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“I guess it’s better than watching TV,” I conceded, although I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to cuddle and relax with my dashing other half. In truth, we never took it easy, such was the nature of our crazy lives.

A rapping at the big bay window broke my concentration. Our not-so-friendly neighborhood raccoon stood on the ledge, waiting to be let in. This happened somewhat frequently these days and was why I no longer kept a screen in the window.

“What’s up?” I asked after cranking it open.

“What’s… up?” Pringle asked, gasping for breath between the two words. “That all… you got? After I… tracked those… annoying little… furballs for… you?”

Oh, yes!In all the fuss, I’d almost forgotten that I’d sent him on a fact-finding/ raccoon-distracting mission. “Welcome back. What have you got for me?”

He hopped down and pressed a hand against the wall for support.“First refreshments… Then I’ll spill.”

“Be right back,” I told Charles.

“What?” he asked, taken aback. “Don’t leave me alone with that thing!”

“With thisthing?” Pringle raged.“With this thing? I’ll have you know that I’m the most pedigreed—” Suddenly his words gave way and he moved one furry hand to clutch his chest. “I mean… Please… Need food.”

“Nice try. I don’t like lying,” I scolded, returning to my desk chair and spinning in it to face him. “I’ll feed you, but you’ll talk first.”

Knowing the act was up, Pringle straightened his posture and cracked his neck to either side.“Fine.”

I waited for him to comb at his fur with his fingers as he gathered his bearings.

Finally he began.“I ran for miles but got nowhere with the case.”

“Did you even try?” I asked with indignation. He’d been gone for so long, I’d let myself hope he’d found something. No dice.

“You insult me,” he hissed and bared his teeth. “Of course I tried. I asked every animal I came across, but nobody knew nothing about no orphaned kittens.”

“When this is all over and done, we need to work on your grammar,” I muttered without thinking.

Pringle dropped to all fours and raised his back, making his body appear much larger than its usual size.“Really? I spend all morning doing your dirty work, and this is the thanks I get? I’m leaving.”

“Wait. I’m sorry. Let me get you some food first. Fancy Feast?” Even though Octo-Cat had switched to a new brand of cat food called Delectable Delights to support his girlfriend’s modeling career, I still had to buy Fancy Feast to satisfy the raccoon’s frequent cravings.

“Yes, and some steak, please,” he added while licking his chops.

“How much issome steak?”

“How much you got?”

“I’ll get it,” Charles offered. As he passed me, he leaned close and whispered, “That way you can’t be held accountable if I get it wrong.”

“I heard that,” Pringle complained to me once Charles had left the room. “And now you owe me double. Quality or quantity, it’s your choice, but I wouldn’t turn my nose up at some prime rib served medium rare. You never buy me the good cuts of steak.”

I never bought the good cuts for myself, either. And weren’t raccoons supposed to feed themselves?

Nope. I wasn’t falling for his sob story.

“Sorry. I don’t think so. Not after you’ve invaded my privacy left and right.”

“I don’t get humans’ obsession withprivacy.” He made air quotes around this last word.“It’s not like you give any to us.”

I refused to let him get away with that one.“What are you talking about? I never bother you. It’s always the other way around.”

“So now I’m a bother?”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just—”

“Just what?” He widened his eyes in challenge while awaiting my response.

Reasoning with him never got me very far, and I was too busy with everything else to bother trying now.“Forget it,” I said with a deep sigh.

“Yeah, like I said, you owe me, but don’t worry. I already know exactly what I want, and it won’t cost you much at all.”

Oh, joy.Maybe if I didn’t respond, he would keep quiet until Charles returned with the raccoon’s ill-gotten gains.

“I love my Carla, but I think I’m ready to handle two of her kind,” he explained while he mimed taking aim at me with the gun. Thank goodness I knew Carla was what he had named his Nerf weapon, otherwise I’d be seriously offended for all womankind—human, raccoon, or otherwise.

“I’m not getting you another Nerf gun,” I said firmly. If I showed any signs of weakness, he’d pounce.

“It’s okay if it’s not name brand. I ain’t picky.”

“Great.”

“You can deliver it to my left treehouse by sundown.” And didn’t that say it all? The fact he had to specifywhich treehouse he wanted to receive the hypothetical delivery.

“I’m not doing anything until we figure out the deal with these kittens,” I said, more than fed up with his demands. “And if you’ll recall, you didn’t actually even help.”

“Hey, that’s not my fault! I tried!” he squeaked. Finally he’d begun to lose his cool, which meant he was also losing his leverage.