Chihuahua Conspiracy

Chapter Six

We found Octo-Cat sitting on the corner of my bed and staring unhappily into the void. A flurry of striped hairs danced in the sunlight that filtered in through the nearby window. Just looking at the scene made me have to sneeze… and so I did.

“Why so loud?” my cat moaned in response to my achoo, turning toward me with a sneer on his scrunched face.

“Kitty friend!” Paisley cried as she charged toward the bed and took a giant leap upward. All that momentum wasn’t enough to propel her tiny body onto the mattress, however, and she rammed into the side of the bed head-first.

Matters also weren’t helped by Octo-Cat’s decision to take a clawed swipe at her. “Hey, you punk! Let’s get one thing straight. I am not your friend,” he growled and flexed his claws, ready to take a fresh shot at the poor, misguided pup.

“That’s enough, you two!” Nan hurried across the room and grabbed an animal with each arm. “Let’s play nice here. After all, we’re a family.”

Paisley strained to reach Octo-Cat across the short distance, barking happily as she cried, “Brother, brother, brother!”

Octo-Cat mewled demonically, twisting furiously until he at last wriggled free of Nan’s embrace.

As for me? I laughed and laughed hard.

Which only made my cat that much more livid with the lot of us. “Why are you bothering me?” he whined. “Go away.”

“We were wondering if you knew anything about what happened in the kitchen.” I studied him carefully for any glint of recognition.

If Octo-Cat knew anything, though, he didn’t give it away. His face remained an unreadable mask—well, at least behind the thick layer of disdain. “What happened in the kitchen?” he asked with a yawn that smelled like two parts Fancy Feast and one part cat butt.

Oh, boy.

Maybe he actually didn’t know. Maybe I was about to break his poor, aggrieved heart all over again. I thought back to the first time one of Ethel’s heirloom teacups had broken, remembering his utter despair and the touching funeral that had followed.

“Are you going to tell him about the broken teacup, or should I?” Nan asked me with one raised eyebrow.

So much for putting things delicately.

“What broken teacup?” the tabby asked after a sharp gasp, struggling to speak each word with his crackly, suddenly oxygen-starved voice.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and I really did mean it. “It was one of Ethel’s. We were all in the living room, when—”

“Enough!” he shouted, turning on me so quickly, I took a reflexive step backward. “It was the dog, and you know it!”

I shook my head, unable to tear my eyes away from the enraged feline. “We thought that at first, but she can’t reach the counters.”

Paisley yelped. “I’m sorry about your teacup, brother!”

“You know, she’s not that much bigger than a rat. It wouldn’t be so hard to snap her neck,” Octo-Cat said through gritted teeth.

“That’s a very bad cat!” I yelled. “How dare you say that about your new sister?”

“She is not my family, and she never will be. Get her out of here if you know what’s good for her… or for you.”

Paisley let out an ear-piercing chain of shrieks and wouldn’t stop.

“There, there, dear one,” Nan sang softly while I glared at my cruel cat companion. It was one thing to be upset, but quite another to threaten such violence.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he rasped with a weighty flick of his dark tail. “You’re the one who’s forcing my paw, and can’t you see I’m grieving my poor, sweet teacup here?”

Nobody said anything as we all stood around my tower bedroom awkwardly. Paisley at least stopped crying, though.

“Get out of here! Go! Leave me in peace!” the distraught tabby shouted at last.

I knew he was upset, but I still couldn’t believe how quickly he’d gone from simply irritated to threatening murder. It was moments like this that made me question whether my life was really better with him in it. Of course, I knew it was silly and that hunting was part of a cat’s nature, but still… How could he be so cold-blooded about it all?

“Fine. We’re going,” I mumbled, then led Nan and Paisley from the room. “Next time we see you, I hope you’ll be a bit more welcoming.”

“Well, that didn’t exactly go as planned,” Nan whispered in my ear once we’d shut the door firmly behind our small party.

“No, it really didn’t.”

We trod down the stairs side by side.

Nan carried Paisley in her arms, not unlike a little baby. “What now?” she asked.

“It looks like we’ll be adding to our teacup cemetery in the backyard. Other than that, I don’t know. We both know he can hold a grudge for a long time, and we also know that Paisley isn’t going anywhere. I guess the only thing we can really do is wait the situation out. And maybe keep a close eye on Paisley while we do.” I hadn’t repeated Octo-Cat’s murmured threats to Nan, and I didn’t plan to, either.

Nan hummed to herself now as she thought about what we might do next. After a few moments, her face lit up and she said, “That may be the only thing we can do about this particular problem, but there’s more than one way to… Oh, dear, that is a terrible expression, especially in light of current events. What I mean is there’s more than one problem that needs solving.”

“The shelter?” I asked, my voice cracking on the first syllable of that second word.

My grandmother nodded. “You mentioned how much they’re in dire need, and I just so happen to have some extra money left over from selling the old house to Charles. Perhaps it’s time I made a donation of my own.”

She was right. Donating had made me feel so much better earlier that day, and at least the shelter wanted to be helped, unlike Octo-Cat. “Hmm. How late do they stay open? It’s almost dinner time now.”

This didn’t stop Nan, however. “I’ll run down now and give it a try,” she said. “If they’re already closed for the day, I’ll head over again first thing in the morning.”

I stopped walking and put an arm on Nan’s shoulder before she could head down the grand staircase to the main floor. “Oh, no you don’t! There’s no way I’m letting you go on your own. Remember what happened last time you visited the animal shelter unsupervised?”

“Of course I do,” Nan said with an impish grin, lifting Paisley in her arms and giving the little dog a kiss on her nose. “But was it really so bad? I mean, look at this sweet girl!”

“Depends on who you ask,” I said, then motioned back toward my room with a beleaguered sigh.

“Be right back,” Nan informed me as she turned away from the staircase and shot down the hall to her bedroom. “I need a quick change of costume.”

When Nan joined me downstairs a few minutes later, she was wearing a hot pink T-shirt that read Dog Mom across the chest. Both Os had been fashioned to look like paw prints.

“When did you have time to get that?” I asked with a chuckle.

“Overnight shipping, dear,” was her reply as she rummaged about in the coat closet and extracted a matching pink leash for Paisley along with a…

“A spiked collar? For your five-pound Chihuahua? Really?” Now I was laughing in earnest. Just because I was never surprised by my grandmother’s antics didn’t mean they weren’t hilarious.

Nan lowered herself to the floor and patted her lap. “Well, why not?” she mumbled while she worked on sizing the collar appropriately for Paisley’s thin neck. “For all we know, the heart of a warrior beats within this tiny body.”

I blew a raspberry. “Um, I can talk to her. Remember?”

“I’m a warrior!” the dog exclaimed enthusiastically, lapping up all the attention. “I’m a big, brave dog!”

I just shook my head. These two were clearly perfect for each other, and I was so, so happy for them.