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“Oh, we’ve been through this already,” said Harriet. “Just do it already. Go, go, go!”

I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth a little.

“Wider,” said Odelia. “Wider, Max.”

“How hard can it be to open your mouth, Max?” asked Harriet, who was in one of her moods again.

“Just open as wide as you can,” said Odelia. “That’s it. Now who’s a good boy?”

I don’t like being talked to like a toddler, but I did as I was told and opened my mouth wide.

Now I want to add a minor PSA. Don’t try this at home, folks. Most cats are not as well-behaved and well-trained as we are, and if you try to come anywhere near them with a toothbrush they’ll bite you. And then they’ll scratch you. And when they’re done biting you and scratching you they’ll punch you in the eyeball. And if you use an electric toothbrush they won’t be happy that you’re being ‘modern’ but they’ll bite you even harder, because most cats don’t like mechanical noises. But since this was Odelia, and I still had the recollection of having three teeth pulled by Vena, I was willing to give it a shot.

She lowered the toothbrush to my teeth and applied gentle pressure, then moved it all around.

“It’s not so bad,” I said, though the words probably didn’t come out that clearly.

“What did you say, Max?” asked Dooley.

“I said it’s not so bad!” I repeated.

“I didn’t get that,” said Brutus. “Did you get that, Harriet?”

“Who cares?” said Harriet. “As long as things are zipping along I’m happy. Just do the other side and be done with it, Odelia.”

“Careful now,” said Odelia. “I’m going to try massaging your gums a little.”

Now that was too much.“It tickles!” I giggled, and promptly clamped down on the toothbrush. There was the sound of a crack, and when I opened my mouth again the thing had changed its tune. Instead of the nice humming sound it now produced a high-pitched whine. And then there was that odd smell. Like something burning. Yuck.

“Uh-oh,” said Odelia.

“You broke it!” Harriet cried. “I don’t believe this, Max—you broke the thing!”

“She’s right,” said Odelia, frowning at her electric toothbrush. “You bit down so hard you cracked the plastic.”

“Oops,” I said.

“Oh, well,” said Dooley, suddenly sounding a lot happier. “Maybe next time.”

“Don’t worry, you guys” said Odelia. “I have plenty of other brushes.” And she removed the one I’d broken and snapped another one on top of the device.

“Oh, shoot,” Dooley muttered.

And so began a new chapter in our lives: from that moment on our snappers would always be squeaky clean, and plaque-free—whatever plaque is.

“Plaque is the enemy,” Odelia explained. “We have to fight plaque.”

“Great,” I said as I grimaced. That toothpaste tasted horrible. “Can I go now?”

“Yes, you can,” said Odelia, giving me a pat on the head. “You did good, Max. Next!”

Harriet, of course, was the next one to experience the miracle of the electric toothbrush, and before long she had a toothpaste smile, too.

“Plaque is the enemy,” repeated Dooley reverently when it was his turn.

“That’s right,” said Odelia as she carefully applied brush to teeth and gums.

“And here I always thought dogs were the enemy,” said Brutus. “Just goes to show you’re never too old to learn new stuff.”

Soon all of us had taken a turn on the hot seat and as we smacked our gums and tried very much to get the horrible taste of mint out of our mouths, Odelia put away the brush.

“Tomorrow, same time, same place,” she said, sounding entirely too happy.

One thing I need to have a word with Odelia about, though, is sharing stuff. I mean, when I passed by the bathroom later that night, I saw how Chase was brushing his teeth with the exact same brush Odelia had used on us. Now I know that humans think sharing is caring, but I, for one, would prefer my own dedicated toothbrush. After all, you never know where Chase’s mouth has been, right?

And when he suddenly took the brush out of his mouth and stared at it, muttering something about a weird taste, then smelled it and grimaced, I could tell he was of the same opinion.

Chapter 25

The next morning, bright and early, Odelia decided to drop by Courtyard Living, the landscaping company Boyd Baker used to work for. She’d discovered it was still in business, though now it probably belonged to the next generation of owners, or an entirely new one.