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The old Buschmann place had been derelict for years, and derelict houses are a breeding ground for all kinds of vermin. The Buschmann house had long been a favorite and popular hunting ground for the feral cat community of Hampton Cove, which enjoyed the feast that invariably ensued each time they set paw inside the gloomy old mansion. To others, the place might look like a hellhole, but to them it looked like what it was: the best restaurant in town for the connoisseur that was Clarice.

A cat with bald patches, and a reddish tinge where hair was still attached, her finely honed senses detected movement. She’d just entered the basement, and her hunting instincts were on high alert. This is what she lived for: the hunt and the kill. Soon she’d spotted the juiciest, fattest rat she’d seen for a long time. She was already licking her lips, saliva flowing richly into her mouth, her stomach growling in anticipation. And she was just about to jump her prey when suddenly something jumped her! And before she knew what was happening a noose had tightened itself around her neck and she was being dragged along the floor of the ancient cellar. When she tried to wriggle free, hissing and clawing as shedid, a stick touched her skin. Sparks flew, and her whole body trembled and shook, then went limp. She didn’t even realize what had happened, and even as she was dumped into a dark room she was out for the count, and probably for the best, too.

Chapter 8

I’d been listening to Harlan recount the story of his life for so long now that I thought I could probably write a book about the garrulous gerbil. Unfortunately his life story was so tedious and lacking those crucial elements of surprise and intrigue, that any book written according to the lines he set out would have been a real clunker and sleep producer. I know it produced sleep in myself and the other victim of Harlan’s storytelling prowess, for even long before I nodded off, my new friend Minna the Pekinese had fallen asleep, too. It was only when a gentle hand rocked me that I finally woke up again.

“Is it morning already?” I asked, still a little groggy from sleeping, and probably from the medication Vena had administered when she’d given me my umpteenth injection.

When I glanced up, I found myself looking at the most beautiful sight of all: Odelia!

I blinked, then actually rubbed my eyes.“Odelia?” I asked. “Is that really you?”

“Oh, look how happy he is to see you,” said Vena, whose face now moved into view right next to Odelia’s.

“Yeah, I think I did the right thing,” said Odelia.

“You did,” Vena agreed. “I don’t usually release my patients in the middle of the night, but I know how special Max is.”

“He is,” said Odelia. “He is truly very special.”

She lifted me up out of my cage, and I was so happy I was purring up a storm even as I settled into her arms.

“So how is his tooth?” asked Odelia.

“Teeth,” Vena corrected her. “I had to pull three. I also got the bloodwork back, and everything looks normal. His values are all well within the norm.” She then handed Odelia a box of medicine. “Five milligrams a day, mixed in with his food, for four days. It’s antibiotics and a painkiller.”

“What about the stitches?”

“They’ll dissolve. No need to have them removed.”

Odelia massaged the crown of my head and I pressed my face into the palm of her hand, drawing oohs and aahs from my captive audience.

“Max!” said a voice from the floor, and when I glanced down I saw that Dooley, Harriet and Brutus had also come along.

“Hey, you guys!” I said, feeling over the moon.

“Everything all right, patient?” asked Brutus.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I said. “She poked and stabbed and jabbed me with enough needles to make me feel like a pincushion, but I guess it was all for the best.”

And the best thing of all: my toothache was finally gone!

“So do you have three fake teeth now, Max?” asked Dooley.

“I don’t think so,” I said. I hadn’t really given it a lot of thought. “Odelia? Do I have to get false teeth?”

“Cats don’t wear dentures, do they?” asked Odelia.

Vena laughed.“No, they don’t. I don’t think they’d feel comfortable with dentures. They’d spit them out as soon as they had the chance. No, he’ll just have to learn to live with three teeth less, I’m afraid. But he still has plenty left, so he should be good.”

“Give us a big smile, Max,” said Harriet.

I gave her the requested big smile.

“Mh,” she said. “You don’t even notice the difference.”

Yep. Cats are vain, just like humans, I’m afraid.

I said my goodbyes to Harlan and Minna, and then we were off. During the car ride home, Brutus, Harriet and Dooley kept asking me about my harrowing experience, and I suddenly felt like the belle of the ball, relishing all the attention being lavished upon me.