Purrfect Revenge

Epilogue

Dusk was falling and Dooley and I were seated on the swing Doctor Tex had installed on the back porch. Gran was sitting next to us, patiently waiting for dinner to start. Tex was whipping beef ribs onto the barbecue, joining the burger patties and sausages already sizzling on the grill. Uncle Alec was helping him by swigging back a Corona and being generous with his advice.

My stomach grumbled as the delicious scent caressed my nostrils. We’d already been fed a few slivers of raw sausage, and now we were waiting for the barbecue feast to start, cooked up by the barbecue maestro himself.

Even though Tex warned against artery-clogging red meat on a daily basis to his patients, when he wasn’t on duty he liked to treat himself to some choice artery-clogging beef ribs himself. He argued that if God didn’t want us to have barbecue, he shouldn’t have made it taste and smell so darn good.

Chase and Odelia were seated at the white plastic table Marge had placed in the garden. They were deeply engrossed in conversation, probably clearing up the last few details about the murder case. Marge was busy in the kitchen, doing something with potato salad, and putting the finishing touches on the chocolate cake she was baking. Brutus and Harriet were snuggling at Odelia's feet. They'd canceled their romantic evening for dinner with the fam.

Movement suddenly caught my eye, and when I glanced over I saw that Clarice was sneaking through Odelia’s garden. She disappeared into the house. Odelia had decided that in celebration of the fact that Clarice had provided the telling clue to catch the killer, she would adopt her. Only Clarice wasn’t in favor of being adopted. She preferred to roam wild and free. As a compromise, she had accepted that she could always get food and shelter at Odelia’s if she wanted to. She now even had a big bowl with her name on it—literally. That was actually my idea. I didn’t want Clarice stealing my food.

You might say us cats have a problem with sharing. You might be right.

I saw Clarice stalk out of the house again. Our eyes locked, and she gave me an almost imperceptible nod before skulking off, licking her whiskers.

I turned a lazy eye back to the garden, and I was struck by an outrageous sight. Chase was leaning into Odelia, and planting a kiss on her lips. And she wasn’t even fighting him! Of course, after being forced to watch Shalonda and Boa in the pool, no display of carnal love had the power to shock me anymore. Still, this wasn’t something I’d ever expected to see in my lifetime.

“Max?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Odelia and Chase are kissing.”

“I know, Dooley.”

“I mean, they’re actually kissing!”

“I know! I have eyes. I can see.”

“Um. And it looks like it’s a real kiss. Like, with tongue and all?”

“Yep, that’s a real kiss all right,” said Gran. She sighed wistfully. “Boy, that brings back a few memories.” She looked happy. “I knew this was gonna happen. I just knew it. And not a minute too soon either.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“If she’s going to provide me with a brace of great-grandchildren she needs to get a move on. I can’t wait around forever, you know.”

“What do you mean you won’t wait around forever?” asked Dooley.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not getting any younger, boys, and neither are you. If we want to hear the pitter-patter of little feet, it’s now or never.”

Dooley and I stared at each other, aghast. Pitter patter of little feet? “You mean… babies?” Dooley cried, his voice rising an octave in sheer horror.

“What do you think I mean? The pitter patter of mice? Of course babies.”

“But, but, but… I don’t want babies!” Dooley squeaked.

“Yeah, if Odelia has babies, what’s gonna happen to us?” I asked, a sense of panic settling in my stomach and even driving away my nice pre-barbecue buzz. I knew what happened when babies were born: it was in with the new, and out with the old. In this case, Dooley and Harriet and me.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you,” Gran said with a chuckle. “As long as you promise to take good care of the young ‘uns, you’ll be just fine.”

“This is it,” Dooley said miserably. “This is the end.”

“Yeah,” I echoed. “We’re doomed.”

“No, you’re not,” said Gran. “You’ll always be our babies. And if you keep catching killers like you do, you’ll probably even get a medal or something.”

“I don’t want a medal,” I said. “I just want to be Odelia’s baby.”

“Relax, boys. Nobody’s going to replace you. On the contrary, babies are fun, and they smell great. And what’s more, if Odelia and Chase get hitched, your little buddy is going to move in with you. Won’t that be a barrel of fun?”

Dooley and I stared at Brutus, who gave us a pinkie wave, then at each other, and we burst into tears. Our lives had officially gone down the toilet.

THE END

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