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“That’s right,” I said. “Big storks live in a stork colony in the sky and they bring all the babies into this world. Isn’t that right, Harriet?”

“But what about the knots and the tubes and stuff?” asked Dooley, who might look like a fool some of the time but wasn’t fooled all of the time.

“Don’t listen to Harriet,” I said. “She’s getting certain things completely mixed up. Right?Harriet?”

“Yeah, I’m so sorry, Dooley,” she said, thunking her head in an exaggerated fashion. “I was talking about plumbing, not babies. When tubes get clogged humans send for a plumber, so that’s what I was talking about. Babies are obviously brought by those nice and friendly storks. Our dear, dear friends.”

“No, they’re not,” said Brutus, who wasn’t aware of our policy to protect Dooley from some of the more graphic facts of life. “Babies are made when a male and female mate, which is why we need our tubes untied, and quick, too.”

Dooley looked from Brutus to me, unsure who to believe.

“Now you’ve done it,” said Harriet, giving her boyfriend a shove.

“Now I’ve done what?”

“Dooley hasn’t had the talk,” she hissed.

“What talk?”

“About the birds and the bees!”

“What birds? What bees?” asked Dooley.

“Well, the birds are obviously the storks I was telling you about,” I said.

“And the bees? How do they feature into the thing?” asked Brutus, who was also interested. Apparently he hadn’t had this particular talk yet either.

But before I could get into the matter in more detail, a sight for sore eyes suddenly materialized before us. It was Gran, and she was smiling down on us with all the benevolence of a nurturing little mother.

“Well, there you are,” she said, taking a seat on the bench. “I was wondering where you went off to. There’s been an emergency, my sweet and precious darlings. Your human needs you. But first tell me all about why you decided to run off and scare me half to death.”

Chapter 18

We were in grandma’s Peugeot. Well, actually not grandma’s but Tex and Marge’s old red Peugeot. How she ever induced them to let her drive it I do not know, for Gran is a terrible driver. Fortunately for my peace of mind I’d rarely had to endure her driving style, as usually Odelia is the one driving us around, but this time there was no escape.

“So tell me the whole story,” she said as she sat hunched over the wheel, intensely scowling at the windshield as if it had personally offended her.

The car was swerving across the road, as Gran has trouble driving in a straight line, but that wasn’t even the worst of it. From time to time, as I told my story and told it well, she glanced over in my direction, and took her eyes off the road. Luckily people in Hampton Cove are familiar with the Chief of Police’s mother’s driving, and know to jump out of the way when they see her coming.Problem is the tourists. They are innocents likely to be mowed down, like corn before Gran’s sickle, and how she’s managed to live this long without committing vehicular manslaughter is actually quite beyond me.

“It all began when Brutus decided he wanted to be a woman,” I said.

“I have changed my mind since then,” Brutus said, instigated by a poke in the ribs from a grateful Harriet.

“A woman? Why would you want to be a woman?” asked Gran, glancing back at Brutus.

“Use the rearview mirror, Gran,” I suggested.

“He saw a documentary,” Harriet explained.

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” grunted Gran. “I remember this one time I saw a documentary on drag queens. And wouldn’t you know it, next day I found myself dressing up like a drag queen and parading along Main Street before I happened to catch my reflection in the barber store window and came tomy senses.”

“Aren’t drag queens men who dress up like women?” I asked, confused.

“So? Why should men have all the fun?” Gran demanded heatedly.

“Anyway,” I said, “since Brutus seemed confused about his male identity, I thought he should probably see a shrink. Seek professional help, you know.”

“I get it,” said Gran. “You called RuPaul.”

“Who’s RuPaul?”

“He’s probably the cat shrink we’ve been looking for,” said Dooley.

“But since we didn’t have RuPaul’s number,” I continued, trying to get back to my story, “we talked to Kingman instead.”

“Is he a shrink?” asked Gran, interested.

“No, but he knows every cat in Hampton Cove and probably a few in the surrounding towns, too. In the course of our conversation, Harriet revealed her main objection against Brutus becoming a female: she wants to start a family, a dream she’s always harbored.” Though in secret, apparently.

“A dream I’ve always harbored,” Harriet echoed, cuddling up to Brutus, who purred contentedly. “And now it’s finally happening, papa bear.”

“Finally, mama bear.”

“But then Kingman said no way could Harriet and Brutus start a family, as we’ve all been neutered—or spayed—or whatever the correct vernacular.”

“Yeah, I’m with you so far,” said Gran. “And that’s when you rushed home and woke me up from my beauty sleep. So what made you run off and go into hiding?”