The Mysteries of Max: Books 25-27

Chapter 21

When we finally arrived home we were met by Odelia, standing in the door. Next to her was… a dog.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“That, my friend,” said Brutus with a grin, “is what is commonly known as a dog. And in case you don’t know what a dog is—a dog is a member of the canine species and…”

“I know what a dog is, Brutus. But what is it doing here?”

When we approached, Odelia waved at us and said, “I’m so glad you guys are all right.”

“Of course they’re all right, babe,” said Chase, planting a quick kiss on her lips. “They’ve got the best cat bodyguard for miles around. Also the only cat bodyguard for miles around,” he added a little ruefully.

“How did it go?” asked Odelia.

“Fine—if you can call a bunch of cats caterwauling all night fine.”

She now crouched down and petted the big dog on the head. He was a dog of the Bulldog variety and was big and round and had one of those smushed-up faces that made it hard to know what he was thinking. His eyes were hooded, and saliva was dripping from twin pouches next to what I assumed was his mouth. He looked like someone had attempted to create a dog but hadn’t entirely succeeded.

“Look, you guys,” said Odelia. “Your knight in shining armor has arrived.”

We all stared at her, then at the dog, not quite catching her drift.

“Rambo will be your guard dog from now on,” she said. “I’ve got him on loan from the K9 squad. He’s actually retired now, but still does odd jobs for them from time to time. In fact he’s pretty much the K9 unit’s mascot, so please be nice to him, all right?”

The dog, who hadn’t spoken, now opened his mouth for the first time. I half expected more saliva to come pouring out, having been pooling up inside his mouth, but instead he said, in a deep rumbling voice, “Hi, cats.”

“Hi… you,” I said by way of greeting.

This was too much. A dog? Guarding cats? No way!

“Hi, Rambo,” said Dooley, stepping to the fore. “Welcome to our humble home.”

“Thanks, bud,” said Rambo, not exactly conveying a wealth of emotion.

“This was my idea, you know,” said Dooley proudly, and I gawked at him.

“Your idea!”

“Yeah, I thought a guard dog would make sure we don’t get locked up and set on fire again.”

“But… I thought you said we were going to get trained,” I said to Odelia. “Like dogs!”

“No, I said I was going to get you a trained dog to look after you. And here he is. Yay!”

“Oh, dear Lord,” I said. As if it wasn’t enough to be guarded by a human, now Odelia had to add a dog to the mix?

“I’m a great guard dog,” said the dog. “I used to guard the president when he was in town.”

“The president was in town?” I asked. “When was this? I must have missed it.”

“What did he say?” asked Odelia, who can talk to cats, but unfortunately her abilities don’t extend to dogs.

“He says he used to guard the president when he was in town.”

“Oh, he probably means one of the former presidents,” said Odelia.

“A former president!” I said. “How old are you!”

“Old,” said the dog. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve lost my bark.” And to show us he meant what he said, he barked. Once.

Oh, dear. This was a disaster, wasn’t it?

We all filed into the house, and soon Harriet and Brutus made themselves scarce, disappearing into the house next door. Dooley and I moved up the stairs and hopped onto the bed, waiting for Chase and Odelia to join us, and before I knew what was happening, suddenly a minor earthquake made the bed tremble and shake!

It was Rambo, making the great leap and following in our pawsteps.

And so when Odelia and Chase finally emerged, they found their bed bedecked not with holly, but with two members of the feline species and one, very large, drooling dog.

“I think we’re going to need a bigger bed,” said Chase, surveying the scene.

Somehow they managed to squeeze in, and soon Rambo was snoring away, showing us what a great guard dog he really was.

“I hope it wasn’t too horrible?” said Odelia, addressing her boyfriend, not us.

“It was okay. I got hit with shoes all night, but apart from that it was all good.”

“Oh, no. My poor baby.”

“Poor cats. They have to go through this kind of thing all the time, I imagine.”

“So many people out there who don’t appreciate cats. I don’t know what’s going on with the world.”

I could have told her: a distinct lack of aesthetic refinement. But I was on the verge of falling asleep, so I didn’t bother.

“So now you have a brother, huh?” said Chase. “How does that feel?”

“I’m not sure. I guess it will take some getting used to.”

“He seems like a great kid.”

“Yeah, he seems really nice.”

“Do you think he’ll move in next door permanently?”

“I don’t know. Mom doesn’t seem all that happy with this new arrangement.”

“I can imagine. It must have come as a great shock to her to discover that her husband fathered a son with another woman.”

“Yeah, I better have a talk with her tomorrow. See how she’s holding up.”

They both lapsed into silence, then, and soon only soft snores could be heard—the snores of one woman (cute little snores), one male (as if he were trying to cut through a tree trunk), one canine (wet slobbering snores), and two felines (I can’t tell you how that sounded because that’s when I fell asleep).