Guardian Cats and the Lost Books of Alexandria

Chapter 30: Wild disregard for order

For security reasons, Cicero moved the Dead Cats meetings from the Café parking lot to a room inside the library—a storage area where the window was permanently stuck open. Not that any librarian could even see the window, let alone get to it.

The room was crammed so full there was no pathway left for people. Wooden card catalogs took up half the space. A large bust of Mark Twain kept company with an ancient manual typewriter on an overstuffed chair. Piles of cardboard boxes, books and magazines looked as though they’d given up their struggle for organization and succumbed to the gravity of neglect.

Cicero thought it was perfect. The room had the right balance of coziness and wild disregard for order.

Already most of the cats had found something of interest. Gypsy browsed through Mothering Magazine while her kittens pounced over her. Skitzo was reading an article in the Daily Observer titled “Missing Baby Found Inside Watermelon!” Caffeina looked bored as she flipped the pages of Cat Diva.

Heads raised as Marco climbed into the room through the narrow window opening, his ear and nose torn, dried blood on his tail.

Caffeina was the first to jump up. “Mee-oow! Marco, what happened to you?”

Tweezer asked, “Who won?”

Marco held his head and tail high, battle scars and all. “I did pretty well, considering,” he said proudly.

“Considering….?”

“Considering the face-off Polo and I had with the raccoons.”

”Raccoons!”

“Who did you say you were with?” asked Skitzo.

“My friend, Polo.”

Tweezer came closer and examined Marco’s injuries. “Did you leave your mark on them?” he asked.

“They won’t soon forget me,” said Marco.

“Who’s Polo?” Skitzo insisted, peering suspiciously at Marco.

“He’s a friend.”

“Do we know him?”

“Not exactly,” answered Marco.

Skitzo circle Marco, inspecting him like an interrogator. “Why doesn’t he come to meetings?”

“I thought it was just for cats.”

“What? He’s not a cat?” asked Skitzo, appalled.

“Well… no,” Marco said. “Polo’s a… well, he’s a ferret.”

Dead silence.

“A what?” asked Sophie, who was never afraid to admit when she didn’t know something.

“A ferret.”

“You have a friend who’s not a cat?” challenged Skitzo.

“You’re repeating yourself Skitzo. A sure sign of psycho-ness. Anyway, so what?” said Caffeina. “No law says we can’t be friends with other species. I have a good friend who’s a dog.”

“You should be careful who you’re friends with, Caffeina.”

“That’s funny, coming from you Skitzo. Since you don’t have any friends,” retorted the cheeky feline.

“Here. Here,” interjected Cicero. “Marco, inform the others about ferrets.”

***

Marco wasn’t sure how to describe a ferret to a cat. “He has fur, but he doesn’t look much like us. He’s long, hardly any ears, and…” What could he tell them?

The cats were waiting.

Then he remembered what he liked most about his friend. “Ferrets are funny. At least Polo’s funny,” he blurted out.

“Oh!”

It was the perfect answer for the cats and broke the tension. For most of them, anyway.

“Funny is overrated,” said Skitzo. “I can’t remember the last time I was funny.”

“That’s because you’ve never been funny,” countered Caffeina.

“You risked your life for a ferret?” asked Bait.

“Well, yeah. I mean, I didn’t stop to think about it,” said Marco. “Polo’s my friend. I had to defend him.”

“Very noble of you,” replied Bait.

“How many did you say there were?” asked Cicero.

“Three. The same thugs who broke into our meeting.”

“You fought all three by yourself and lived to tell about it?” asked Pudge.

There was an admiring squeal from Caffeina. “Three raccoons on your own! You’re a hero!”

Had Marco been human, he would have been blushing.

“I think we should meet this friend of yours,” Bait said. “This one who inspires so much loyalty.”

“Yes! You should bring him to a meeting,” agreed Pudge.

Marco was relieved they were willing to meet Polo, especially since he was waiting outside.

Polo’s head shot up in the window. “Can I come in now? It’s boring out here.” Without waiting for an answer, he leaped through and fell on the floor. He picked himself up and looked around. It didn’t take long for him to decide who was having the most fun, and he immediately joined in with the kittens.

The older cats stared in group silence at the odd creature frolicking with the little ones. Gypsy broke the silence. “Guys. Focus. The raccoons. We can’t keep ignoring this problem by hiding.”

“The raccoons are cramping my lifestyle, that’s for sure,” said Pudge. “They come over every night and raid the dumpster. And would you believe? The human who used to feed me… she thinks the raccoons are cute! Now they get all the scraps. They’re such pigs!”

Cicero tried to calm them down. “Raccoons don’t stay in one place long. They’re drifters, so I believe they’ll move on soon. For now, we need to lie low.”

“Great! We have to skulk around while they terrorize the neighborhood?” Skitzo asked, his voice rising.

“We could turn them in to Animal Control,” suggested Caffeina. “Those guys are always picking up stray dogs in my neighborhood.”

“Oh, you’re so brilliant, Caffeina,” Tweezer said, rolling his eyes. “How are we going to do that? You know some human who understands ‘cat’? ”