The Nose Knows (13 page)

Tonight they were both waiting at the back door when Mom and I returned from Puppy Park. Bobby immediately starting talking. “Boy, you’re way late. You okay? Yeah, you’re okay. You look like everything’s cool. I’m starving! We need to eat now!” He jumped onto the cans of cat food stacked in the corner. He always does that. It was as if he wanted to make sure Mom remembered where she’d put them.

Mom didn’t need the reminder. “I know, I know. We’re late. I know you’re hungry. Okay, I’m getting your dinner right now.”

Sweetie, however, was more interested in what had happened at the park. “Spunky, what about Operation Ring Be Gone? Did it work? Did Jacob spill the beans? Was Mom upset?”

“Mom’s fine. Jacob told her a lot, and I have a lot to tell you. But not right now. I really need to eat and then I really need a nap. Quincy and I had to do a lot of running today. Mom told Jacob she had to get home because she has a client tonight, so we’ll be busy after dinner. How about we all meet in the living room when Mom goes to bed?”

Many families hold their meetings in the kitchen. Me? I always vote for the room with the softest cushions. My senior joints appreciate pillows more and more with each passing year.

As Mom opened the cans and got out our dishes, she was humming. Guess she was happy after her talk with Jacob. Her good mood was certainly evident in our dinner bowls. We all got extra chicken!

M
om’s session that evening was with Joyce. Toward the end of the session, Mom said, “Joyce, for the last few weeks, we’ve talked about your past, including some of the terrible things Hank did to you. Maybe we need to go back further. Tell me about your parents.”

“What’s to tell? We were poor. I was the only kid.”

“And, what about your parents?”

Joyce stayed quiet. Sweetie shifted and sat up in his basket. He was looking right at Joyce. His head was cocked to one side. He looked pensive.

“Joyce, did you hear my question?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Is it hard for you to talk about your parents? What about your father?”

“He was mean.”

“And?”

Joyce took a deep breath. “Daddy drank too much. He said I should’ve been a boy. He said, ‘Girls are only good for cooking, cleaning, and making babies.’ Daddy didn’t like me. He didn’t like Momma either. She had a lot of black eyes, too. That’s just the way it was.”

The words tumbled out of her, but she never raised her head. She sat staring at her lap.

“Joyce, is your Momma still alive?’

“Naw, she died when I was sixteen. That’s when I ran off with Hank. Kinfolk said I should’ve stayed and cared for Daddy, but he was mean as a snake. You can’t care for a mean snake.”

“How long had you known Hank?”

“Ever since we were kids. Hank had always been in my life. He didn’t drink back then. He was nice. I felt safe with Hank. But when our first daughter was born, he started drinking. Then, he became a snake too. Guess drink will do that to a man.”

“Is your daddy still alive?”

Joyce didn’t answer. Sweetie moved quietly onto the desk. He lay down beside Mom’s screen. His eyes were fixed on Joyce. She was still staring at her lap.

“Joyce, can you tell me what you are thinking?”

Joyce looked up. Her stare was focused right on the center of the camera. “Doc, sometimes it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.”

The coldness of Joyce’s voice made me shiver.

Sweetie reached out a paw, touched the screen and uttered a soft, gentle meow.

Mom reached over and gently stroked Sweetie.

“Joyce, our time is almost up, but I think you should stay longer tonight so we can keep talking . . .”

“Naw, can’t tonight. Got to get going. Bye, Doc.”

With those few short words Joyce was up and heading for the door.

“Joyce, wait!”

She didn’t wait. The door shut behind her. The office was now empty.

Mom looked at Sweetie. Sweetie looked at Mom.

Mom shrugged and sighed. “Nothing we can do about it now, Sweetie.”

When she finished, Mom was exhausted. It had been a long day for her. She said she needed a shower. Remember, she and Jacob had also run a good piece chasing us in the park. She’d worked up a good sweat. The smell of sweat isn’t as appealing to humans as it is to us. When she got into the shower, I took the opportunity to meet with the family and tell them what had happened with Operation Ring Be Gone.

Sweetie loved how it all worked out. He always gets choked up over happy endings. He’s one big mush-pot. But it was Fancy-Pants that got right down to the nitty-gritty.

“Enough mush already! The humans like each other—fine, we get that. The dogs like each other— great. But tell me this, O wise doggie, how does Jacob feel about cats? Huh? What about that? We know a human might love dogs but they could also be a big cat bigot. Especially if the first cat they met had an attitude problem and acted all hissy. Then they’d think
all
cats are that way and they say “See, I told you, cats are nasty.” And excuse me, Spunky old girl, Quincy might be a great friend of yours but I’m not going to trust him with my fancy butt just on your say-so. If Jacob or Quincy is anti-cat, we’ve a serious problem on our paws.”

I had to admit, Fancy was right. I’d never actually asked Quincy how he felt about cats. I thought he’d be cool with them but I shouldn’t have assumed. I’d ask him tomorrow.

On the other hand, I couldn’t directly ask Jacob. We needed another way.

People can be very opinionated about what kinds of animals live in their houses. In fact, that’s how fish became pets. The story goes there was a man who wanted a pet, but he was highly allergic to fur. So one day he bought home some baby carp, plopped them in a bowl, and there you had it—goldfish! Did you know people actually talk to their fish? I will admit that it’s better than the man I met who talked to his pet rock, but I still think talking to a fish tank is strange. Before you ask, no, I don’t speak fish.

Nor do I speak English. So we had to find a way to see Jacob’s reaction, not just to one cat, but to a lot of cats. We decided Mom needed to invite Jacob over for dinner. The boys could then see for themselves what happened. Let’s face it, if Jacob was a diehard cat bigot, we had to start looking for another man. We all agreed it was best to find out the truth as quickly as possible.

But how to get Mom to invite Jacob over for dinner? It was far more likely Jacob would invite Mom out to a restaurant. Since Mom didn’t do much cooking anymore, she might return the favor by taking him to another restaurant. That pattern could go on indefinitely. We needed to intervene.

Time was a-wasting. We’d all have to work together to pull this one off.

T
hat evening we met to figure out how we’d get Jacob to our house for dinner.

“Tell Quincy to take charge and walk the man over here!”

“Bobby, I don’t think that would be so easy to do.”

Fancy chimed in. “Spunky, I always show up for dinner if I like what’s being served.”

“Fancy, you’ll eat anything and everything!” Bobby sniped.

“No wait, Fancy has a good point. I wonder what Jacob does like to eat?”

“Real men like steak!” Bobby said with conviction.

“Hey, I saw Mom—put a big steak in the freezer— just last week.”

“That’s great, Fearless, but how are we going to get it out of there?”

Fancy puffed himself up as he said, “That’s easy, just use my tail.”

That night Operation Steak and Potatoes took shape.

Fancy-Pants was to play a pivotal role in this maneuver. I was hoping if he got to be the star of the show, it might help him feel like a real member of the family. Fancy had only been in our family for about four months. One day he’d shown up at an outside feeding station. I, for one, was relieved to see he wasn’t another tiger stripe. Nope, this boy was orange and white, just like the colors of a Creamsicle. He wasn’t small, but he looked like he had small bones. He was delicate looking. He had a tall, slender body, on the end of which was a huge, bushy plume. It looked like he’d stuck his nose in an electrical socket. The fur on his tail stuck out as if it was permanently charged. The name that first came out of Mom’s mouth seemed fitting. She’d called him Fluffy-T, short for Fluffy Tail.

Fluffy-T was a very friendly cat. Always rubbing on Mom and licking her hand. After he’d come back to eat three days in a row, Mom evoked her three-day rule. She took Fluffy-T to see Dr. Steve.

This time Mom had Dr. Steve run a few extra tests. Fluffy-T’s delicate nature concerned her. He acted healthy enough but she wasn’t sure he could make it out there with the tough guys. Also he wasn’t afraid of people at all. For a full-time outside cat this could be a disadvantage. One needed some street smarts in order to survive. Fluffy-T didn’t seem to know when to get out of the street, let alone know how to survive living on it. So Mom had him tested to make sure he didn’t carry any viruses that could infect the inside boys. Fluffy-T passed all the tests and he moved into our house.

It only took Mom about two days to change his name. Once he came inside we saw that Fluffy-T was real cocky. He pranced about the house as if he owned it. When he walked, he swooshed his hips. Now Fearless could sashay his booty, but this new boy definitely swooshed as he strutted. He was especially proud of his magnificent tail, which he always held straight up. Plain and simple, he was a dandy. He was definitely a Fancy-Pants.

Mom knows that if you observe critters long enough you’ll see what name is already embedded in our personalities. Most humans are too impatient, which is why we have friends named “Spot,” “Blackie,” and even “Dog.” I personally like the last one, as I certainly have met some dogs who were “real dogs.” Of course, there are many interpretations to what I just said, and you can decide which one you like the best.

Fancy was also a bold little guy. He was already vying with Bob for being first in line for everything. He also had sensitive ears. He could hear stuff that the rest of us were oblivious to. He was also the youngest of the group and had energy to burn. He loved to jump on the other boys’ backs and play rough-and-tumble.

One time he tried to jump on me—stupid cat! But, to give him credit, he moved away real quick when he saw my teeth headed for his plumed rear-end, and he never tried it again. He now makes a wide arc when he passes by me. If I initiate my famous “Don’t even think about it” stare, he’ll actually walk backwards out the room. I love when he does that! I tried to teach Sweetie how to imitate my stare so Fancy-Pants would leave him alone, but the message got lost in translation. Fancy taunts Sweetie the most.

Operation Steak and Potatoes now required that we give Fancy-Pants two key assignments.

Our plan revolved around several facts. One, we’d never met a man who didn’t like steak. Two, Mom had a large steak in the big freezer. Three, there was a space under the freezer that we thought we could use. Mom had broken off the cover months ago. Four, none of us could open a freezer door. That meant we had to trick Mom into helping us. This is where Fancy came into the picture. His first assignment was to keep an eye on Mom and to send up a loud signal when he saw her heading toward the big freezer. That’s where Mom stores the cats’ frozen fish, which she needs to replenish several times a week. The boys all volunteered to eat as much fish as possible in order to speed up the process. Real hard work, huh?

Anyway, two days later they finished their current batch of fish. Mom headed to the freezer and Fancy-Pants succeeded in his first assignment. He sent out a loud meow. We all came running. We were about to do a test run.

Fancy initiated his second assignment. As Mom approached the freezer, he jumped up on the dryer and then to the chest of drawers and finally to the top of the freezer. Mom saw nothing unusual in this. All the cats loved to be on top of the freezer. They tell me it gets nice and cozy warm up there. Fancy-Pants then sat down and casually draped his splendid tail in front of the freezer door. I moved next to Mom’s feet. Bobby and Sweetie stood just to the left of the freezer so they could see inside when the door opened. Fearless stayed behind in his designated back-up position.