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“It’s not fair. You know it, I know it, and Brutus knows it. But unfortunately it’s very hard for us to explain to Ted and Marcie. So for now, and until I can get Gran or Marge or Odelia to talk to Ted and Marcie, you’re going to share your kibble with us. Is that clear?”

“Um…”

“Do I make myself clear?!”

“Yes—Yes, Harriet, it’s very clear!” he hurried to say. About as clear as mud.

Half an hour later, when Harriet and Brutus had left to go traipsing about unleashed, as they liked to do—proving once more that they were, in fact, cats and not dogs—Rufus saw that another cat had joined him. It was none other than Max, and he was looking at him through the hole in the fence.

“Hey, buddy,” said Max. “How are you holding up?”

“Not well, Max,” he admitted. “Harriet wants to eat from my bowl, and she’s also taken over my favorite spot. And Brutus has taken over my ball and he’s now playing with Ted all the time, seriously cutting into my playtime.” He sighed deeply. “How did you live with these cats all thistime and not go stark-raving mad?”

Max laughed at this.“I guess it takes some getting used to. But in time I’m sure you’ll reach some kind of entente and you’ll find that Harriet and Brutus are great friends.”

“But Harriet is horrible, Max! She drives me crazy!”

“She probably needs a little time to settle in.”

“Can’t you please get rid of her for me? Can’t you convince your humans to take her back? I had a good life, and now it’s completely ruined. And besides, she’s not a dog, and Brutus is not a dog, and still they both insist that they’re dogs now. But they’re not!”

“Brutus is having a difficult time,” said Max, “but I’m sure it will soon blow over, and then he’ll understand that his old life wasn’t as bad as all that.”

Hope surged in the big sheepdog’s bosom. “So you think this is all just a temporary thing? That things will soon go back to normal?”

“I’m not sure, Rufus, but I certainly hope so.” He gestured to the Pooles’ house, or what was left of it, and where now builders were busy creating a brand-new structure on the ruins of the old foundations. “Brutus and Harriet lost their home, you see, and I think it messed with their minds a little—especially Brutus. Once the house is ready I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to come home again.”

“And how long is that going to take?”

“Oh, about three months or so?”

“Three months! Max, you have to do something. I can’t take three months of this!”

“Just hang in there, Rufus. You can do it.”

“No, I can’t. If this keeps up, I’m going to elope, I swear. Harriet has even ruined dog choir for us—dog choir! Which is now run by a cat!”

“Look, I’ll talk to Marge, all right? See if she can’t talk some sense into Brutus.”

“Oh, please, Max, do. Save me from—”

“Save you from what?” suddenly asked Harriet. Rufus saw to his horror that the monster had returned, to make his life miserable once more.

“Save him from that terrible noise,” Max was quick to say.

“What noise?” asked Harriet, looking as irritable and unreasonable as ever.

“The construction,” said Max. “It’s messing with his peace of mind, isn’t that right, Rufus?”

“It does,” Rufus said, directing a grateful look at the big blorange cat. “It really does.”

“I don’t see how Max can save you from that noise,” Harriet snapped. “It’s called building a house, Rufus. Noise is a given. So just get over it already, will you?”

And with these words, she directed a pointed look at Rufus, causing the latter to quickly jump up from his favorite spot and abandon it so Harriet could take over.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Harriet,” Max warned.

“Do what?” asked Harriet as she lay down comfortably.

“You do realize that dogs have fleas?”

Harriet glanced at Rufus, a horrified look in her eyes.“Fleas!”

“Yeah, it’s natural for all dogs to have fleas and other parasites. There’s nothing vets can do about it either. They treat them and a couple of days later they’re full of the annoying little bugs again. They’re used to it, too. Isn’t that right, Rufus?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” said Rufus, following Max’s lead. “I’m at a point in my life where they don’t bother me anymore. I’ve simply learned to live with them over the years.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!” Harriet demanded, suddenly jumping up as if the ground had bitten her.

“They do jump over to cats you know,” said Max, “and they are a lot more annoying for us than they are for dogs.”

“Get them off me!” Harriet cried. “Brutus, get them off! I can feel them crawling all over me!”

“Oh, dear,” said Brutus softly as he gave a curious glance in Max’s direction.

“Also, if I were you I wouldn’t eat from Rufus’s bowl,” Max added.

“And why not? Kibble is kibble,” said Harriet.

“Because they put something in dog kibble that’s very healthy for dogs but lethal for cats.”

“Lethal!” Harriet cried.

“Yeah, it’s called dognip. Dogs are crazy about it, just like cats are crazy about catnip. Only it does something nasty to our digestive system. Very nasty, indeed.”

“Dognip! I didn’t even know that dognip existed!”

“Oh, it does,” said Max.