Arsenic And Old Books

“Not for his breed,” Dr. Romano said. “He’s a Maine Coon, and they are larger than most domestic cats. They reach maturity around three years, and adult males on average can weigh about twenty-five pounds.” She pointed out the distinguishing features, some of which I had already noticed: the tufts on the ears, the ruff around the neck, and then the hair between the pads on his feet. His tail was fluffy and long, now that he was completely dry.

“They make wonderful companions,” the vet continued. “They’re intelligent, loyal, and loving. They also tend to be mellow around children and other pets, even dogs.”

“You sound like a salesperson.” I smiled to remove any sting from the comment.

Dr. Romano grinned. “He’s going to need a home if you can’t find his owner. I don’t know of anyone in Athena or the surrounding area with Maine Coons, and we haven’t seen this handsome boy here before.”

“Maybe someone passing through town dumped him near the library,” I said. “That makes me angry even thinking about it.”

“I know,” the vet said. “Sadly, though, it happens a lot. People sometimes adopt pets without realizing the responsibilities that go with adoption. Then when they feel they can’t cope, they abandon the animals to fend for themselves.” She shook her head. “Sometimes when people move, they don’t take their pets with them. It’s totally reprehensible, especially when there are shelters to take them.”

I nodded. “I’d like to reserve a special place in hell for people who mistreat animals.”

“No argument with that here.” Dr. Romano sighed. “The question is, what are we going to do with this fellow?”

The cat, obviously aware we were talking about him, meowed loudly, then began to chirp. He turned toward me and walked to the edge of the table next to me. He held out a paw in my direction and chirped again.

“I think he’s telling you he wants to go home with you.” The vet laughed. “He seems pretty determined about it.”

I stared at the cat. I didn’t really feel up to the responsibility of a pet, and the good Lord only knew what Azalea would say if I brought a cat home. But there was something in those eyes, an intelligence perhaps, that made me think the vet was right. This cat had decided I was the person to take care of him, and that was that.

I shook my head. “I guess I don’t have much choice. He needs to be checked out, I’m sure. Aren’t there tests you need to run?”

Dr. Romano nodded. “We ought to check for feline AIDS and feline leukemia. The tests are relatively easy, and we can check for other problems as well by taking a look at his kidneys and urinary tract. If you don’t mind waiting about twenty minutes, we’ll take the samples we need, and then he can go home with you.”

The cat kept staring at me. Then he began to purr, that deep rumble that reminded me of a diesel engine. The way he looked at me made me feel he knew how lonely I was. My instincts were telling me that I needed to have this cat in my life.

I also thought he might be telling me that he needed me, too.

“Very well,” I said after a deep breath. “Let’s do it. My housekeeper may have a fit, but he needs a home. I’ll ask around and put an ad in the paper. I want to make sure no one else is going to claim him.”

“What about a name?” the vet asked.

I smiled. “Diesel.”

The cat warbled loudly, and Dr. Romano and I both laughed.

I stroked Diesel’s head. “I guess he approves.”

So did I, I suddenly realized. My heart felt lighter, and my depression had lifted, at least for now. I would have sworn Diesel smiled at me just then.

I hoped fervently that no one would come forward to claim him, because I was already quite attached to my new friend.

Luckily for both of us, no one did.

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