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“Oh, hey, Max, Dooley,” said the Maine Coon. “Well, as you can see there’s something seriously wrong in the world of hair.”

“Has this got something to do with the whole…”

“Flat Earth Society thing? Yeah, I think so. Fido has been going around trying to recruit new members, and this is what happened: people are staying away and going someplace else.”

“But where are they going? Fido is the best hairdresser there is.”

“My best bet would be the mall,” said Buster. “One of those places where they whack off your hair for a couple of bucks. Clearly anything is better than to have to listen to Fido’s ramblings.”

“But… does he really believe all that stuff?” I asked, glancing up at the hirsute maestro, now temporarily out of work.

“Oh, yeah. In fact he’s just accepted a position as the head of LIFES, the Long Island Flat Earth Society. His mission, should he choose to accept it, and of course he has, the doofus, is to build a vibrant community of flat earthlings and make Hampton Cove their Long Island headquarters.”

“We have to do something, Max,” said Dooley. “If this keeps up Fido will go out of business, and Buster will be homeless.”

“I don’t think it’ll come to that,” I assured my friend. And Buster, too, of course, for the latter looked more than a little worried now that his human had gone off the deep end.

“We have to convince Fido that the earth is round,” said Buster. “But how?”

“Well, just like Max suggested,” said Dooley. “We need to take him on a trip around the world, and then when he discovers that he didn’t fall off, but that he simply returned here, he’ll know that this flat earth stuff is stuff and nonsense.”

“We can’t simply take the man on a trip around the world, Dooley,” I said, once again engaging in a discussion I frankly never thought I’d have to get into—twice! “Like I already explained to you, it’s going to take months, and we don’t have the time.” Or the money. I don’t think traveling the world comes cheap nowadays, what with inflation and everything. Christopher Columbus had Ferdinand and Isabella to sponsor his expeditions, but who was going to hand us coffers full of Spanish gold? “Look, all we need to do is to ask Odelia or Marge or even Gran to reason with the man. I mean, how hard can it be to talk some sense into him?”

A man had wandered into the shop, rubbing his head, and clearly in the market for a haircut.“Wow, this is a first,” he said as he glanced around at the empty chairs. “Can I…” He gestured to the chair Fido reserves for the customers ready to be divested of their surplus of hair.

“Please,” said Fido, perking up now that he was once again requested to ply his trade. With a flourish he tied a barber cloth in front of his customer, tucked a protective strip along the man’s neckline and, smiling a pleasant smile, said, “Have you ever wondered, Gerald, about the possibility that we’ve all been fed a bunch of lies since time immemorial?”

“Oh, sure,” said Gerald, shifting a little in his chair and making himself comfortable. “All you need to do is turn on the television and watch a couple of those political debates.”

“I’m actually referring to the fact that the earth is flat, Gerald, not round the way we’ve always been told.”

Gerald frowned. This clearly wasn’t the direction he thought the conversation would go. “Flat?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”

“The planet is flat, Gerald,” said Fido, not wasting time coming to the point. “Flat as a pancake.”

“Huh. Is that a fact?”

“It is! Only you didn’t know that, did you?”

“I sure didn’t,” said Gerald, directing a bewildered look at the hair master who was patting his client’s head in that preparatory ritual favored by hairdressers the world over.

“I’ll give you a flyer,” said Fido confidentially, as he picked up a flyer from a stack he had lying next to the sink and the hair products he liked to apply. He handed the piece of paper to Gerald. “Everything you need to know is right there,” he whispered conspiratorially.

“Um…” said Gerald as he helplessly glanced at the flyer, then stole a quick look at the door.

“Read it and weep,” said Fido. “And then join us tonight at the meeting.”

“The meeting?”

“I’m organizing the first-ever meeting of the Long Island branch of the Flat Earth Society. I’m the president,” he added proudly as he took out his pair of scissors and snipped the air a couple of times for good measure. “Now how do you want your hair done, Gerald? The usual?”

But Gerald, whose face had adopted a pinched look, suddenly rose from the chair, ripped off the barber cloth and collar, and said,“I—I totally forgot but I—I have someplace I need to be. Right now!” And then he was hurrying for the door.

“Gerald?” asked Fido as he stood there, frozen. “Gerald, where are you going?”

“I’m sorry, Fido! Gotta run!”

“You forgot your flyer!” Fido yelled after the man. But Gerald was gone, his excess hair flapping in the breeze.