Six Cats A Slayin'

“Good morning.” Stewart peered at the paper lying on the table in front of me. “What’s that all about? Another message from the kid?”

“Yes, with a response from me. Poor child sounds upset, but hopefully this will reassure him or her.” I started to get up.

“No, I’ll take it back.” Stewart disappeared into the hall but returned quickly. “All done. Are you going to lie in wait for this kid?”

“Off and on,” I said. “I don’t intend to spend the entire day watching the front door. The child might not come back until tonight, and I would have wasted an entire day sitting there.”

“True.” Stewart poured coffee into his favorite mug. He took a chair to my left. “Haskell and I can keep an eye out for someone lurking in the bushes while we work on the cage.”

I chuckled. “Speaking of lurking in the bushes—last night after I said good-bye to Helen Louise, I was about to walk back into the garage when I thought I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye.”

“Near the front door?”

“I wasn’t sure,” I said. “I stopped and looked, but everything was still. I figured I had imagined it and came on inside. But now I’m thinking that what I saw was the child sneaking away after putting that note on the door.”

“Possibly,” Stewart said. “You didn’t see anything on the door at the time?”

“Perhaps if I’d really been looking at the door, I might have,” I said, “but I wasn’t. Sooner or later I will find out who this child is.”

“I’m sure you will.” Stewart had a sip of coffee. “Haskell should be down soon, and we’ll get started on the cage.”

“I really appreciate this,” I said. “I’ll cook breakfast for you.”

“That’s kind of you, but I’m going to be having a cold breakfast.” Stewart grimaced. “My cholesterol is up, and I need to lay off the bacon and sausage for a while. So it’s a bowl of granola, yogurt, and fruit for me this morning.”

“What about Haskell? Is he having a cold breakfast, too?”

“Yes, he’s going to have the same, although I suspect he may want toast as well.” He smiled fondly. “He does like his buttered toast and jelly.”

“Don’t we all,” I replied. Not to mention buttered biscuits, cheese grits, scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage. Maybe country ham, too

. I shook my head, thinking guiltily of my own cholesterol levels, always a little above the norm.

“What’s wrong?” Stewart asked.

“Food cravings.” I laughed. “The minute anyone starts talking about healthy food, I immediately think of all the things for breakfast that you shouldn’t eat every day. Which I do.”

“There’s plenty of granola, yogurt, and fruit,” Stewart said, his tone bland. “Feel free to help yourself.”

“Thanks. I might just do that.” I pushed back from the table. “Before I eat anything, I’m going back upstairs to feed the kittens and clean their litter boxes. Then I’ll have a shower. Diesel, do you want to come with me?”

The cat, who had evidently ignored the poodle long enough that Dante had finally given up, meowed. I gathered the cans of food and the bag of dry crunchies and placed them on a tray I dug out from one of the cabinets.

“See you in a bit,” I said to Stewart, who nodded.

Diesel raced up the stairs ahead of me. He seemed to know our destination. When I reached the second floor, I saw him disappear into Laura’s old bedroom.

I made sure to shut the bedroom door to limit the possibilities if any of the kittens escaped from the bathroom. Diesel stood ready in front of the bathroom door, from under which I could see small paws protruding. Diesel growled and batted at the paws, and they were quickly withdrawn.

Balancing the tray on one hand, I opened the door enough for Diesel to slip in. After a few seconds I slipped into the bathroom, too. As I had guessed, the kittens had swarmed over Diesel. My boy had been smart enough to lure them about three feet away from the door.

I fed the kittens and gave them fresh water before I attended to the litter boxes. When I finished, I spent a few minutes playing with them, holding and stroking each one in turn. Ramses wiggled the entire time I held him, impatient to get down and join in the fray with his siblings. The others seemed to enjoy the attention I gave them.

I left Diesel in the bathroom with the kittens, promising to return after my shower. He appeared to be happy staying with the active quintet.

Twenty minutes later I returned—showered, shaved, and dressed in more appropriate daytime attire. I called to Diesel before I opened the door, and he warbled in response. I opened the door wide enough for him to ease out, and he did so. I managed to close the door before any of the inmates escaped.

The sun had begun to rise, I noticed as Diesel and I walked into the kitchen. I heard sounds of activity coming from the direction of the living room but decided that I wanted my breakfast before I went to see how the cage was coming along.