Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 14 Who Wasn't There

"Come and have your horizon expanded." Koko, usually ready for an adventure, jumped uninvited into the carrying coop, but Yum Yum promptly sped away--up the ramp, around the balcony, and up the next ramp with Qwilleran in pursuit. On the second balcony he was able to grab her, but she slithered from his grasp, leaving him down on all fours. She stopped and gazed at his predicament, but as soon as he scrambled to his feet, she raced to the third balcony. He lunged at her just as she started to crawl along a horizontal beam that was forty feet above the main floor.

"Not this time, baby!" he scolded. It was no small endeavor to evict the stubborn male from the carrier with one hand and install the squirming, clutching, kicking female with the other, and they were the last to arrive at the Senior Care Facility. There was a high decibel level of vocal hubbub, barking, snarling, growling, and hissing in the lobby, which teemed with pet lovers, dogs on leashes, cats in carriers, and volunteers in yellow smocks, known as "canaries" at the facility.

Lisa Compton was there with a clipboard, assigning pets to patients.

Qwilleran asked her, "Are you the new chief of volunteers?" "I've applied for the job," she said, "but today I'm just helping out.

It's our first go at this project, and there are some wrinkles to iron out. Next time we'll stagger the visitors. Who's your friend?" "Her name is Yum Yum." "Is she gentle?

We have an emphysema patient who's requested a pet, and the doctor has okayed a cat, thinking a dog would be too frisky. Yum Yum seems quite relaxed." Qwilleran peered into the carrier, where Yum Yum had struck the dead-cat pose she always assumed after losing an argument.

"Yes, I'd say she's quite relaxed." Lisa beckoned to a canary.

"Would you take Mr. Qwilleran and Yum Yum up to 15-C for Mr.

Hornbuckle? The limit is twenty minutes." In the elevator, the volunteer remarked, "This old gentleman was caretaker for Dr.

Halifax on Goodwinter Boulevard until a couple of years ago. The doctor kept him on even though he couldn't work much toward the end.

Dr. Hal was a wonderful man." The occupant of 15-C was sitting in a wheelchair when they entered--a small, weak figure literally plugged into the wall as he received a metered supply of oxygen through a long tube, but he was waiting eagerly with bright eyes and a toothy grin.

The canary said loudly, "You have a visitor, Mr. Hornbuckle.

Her name is Yum Yum." To Qwilleran she said, "I'll come back for you when the time's up." Yum Yum was relaxed to the consistency of jelly when Qwilleran lifted her from the carrier.

"That's a cat?" the old man said in a strange voice. The nasal prongs made his voice unnaturally resonant, and ill-fitting dentures gave his speech a juicy sibilance.

"She's a Siamese," Qwilleran said, putting the limp bundle of fur on the patient's lap blanket.

"Purty kitty," he said, stroking her with a quivering hand.

"Soft, ain't she? Blue eyes!

Never seen one like this." He spoke slowly in short sentences.

Qwilleran made an attempt to entertain him with anecdotes about Siamese until he realized that the patient would rather talk than listen.

"Growed up on a farm with animules," he said.

"Barn cats, hunt'n' dogs, cows, chickens..." "I hear you used to work for Dr.

Halifax." "Fifty year, nigh onto. I were like family. Mighty fine man, he were.

What's your name?" "Qwilleran. Jim Qwilleran." "Been here long?" "Five years." "Y'knowed Dr. Halifax? I were his caretaker. Lived over the garage.

Drove 'im all over, makin' calls.

Many's a time they'd call 'im middle o' the night, and I drove 'im.

Saved lives, we did. Plenty of 'em." Yum Yum sat in a contented bundle on the blanketed lap, purring gently, her forepaws folded under her breast. Occasionally an ear flicked, tickled by a spray of saliva.

"Sittin' on her brisket, she is! She's happy!" He had a happy grin of his own. Qwilleran said, "I know Dr. Halifax worked long hours, taking care of his patients. What did he do for relaxation? Did he have any hobbies, like fishing or golf?" The old man looked furtive as if about to reveal some unsavory secret.

"Painted pitchers, he did. Di'n't tell nobody." "What kind of pictures?" Qwilleran asked, envisioning something anatomical.

"Pitchers of animules. Thick paint, it were. Took a long time to dry.

" "What did he do with them?" Melinda had never mentioned her father's hobby; in fact, she had avoided talking about her family.

"Put 'em away. Di'n't give 'em to nobody. Warn't good enough, he said." "What did you think of them, Mr. Hornbuckle?" With a guilty grin he said, "Looked like pitchers in the funny papers." "Where did he go to paint them?" "Upstairs, 'way in the back. Nobody went there, oney me. We got along good, him and me. Never thought he'd go first, like he did." Yum Yum was stirring, and she stretched one foreleg to touch the oxygen tube.

"No, no!" Qwilleran scolded, and she withdrew.

"Minds purty good, don't she?" "Mr. Hornbuckle, do you know that Dr.