Chihuahua Conspiracy

Chapter Three

When I returned to my room with grilled shrimp and Evian for both Octo-Cat and myself, I found him sitting on my pillow flicking his tail pensively.

The moment he saw me, he popped to his feet and began to pace the length of the mattress. “Well, did you talk some sense into Nan about the unappreciated monstrosity she has wrought on our house? On my house?” He didn’t even look at me as he spat each word. If he had, I’m sure my face would have given away everything he needed to know.

“Umm, a little,” I hedged, trying hard not to sigh yet again. “Mostly I talked to Paisley, though, and she is really happy to be here.”

Octo-Cat stopped pacing and stared at me with open disdain. “And I’d be really happy for her to not be here.”

I let out a groan and sunk down onto the bed beside him. “I know change is hard, but—”

The tabby diva lifted a paw and shook his head. “I’ll stop you right there. If you’re not for me, then you’re against me. And thus…” He paused and sighed heavily. “I bid you good night, Angela.”

I watched helplessly as he hopped off the bed and crawled back beneath it. “Hey, I didn’t ask for any of this, either,” I called after him.

But Octo-Cat refused to respond.

“We can’t just send her back. From what Paisley told me, the shelter is already pretty overcrowded, and that’s not a very nice way for her to have to live, especially when there’s a family who wants her. Our family.”

He still said nothing to acknowledge me or my arguments.

“You can’t just ignore me,” I huffed, throwing myself back onto the bed in resignation. “How are we supposed to solve our cases if we’re not talking to each other?” I asked while studying a smudge on the ceiling.

Octo-Cat didn’t answer, which was probably for the best regarding this last point. The truth was even though we’d opened Pet Whisperer P.I. for business more than one week ago, we still had yet to book our first case.

If I could do it all over again, I might have rejected the kooky name that Mom and Nan had saddled us with. Around Blueberry Bay, calling yourself a pet whisperer pretty much guaranteed that folks thought you were crazy—or worse, a fraud.

And I was neither, thank you very much.

Maybe if I started a website or took out an ad, business would pick up a bit. My boyfriend Charles had already offered to refer business from the firm our way when he or one of the associates needed extra help. I’d originally rejected his offer, preferring to either succeed or fail totally on my own. Now, however, I was starting to wonder if I was being too stupid, too proud. If I could help people, do what I loved, and get paid for it, then who cared how I came about my clients?

“Can we please talk about this?” I begged my still fuming cat.

“You already know where I stand on the matter. When you decide to join me, then I’ll decide to talk to you,” Octo-Cat mumbled in that horrible patronizing tone I loathed.

“Fine, then you can spend our petaversary alone.” Even though I knew he wasn’t going to answer me, I still stormed off and slammed the door.

Of course, I hated to leave my kitty companion like that, but being together at that moment was, unfortunately, creating more problems than it was solving. Maybe with a good night’s sleep, we’d be able to start this conversation fresh in the morning.

Maybe.

But until then, I just couldn’t take any more fighting.

And so I set his food and water on the floor, went to retrieve his litter box, and then moved my bedding to one of the spare bedrooms so we could both have a bit of time to cool off. Once I’d settled in, I shot Charles a quick text to let him know not to come over that night and went to bed several hours earlier than I’d planned.

Happy Petaversary to me!

The next morning, I woke up feeling refreshed and much less irritated than I’d been the night before. The moment I left my temporary quarters, Paisley raced over to lick my ankles and tell me about the great adventures she’d had touring the estate with Nan.

“There are so many great places to pee! So many!” she gushed as I reached down to scratch her between her adorable oversized ears. “I love it here! It’s like a paradise for dogs! I can’t believe I get to live here now! I love my new life! I love you!”

I chuckled to myself while she zoomed off again. She ran in such fast, tight circles that soon she was almost completely out of breath from the exertion of it all. When Paisley slowed down and approached me again, her tongue lolled from the side of her mouth and she panted heavily, smiling up at me with unmistakable affection.

“I’m glad you like it here,” I told her. “Nan and I will do everything we can to make sure you love everything about your new life. Hey, by the way, do you still want to go to the shelter with me for a quick visit today?”

“Oh, boy. Oh, boy! Oh, yes! Yes, please!” the little dog trilled, running another manic lap before returning to me once more.

I laughed again, something I could tell I’d be doing lots of now that Paisley was a part of my world. “I don’t think they’re open yet, but let me check their hours online and find out when they do.”

Paisley followed me up the stairs and toward my bedroom—the bedroom where I just happened to know that one very crabby tabby would still be sitting by his lonesome and bemoaning his bad luck.

I stopped so abruptly that the eager Chihuahua bumped into my lower leg. “Um, I’m sorry, but Octo-Cat is going to be upset if you come in with me. Would you mind waiting outside for me? I promise to come back very soon.”

The little tricolor dog plopped her butt down on the top stair and wagged her tail furiously. “I will be a good girl and wait, because that’s what you said to do!”

Well, that was an entirely different response than I ever would have received from Octo-Cat. Oh, a pet owner could most assuredly get used to this. I wiped my face of the smile that had just spread from cheek to wicked cheek and quietly let myself into my cat’s self-imposed prison.

“Octavius?” I called out, using his preferred name in the hopes it might earn me some sorely needed brownie points. “Are you in here?”

“Of course I’m in here, Angela,” he growled from beneath the bed. “But I also smell that the dog is out there.”

“Oh, Paisley? She’s not coming in. I—”

Just then, the door burst open and an exuberant Paisley bounded through the door and rushed straight under the bed. “I heard you call my name. I’m a good girl. I’m coming to you!” she called as she shot past me in her renewed pursuit of her new cat roommate.

“Betrayal!” Octo-Cat cried, shooting past me and bolting down the stairs in a whirlwind of fluff and attitude. “Betrayal of the highest order!”

Even from all the way up here, I heard his electronic cat flap beep and pull open from the foyer.

Paisley at least hadn’t given chase. Instead, she stood proudly at my heels, beating a steady drum with her small black tail against the floorboards. “Did I do good, Mommy?” she asked.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her no. “You did good,” I hedged. “But next time, wait until I say come. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Mommy. I surely can do that! You’re my best friend, and I love you!” With this said, she began licking my toes and didn’t stop for at least three whole minutes.

Okay, fine. So maybe I was starting to find her enthusiasm a little annoying…