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After a long day of hard labor at the office, one expects to arrive home to a delicious meal, before settling in to watch one’s favorite show, and taking a well-deserved nap on the couch, surrounded by one’s loved ones.

Instead we arrived in what amounted to an atmosphere of sheer pandemonium!

Harriet was experiencing a major crisis, and the moment we got back from Advantage Publishing, we were all bundled into Gran’s car and taken, at a high rate of speed, to Vena Aleman, our local veterinarian.

“I’m dead!” Harriet lamented. “This is the end, I’m dead!”

“It’s just a spot,” Brutus was saying. “Just a minor, little spot.”

“It’s cancer—I just know it is. It’s cancer and it’s spreading!”

“It’s not cancer, Harriet,” said Gran, who was trying her darndest to keep her eyes on the road, while at the same time having to keep Harriet’s panic attack at bay.

“It’s cancer of the nose,” Harriet insisted. “And it’s spreading everywhere!” She directed a pleading look at her mate. “Brutus, I’m so grateful to have known you. The only regret I have is that we didn’t meet sooner. That we had so precious little time.”

“It’s not cancer,” Brutus insisted stubbornly, but I could see he was starting to waver. “Is it, Max?”

“I’m not a doctor,” I said, as I studied the spot more closely. “It could be cancer, or it could not. Hard to know for sure.”

“If a spot has a weird shape and a weird color it’s almost certainly cancer,” Dooley announced. “And this spot looks very weird to me, and it has a very weird color, too.” He placed a consoling paw on Harriet’s arm. “It’s been wonderful knowing you, Harriet. Rest assured we’ll always remember you with fondness.”

“Oh, God!” Harriet wailed. “I’m dying—this is the end for me! And just when I looked my absolute best!”

“You do look your absolute best,” Brutus said, nervously looking at Gran, hoping for some measure of reassurance from the old lady. None was forthcoming, though, for Gran had shifted into higher gear, and the car was hurtling along the road at breakneck speed, almost clipping a few pedestrians and even a couple of cyclists in the process.

“Just when my big break finally came,” Harriet lamented as she placed a paw to her brow and closed her eyes, “fate caught up with me. I was destined for greatness, but it simply was not to be. Promise me white roses, sweetness.”

“Plenty of white roses,” Brutus promised.

“And a funeral fit for royalty.”

“Absolutely,” Brutus said.

“Is she really dying, Max?” asked Dooley as Brutus took his mate’s paw and patted it consolingly.

“I doubt it, Dooley,” I said. “Harriet is one of those cats who will never die. She’s a diva, you see. And we all know that divas outlive us all, in spite of all the drama.” Or perhaps because of it. Ordinary folk like you and me keep all that drama inside, while the Harriets of this world let it spill out at every available opportunity, transferring the bulk of their tragedy onto the shoulders of others.

We finally arrived at Vena’s, and lucky for us, there was no one in the waiting room, so we were ushered straight into the doctor’s main office, where she patiently awaited us, a sardonic smile on her face. You can say about Vena what you will—and I know that in the past I’ve called her a vicious butcher, a cruel sadist and a cat’s worst nightmare—but the woman always keeps her cool.

“So what do we have here?” she asked now as Gran hoisted Harriet onto the operating table and Vena moved in to take a closer look at that suspicious spot.

“It’s cancer, isn’t it?” asked Harriet nervously. “How long do I have? Weeks? Days? HOURS?!”

And then the most amazing thing happened. Vena frowned as she studied the spot, then performed a sort of flicking motion with her index finger, and said,“There. All gone.”

We exchanged puzzled and confused glances.

“All gone? What do you mean, all gone?” Gran demanded.

“Just a bit of dried food,” Vena explained. She gave Harriet an admonishing wag of her finger. “Looks like someone hasn’t been grooming herself as thoroughly as she could have, mh?” She then directed a critical look at Gran. “And looks like some pet parent hasn’t been conscious of their basic duty of care.”

For once in her life Gran actually managed to look sheepish and apologetic.“I had a busy day,” she said. “So when Harriet told me she had a suspicious spot, I didn’t look any further but bundled her into the car and drove straight here.”

“Harriet ‘told’ you this, did she?” said Vena with a slight smile.

“Well, I mean she didn’t actually ‘tell’ me, of course,” said Gran, grinning nervously. “But… well, you know what I mean.”

“I do know what you mean,” said Vena with a wink at the old lady. “And now that you’re here, I think it’s best if I take a closer look at the entire clowder.”

And so, all because Harriet hadn’t bothered to lick her nose after her most recent meal, we were all subjected to Vena’s obnoxious prods and pokes!

Life isn’t fair sometimes. It really is not!

CHAPTER 16

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