We could hardly believe our luck, since Kingman isn’t always so forthcoming with his kibble, and so we didn’t need to be told twice and dug in with relish.
“Great stuff,” said Dooley. “We should tell Odelia to buy some of this for us, Max.”
“It’s something new. Wilbur got it in last week. Tastes great, doesn’t it?”
I had my mouth full of kibble, so I couldn’t immediately respond, so I simply nodded my agreement. It was, indeed, some pretty good stuff.
“Okay, you twisted my paw. I’ll tell you what’s going on,” suddenly Kingman said. “Wilbur’s found himself a girlfriend, okay? And so now I don’t know what to do. I mean, on the one hand I’m happy for the guy, obviously.”
“Obviously,” I echoed, still savoring the taste of that fine kibble.
“But on the other hand… What if she’s not a friend of cats? And what if this becomes serious and she decides to move in and kick me out?”
It was the eternal dilemma of a cat: some people like cats, such as there are the Pooles, and of course Wilbur Vickery. But others hate cats with a vengeance. And there doesn’t seem to be a position in between. Either it’s a full-blown love affair between man and beast, or it’s an unreasonable hatred that can’t be remedied.
“Who is she?” I asked, much surprised that Wilbur had found himself a girlfriend. The man is like the anti-catnip for women. He repels them, if you see what I mean.
“Oh, some writer he met,” said Kingman.
“A writer?” said Dooley. “I didn’t know Wilbur could read.”
“He can read,” said Kingman, “but he doesn’t believe in books. He feels they’re a waste of time.”
“So how did he land himself a writer girlfriend,” I asked, “if he doesn’t even like reading books?”
“I’m betting he probably lied his ass off and told her he’s some kind of latter-day Shakespeare.”
“He lies to get dates?”
“Always. It only takes one date for them to catch on, though. So it surprised me when he went on his second date last night.” He made a face. “So you understand I wasn’t in the mood to go and listen to Fido’s crazy ramblings, entertaining though they must have been. I was too busy worrying about Wilbur’s date trying to convince him that all cats are evil and need to be chucked out and driven back to hell whence they came. Wilbur had invited her back to our place, you see, and had actually cooked a meal, so that told me things were getting serious. And it wasn’t a disaster either. The man had lit candles, and had cooked a nice lobster dinner for the lady. And I was on my best behavior, of course, hoping to make a good impression and not get kicked out when she moves in.”
“Well, that’s great, Kingman,” I said. “Sounds like a really exciting time for your human, and for you, of course.”
“And it was, until it all went south.”
“Why, what happened?”
“She began by telling Wilbur that she really liked where their relationship was going, and how she thought he was just great, and yadda yadda yadda. And so then they’re on the couch, after dinner, you know, and things start heating up.”
“How did they heat up?” asked Dooley with interest. “Did Wilbur forget to turn down the thermostat?”
“He means they started kissing,” I explained.
“Oh, kissing,” said Dooley, his eyes wide with excitement. “Well, that must have been exciting for you, Kingman, to watch your human kissing!”
“Not so much,” said Kingman dryly. “In fact the moment they started getting hot and heavy I left the room. I just couldn’t watch. And so I decided to jump on the bed and take a nap, figuring at some point the lady would leave. Only suddenly they come barging into the room, and they’re on the bed, and they’re still kissing and breathing heavy and all, and so at this point I’m getting panicky, so I jump off the bed and I’m trying to figure out a spot that’s safe from these crazy kids, but then she pushes Wilbur away, collects herself and says, ‘I’m sorry, Wilbur, but I can’t do this.’”
“Can’t do this?” I asked.
“‘Can’t do this.’ So ‘Huh?’ pretty much sums up Wilbur’s entire reaction, and mine, too, I guess. ‘No, I can’t go through with this,’ she says and abruptly starts buttoning up her blouse, gets up and walks out. Moments later the door slams and Wilbur turns to me and says, ‘What just happened?’ So I gave him a shrug and told him, ‘You struck out, my man.’”
“Maybe she had second thoughts,” I said. “It happens, you know. She thought she liked where things were going, until suddenly she didn’t.”
“Wilbur did mention that the only topic of conversation that seemed to interest her was that Pink Lady. And since he figured she was into diamonds, he’d embellished things a little and had told her during their first date the day before yesterday that he knew all about the Pink Lady. That in fact he was the godfather of the girl that had found the stone on the beach.”
“And is he? Her godfather?”
“Of course not. And I think she got hip to the fact when she mentioned the girl’s name and it didn’t ring a bell with good old Wilbur.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah.”
“So how did they meet?”