairs to collect him. I could try asking nicely, but that would alert him to my intentions and ultimately make catching him so much harder after he refused to come peacefully. I could also try forcing him into his walking harness, but I knew well enough from experience that this was more of a two-person job. That left only one option, and it was the one I knew he would hate most of all: the cat carrier.

I hadn’t ever used it before, but the very fact I kept it in the house for emergencies was a constant source of discontent for Octo-Cat.

Well, at least we’d finally have the chance to make use of the thing.

I grabbed the greatly despised carrier from storage and blew off the thin coat of dust that had settled on top of its plastic shell. Climbing the stairs to my tower just as quietly as I could, I let myself into the bedroom while attempting to hide the bulky carrier behind me.

It didn’t work.

“I see you,” my cat hissed from beneath the bed. “And whatever you want from me, the answer is an emphatic no.”

“I’m sorry about this,” I answered, pulling my bedframe away from the wall with a series of grunts and tugs. “But I can’t let you waste away in here any longer, especially seeing as you’re sick.”

Octo-Cat moved with the bed, remaining dead center, which made him incredibly difficult to reach. Even when I dropped to my belly and extended my arms at full length, my fingertips just barely brushed the tip of his tail.

“I’m not going, and you can’t make me.”

Ugh. Why did he have to be so difficult?

I didn’t want to manhandle him given his upset belly, but bribing him to come out wasn’t exactly a possibility either. Some things about our relationship were easier because of our ability to talk to each other, while others were infinitely more difficult. This was one of those infinitely more difficult things.

Think, Angie. Think!

And then I had an idea that I was about ninety percent certain would work. I moved to my desk and grabbed the small keychain I kept in my top drawer in case of an emergency, then I gathered my comforter from the bed and bundled it up in my arms. Holding tight to the wad of blanket with one hand, I used the other to activate the keychain light.

And the red dot came to life on the carpet before me.

One of our past acquaintances had used the power of the red dot to trick two unwitting cats into doing something very bad. At the time, Octo-Cat had explained to me that while most cats logically knew the dot was just a result of a laser pointer, they also couldn’t resist pouncing whenever that little sucker made an appearance.

That’s precisely what I was counting on now.

The dot danced when I wiggled my hand—and when I flicked my wrist, it jerked wildly to the side.

This sent Octo-Cat shooting out from beneath the bed at lightning speed.

Thankfully, I was just fast enough to toss the blanket on top of him as an impromptu net, and—gotcha!

He was captured and spitting mad about it, too. “I will never forget this betrayal, Angela. Never. Not in all my lives.”

“I’m sorry,” I muttered again, picking up the blanket with him in it and then releasing him into the plastic carrier.

There.

I’d done it, and by some miracle neither of us had managed to get hurt in the process.

“Don’t worry,” I cooed softly even though my breathing was now labored from this whole debacle. “We’re going to get you all patched up at the vet. You’ll be feeling like yourself in no time at all.”

“But I’m not sick,” he argued before coughing up a hairball right inside the carrier.