CHAPTER ONE

A pack of dogs raced around the corner of the building. The leader skidded to a stop in front of the limp raccoon and sniffed it carefully.

“I think…” he said.

“We think! We think!” The rest of the pack echoed him enthusiastically.

It’s difficult to listen to a pack of dogs. Only one ever speaks. The rest just repeat whatever the first one says.

“It was the cat,” said the leader triumphantly.

“The cat! It was the cat! The cat!”

“To the barn!” howled the leader.

“To the barn! The barn! Barn! Barn! Barn!”

They were gone. I heard them yelping inside the huge barn. The noise echoed off the metal walls and rolled around the empty stalls. I could see the cat sleeping in the side window of the house. Stupid dogs.

The raccoon opened one eye, looked around cautiously, then grinned at me. I flicked my tail nonchalantly and allowed an answering grin to spread across my face.

“C&R - 401,” I said smugly. “Dogs - zero.”

The raccoon got up and we sauntered across the yard. Right in the middle, we stopped. Rocky rolled around, spreading his smell everywhere. My contribution was a mouse. I put it in the exact center of the scent circle Rocky had made. Then we left. I had a few errands to run and Rocky wanted to take a nap. It was pointless to wait for the dogs to return. They would ramble around, snuffling and digging and generally making a nuisance of themselves until they forgot what they were looking for. It could take hours. First, though, I jumped onto the windowsill and woke up the cat.

“What do you want now?” he asked, opening one eye sleepily.

“Just wanted to let you in on a surprise, Bruno,” I replied. “Watch the dogs when they get back. We left them a present.”

Bruno yawned and turned his back on me. But I wasn’t offended. We cats stick together. Bruno may be a bit snooty, but he likes tormenting dogs as well as the rest of us. If I didn’t make it back in time to watch them myself, Bruno would tell me all about it.

CHAPTER TWO

It was noon the next day when I staggered out of my bed and over to my bowl. It was empty, as usual. I don’t know why they never learn, but somehow these people have it in their heads that I don’t eat breakfast. I can’t imagine why they think that; surely it’s not just because I’m never awake in the morning. They are very good about filling the bowl up every night, though, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain too much. I tried a pathetic yowl at the door, but no response. Oh well. I could pick up bite or two on my way into town.

Everyone must have woken up in an evil mood. The butcher just scowled at me when I asked politely for a few scraps. The boy from the corner store threw a rock at me. Even my old standby, Miss Faithful herself, brandished a broom at me. Far be it from me to sulk, but I was in a decidedly nasty mood by the time I’d reached Caster’s house. He, at least, was his normal generous self and invited me in for a snack. Yum! I sometimes make fun of Caster for being old and fat and lazy, but with a steady diet of that kind of grub, I could get fat myself. Maybe even lazy. Never old though. Not me.

Caster and I had a pleasant chat. I told him all about our latest escapade. Caster doesn’t get out much, and I figure it’s only fair I tell him all the news in return for that lovely food he shares with me. Besides, I get to enjoy the fun of the deed all over again every time I tell someone.

“You boys.” Caster twitched his tail. “Always up to something. I remember when I was young, we always thought we had the world on a string.” He yawned. “Speaking of dogs, I saw the strangest looking dog the other day.”

I was properly astounded. No, really, I was. It astonished me that Caster ever saw anything besides the four walls of his house.

“It was several tails high,” Caster continued. “And floppy.”

“Floppy?” I asked.

“Mmm, yes. That is the best I can describe it. Floppy.”

Now my curiosity was sparked. What kind of dog was floppy?

“Where did you see this dog, Caster?” I asked. Maybe I should check it out. It certainly wouldn’t do to have a new dog on the loose. Definitely it was my responsibility to look it over and see if it was dangerous. I know it’s hard to believe, since most of them are just inept fools, but I have actually met one or two dogs that could be considered dangerous.

“I went out to take a nap in the sun,” Caster replied. “And it was riding by in the back of a car. It went that way, I believe.” He pointed. I looked. All I saw, of course, was the door, but I was sure I could remember the proper direction once I got back outside.

“Well, I must be off,” I said. “Thanks again for the lunch.”

“Anytime, my boy. Always glad to share.” Caster shut his eyes.

I trotted down the road in the direction he had indicated, paying sharp attention to my nose. A dog chase, I thought happily to myself. Just the thing to fill up the afternoon.

CHAPTER THREE

It’s a good thing I have a naturally keen sense of smell, not to mention hearing. Otherwise I could have been trampled. As it was, I barely had time to leap to safety when my old friends the dogs came roaring down the middle of the lane hot on the trail of some other non-existent foe. From my vantage point in the tree, I watched the dogs scramble around underneath me.

“We’ve treed it!”

“Treed it! Treed it! Treed it!”

Not again, I though. I really am going to have to invest in a pair of earplugs. I wonder what they think they’ve treed this time. And how long I’m going to have to wait around here until they get bored and go away.

I looked around me, but I couldn’t see anyone else in the tree. Smart. If I can’t see them, the dogs certainly can’t. And if dogs can’t see who they’re chasing, they’re that much easier to distract. Just then the noise below me jumped several decibles.

“There he is! The cat!”

“There! There! The cat! The cat! There!”

Wait a minute. Cat? They were talking about me? Of all the nerve! I merely jumped up into this tree to keep from getting covered with dust. And to prevent a few inconvenient new holes in my hide. How dare they insinuate they’d chased me here?

I had to get out of there in a hurry. It was bad enough that those dogs were making enough noise to raise the dead. I didn’t even want to contemplate how embarrassing it would be if anyone came along and saw me. Well. Let no one say I am a coward. A quick drop down, a few lightening scrapes with the claws and straight out through the pack. Definitely that would be the best way.

I glanced over the edge of my branch in preparation for the jump. Then I had to pry my claws from their centimeter-deep grip on the tree, and take several deep breaths to calm myself and flatten my fur. I flatter myself that I can take danger as serenely as anyone, but really! No one could expect to remain calm with THAT shoved in their face. I slowly washed my face and patted down every hair on my body. Then I looked down again. This time the sight of (and worse, the smell of!) a slavering, slobbering mouth full of filthy teeth three inches from my nose didn’t faze me. It’s all in what you’re expecting. The shock of the thing was what threw me the first time.

Still, maybe jumping straight down wasn’t the best idea after all. I sat back to regroup. Then I had an idea. Subtlety. That was the thing.

“Hey, Bozo!” I called sweetly. Bozo is the leader. He’s the only one worth talking to. The rest just drool if you try to indulge in a little casual conversation.

“Whaddya want, cat!” growled Bozo.

“Want cat! Cat! Cat! Cat!”

Brother!

“Nothing, really,” I said. “Just wondered how you were doing. Found yourself a girlfriend yet?”

“No.” He sounded a little disgusted.

“No! No! NoNoNoNo!”

“Too bad. I can see how that might be a problem for you.” And could I ever! His idea of personal hygiene usually involved several dead skunks. No wonder females avoided him!

“Stop yapping and get to the point.”

“Point! Point! Point!”

Yapping! I was insulted!

“Just for that, I won’t tell you what she said.” I made a big show of turning my back.

“What who said?” Bozo asked suspiciously.

“Who said! Who said! Who! Who! Who!”

Now they sounded like owls. Dogs!

“No one.” I sniffed a little and tried to sound hurt.

“Aw come on. You did say she, didn’t you? Who’s she?”

“She! She! She!”

“SHUT UP!!” Bozo snarled at the other dogs.

Blessed silence. I peeked over my shoulder. It was a sight to gladden the heart. Every single dog was cowering and cringing, and (best of all) quiet!

“Nobody, really,” I said. “You probably wouldn’t be interested.”

“Aw come on, pal,” whined Bozo. “Tell me. You know I’d do the same for you.”

As if I needed his help! But I figured the psychological moment had arrived.

“Down by the river,” I said. “There’s this cute little Golden Retriever…”

As the dogs tore back down the road, I calmly descended from my tree.

CHAPTER FOUR

A few hours later, I still hadn’t found the floppy-looking dog. I was beginning to wonder if Caster had completely lost his mind. There was still one place to look before I started bringing him memory-enhancement herbs, though.

I stopped outside the broken gate. The yard on the other side was a mess. Blackberry vines hung in thick tangles from the trees. All the shrubs were overgrown and the grass didn’t look like it had ever been cut. In short, it was a cat’s paradise. I almost started drooling at the thought of all those fat little luscious mice that were undoubtedly just waiting for dinnertime. But I caught myself. Never let it be said that I put my own selfish pleasures above my duty. First, I had to find that dog.

Whiskers quivering, I picked my way through the jungle. I knew the dog, if it was here, had to be inside. If it had been in the yard, I would have smelled it. I stopped several times to sniff the air delicately. There was a faint odor of dog, but nothing recent. In spite of myself, I began to get excited. I could see a broken window just to the left of the porch railing. I was sure I could fit through the small hole. I sidled along the back porch and gathered myself for the leap. No point in making further plans until I saw the layout inside.

Glass scraped my ribs as I squeezed through the narrow opening. I paused a minute to let my eyes adjust to the darkness before I jumped down. There was a shelf just below me. I’d go there first, then to the floor. I jumped. The shelf was covered with something strange. It felt gritty on my paws, like sand. I sniffed a paw cautiously and was nearly killed as I blew myself backwards off the edge. I landed with a horrible clatter and sneezed again. And again. And again. It was awful! I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t even think. All I could do was crouch there on the floor and sneeze. When I could finally breathe again, I noticed that it was noticeably lighter in the room. Perhaps the sun was…

“Rex! There’s a CAT in my pantry! Sic ‘em!”

I split. Out the door and between the legs of the human. I ran as fast as I’d ever run in my life. I skidded through another doorway and made a leap for the mantle. It was a little crowded, but I barely noticed as I streaked down its length and onto a table on the far side of the room. The table teetered alarmingly, and I made a leap for the window before I noticed it was closed. It’s a good thing I have a hard head. That really hurt. I risked a glance behind me and promptly shot down the hallway. The human had acquired a broom and was shrieking like a banshee right behind me. Halfway down the hall were some stairs. I made a screeching right turn and tore up them. I was almost to the top when I found the dog.

CHAPTER FIVE

This is so humiliating, I thought to myself.

“Good boy, Rex,” cooed a soft voice above me. “Good dog. Did you catch the nasty wicked pussy cat then? What a good dog!”

I squeezed my eyes shut a little tighter. I couldn’t shut my nose, though, and the odors that drifted my way made me even more miserable. She was feeding that repulsive dog caviar. And something that smelled like lobster.

I felt like puking.

Visions of my impending mortification drifted through my head. I would be an outcast. I’d probably have to leave town. For sure, I’d never dare show my face outside my own front porch. Caught by a dog! Me! Even if I got away now, I knew it would spread all over town by evening. What dog could keep this kind of triumph to itself? And beyond that, why would it even want to? I’d never live it down. I groaned a little in sheer misery.

Evidently, I’d made a little more noise than I thought, because the cooing stopped and something large grabbed the back of my neck. Normally, I hate it when they do that. I look so stupid with my legs dangling. It’s undignified. But now I didn’t even care. Who would care about looks when they were shortly to be laughed out of the only home they’d ever known?

“And what to do with you, now, hmmm? I suppose you probably belong somewhere. You aren’t quite scrawny enough to be a stray.”

Scrawny! My beautiful physique! I wondered if I could possibly arrange to give her tetanus.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to put you in Rex’s room while I call around. If I can’t find who you belong to, you’ll have to go to the pound.”

The pound! Things were getting worse and worse. I barely noticed when she opened a door and dropped me on the floor. I just lay huddled in the corner and wished I was dead.

A few moments later, I heard a kind of clicking, scrabbling noise. It got closer. Then a cold, slimy nose poked me in the ear and snorted!

I screamed. Then I tried to climb the wall. My earlier exertions had really taken it out of me, though, because I barely made it halfway up before I slid into a pathetic little lump in the corner. The dog (loathsome beast) sat right in front of me. I couldn’t even come up with enough energy to spit at him.

“Stop glaring at me like that,” said the dog.

I didn’t bother to reply.

“It wasn’t my fault. What possessed you to break in here in the first place? And you just made things worse by smashing everything in sight. I always thought cats were a little smarter than that.”

“I didn’t break in,” I said indignantly. “The window was open.” Well it was! Sort of.

The dog just looked at me. I stared back. Haughtily, I hoped.

“My name’s Rex,” he said finally.

“Pat.”

“Nice to meet you, Pat.”

“Sorry I can’t say the same,” I replied. “And besides, I didn’t break anything on purpose. I was a little upset.”

I was beginning to feel better, and my naturally upbeat personality was reasserting itself. I stretched gingerly and yawned, covertly watching the dog the entire time. Caster was right. He did look floppy. It was his hair, mostly. It was really long and kind of silky. And it had these weird patches of color all over that gave him a sort of rippling effect.

Maybe I could come up with a really scathing comment to get him riled. I mean really. He was trapped in the same room as me, and he couldn’t get away. It was an opportunity I couldn’t waste. Was I not the best dog-baiter in town?

“So,” I drawled. “How come you’re stuck in here all the time? Too chicken to go outside and get your pretty coat all messed up?”

“Don’t bother trying out your petty little insults on me, cat.” The doglaid down and put his head on his paws. “I was wiping the streets with better cats than you before you got your little baby-blue eyes open.”

That made me mad. I bristled up my fur until I was twice my normal size. One deep breath and I let her rip. My famous no-holds barred, guaranteed to scare full-grown grizzlies, Apache war-cry. I started off with a snarling growl, caterwauled up through several octaves and finished off with a full-throated shriek. The dog didn’t even blink. Now I was really riled. I leapt for his head, intending to rip his ears to shreds and claw his eyes out. I didn’t make it halfway through my leap. The dog batted me out of the air with one paw and sent me skidding across the floor into the wall. I tried to somersault off and back into the fray, but my body mutinied. My legs refused to move. The dog got up and ambled over to me.

“Truce?” he asked.

I stared blearily up at him. It’s very difficult to focus on things with your eyes crossed. For some reason, he seemed to have acquired a few extra noses.

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “Truce.”

Then I passed out.

CHAPTER SIX

There was an army of woodpeckers drilling a hole in my brain, and an entire pack of dogs howling in my ear. The noise rolled around the room a few times, echoing off the walls and setting up harmonic resonances in the windows.

Why, oh why did I ever think this was a good idea? From here on out, I’m swearing off dogs completely. Entirely, even. Oh, my aching head!

The noise resolved itself into recognizable words.

“Get up. We have to go now.”

I wasn’t so incapacitated that I missed noticing that!

“We?” I croaked. “Nothing about this is a ‘we’ proposition.”

“Do you want out of here or not?” It was Rex and he was sounding just a little impatient. “The window’s open and She just left. It’s now or never, and in the shape you’re in, you won’t be getting out of here without me.”

I hated to admit it, but he was making a small amount of sense.

“All right,” I groaned. “Since you put it that way. Lead on.”

Rex walked over to the window and reared up. He was considerable bigger than I’d noticed, although I had been a trifle distracted at the time. His paws rested on the window sill quite easily.

“Climb up on me,” he said gruffly. “And don’t even think about sticking those claws in!”

“But how will you get out?” I asked. I mean we were partners. Sort of. For the moment.

“I’ll jump. Now climb.”

I climbed.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Ok,” I said. “We’re out. Have a nice life; don’t call me, I’ll call you; the check’s in the mail; I’m sure you get the picture.” I started off.

“Just a minute,” Rex rumbled. “You’re out of there, right?”

“Yes,” I said warily.

“And I helped you, right?”

“Yes…”

“So you owe me.”

Great! In debt to a dog! I should never had gotten out of bed this morning. I spared a small moment to heap deprecations on Caster’s head; it was all his fault I was in this mess in the first place. Then I tried to cheer myself up. There must be a limit to all this madness. I mean, surely, there’s a worst to end all worsts and then things get better. Don’t you think so? And I must be at the absolute bottom of worsts, so things just have to start looking up any minute now. This can’t be too bad. Maybe he just wants directions into town. Or even, I shuddered, an introduction to Bozo. I can do that. Queasily, true, but still - it could be accomplished.

“Fine,” I said resignedly. “What do you want?”

“A tour,” he said.

I stared at him. Maybe I’d heard him wrong. That bang on the noggin couldn’t have done my ears any favors. I patted them gently, just to make sure. Everything seemed ok.

“What?” I said.

“You heard me. A tour. T-O-U-R, tour. A journey from place to place; excursion, to visit while travelling. And you can introduce me around while you’re at it.”

I turned numbly towards the garden gate. I’d been wrong. Things could still get worse, no matter how bad you’d thought them only moments previously. Still, there was nothing for it. If it hadn’t been for his assistance, I’d still be stuck in that house, at the tender mercies of a human who had obviously never struck up an acquaintance with the word ‘mercy’. I did owe him, repugnant as the idea was. I might as well get it over with.

We walked along the road towards the main part of town. I’ll take him to see Caster, first, I thought. Maybe, just maybe, the two of them will hit it off and I’ll be off the hook. Ok, so it was fairly unlikely, read practically impossible, but a guy needs some hope in his life.

I knocked on Caster’s door. Wonder of wonders, he was in. Actually, that wasn’t really a wonder - Caster’s always in - the true wonder was that he was awake.

“I want to introduce you to someone, Caster,” I said listlessly.

“Really, dear boy? Very well, just a moment, I’m just finishing off this salmon paste.”

A few minutes later Caster stuck his head outside.

“My, my,” he said. “You are a big one, aren’t you?”

He turned his head my way and said, in what he fondly regarded as a whisper, “I told you he was floppy, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Caster,” I sighed. “You did. You were right. You always are. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a largish bit of town to cover and I’d like to get on with it.”

“Don’t be so hasty,” Caster said. “You haven’t actually done the introducing yet, you know. I am right in presuming that this is the someone you were referring to?”

“Right. Sorry. Rex, Caster. Caster, Rex. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll be going.”

“Rex, hmmm. Of royal blood?”

“No, actually, although one of my ancestors was nearly knighted for bravery above and beyond the call of duty.”
“Really? Might one presume to ask what deed occasioned that?”

“One might.”

I gave Rex as searching a look as might be expected from one in my depressed spirits, which wasn’t very searching. But even I could tell that he was hiding a smile, although he certainly sounded solemn enough.

Rex relented after a moment. “He saved the prince’s pet lamb from being deprived of its health by a marauding weasel. The King had the knighthood nearly ratified by Parliament when the Queen Mother talked him out of it.”

Caster shook his head gravely. “A pity,” he said. “A very great pity. Why I myself…”

I stopped listening. Contrary to all my expectations, it did seem as though they might be going on a good while, and I just wasn’t in the mood. Caster, lovely fellow as he is, will go on about genealogy and history and ancestors with no provocation whatsoever. It was his favorite subject, second only to food, and well, sleep, and Rex had given him the perfect opening. I limped over to a cushion, curled up and brooded.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Several decades later, Caster and Rex finished up their tete-a-tete. Rex turned to me.

“Shall we be going?” he asked.

I dragged myself off of my cushion and said goodbye to Caster. I’m not sure he heard me, he was already snoring, but one should observe these little proprieties. Otherwise, one is little better than a brute beast. Or Bozo, for that matter. Ugh. What a horrible thought!

“Certainly,” I said drearily. “Let us be off.”

I wasn’t sure where to go next. But since all places were alike in approaching degradation, I supposed it didn’t really matter.

“Any place in particular you want to see?” I asked gloomily.

“No. Not really. I haven’t been out of that house since we moved here, and I like to keep up on my surroundings.”

Well, Main Street, I guess, I thought. Then we might as well go down to the river. Maybe I could avoid my house entirely. I shuddered to think what Rocky would have to say if he saw me consorting with the enemy. He might just decide to break up our partnership entirely. Well, I couldn’t blame him. How can you trust a fellow spy once he’s been captured? For all you know, he might have been brainwashed into switching sides, and only be coming back to catch you!

“This is Main Street.” I told Rex. “The butcher’s shop is right over there. The man who runs it usually gives me a few scraps if I ask nicely, but I don’t know how he feels about dogs. That store on the corner is generally good for a little tidbit as well, and the lady who lives in that house almost always sets stuff out on her back step.”

“Are there any other dogs in town? Or just cats?”

I ignored his sarcasm. “Yes, there’s a bunch of dogs. They run in a pack most of the time. The leader is named Bozo. All of them are pretty much blithering idiots. But that’s just my opinion, of course. I daresay we’ll run into them sooner or later and I can introduce you.”

“No. I don’t want to be introduced. I expect your opinion of them is right. I’ve found that describes most dogs I’ve met, although there are a few noticeable exceptions. Myself, for one.”

What an ego. I did have to admit he was unlike any other dog of my acquaintance, though. Not that I want to claim acquaintanceship with a bunch of dogs, but you know what I mean. And speaking of blithering idiots, I could hear the dogs barking in the distance.

“I think you’re going to get introduced to them whether you like it or not,” I said. “They appear to be heading this way.”

Rex sat down in the middle of the alley. I looked around for an appropriate place to sit - so I could annoy them without being annoyed myself if you get my drift - but my heart wasn’t in it. In the end, I just sat down next to Rex and waited.

“Aha! There you are!”

“That’s Bozo,” I told Rex.

“Are! Are! Are!”

“And those are the blitherers?” he asked.

“Right.”

Bozo advanced on me menacingly.

“What do you mean by sending me off on some dumb hunt like that? Nobody on the river has ever heard of a Golden Retriever of any kind, much less a girl! I’m going to tear you to shreds, cat!”

“Cat! Cat! CatCatCat!”

I shrugged. “Whatever,” I said, in as bored a tone as I could manage. “But you’ll have to wait. Rex, Bozo. Bozo, this is Rex - he’s just moved to town and I’m giving him a tour. Perhaps when we’re finished, you can do your shredding. If you can catch me, which I doubt.”

Bozo was torn. It was a sight to see, and it even made me feel incrementally less despondent. He couldn’t decide whether to tear into me right then and there, or to give into his curiosity about Rex, and he positively shook with frustration.

Rex made up his mind for him.

“Golden Retriever?” he asked politely.

Bozo snarled. “She’s mine!”

“If I can ever find her, that is,” he added.

He turned to me. “Now tell me the truth! Or Rex here will have to find a new guide. Where did you see that Retriever, and exactly what did she say?”

I yawned.

“Really, Bozo, I don’t see why you think I should tell you that. After all those nasty things you’ve been saying about me.”

I’ve never seen a dog foam at the mouth. It was something to see, I’ll tell you. I don’t recommend it for the feeble of heart.

“Retriever?” Rex asked again.

“There isn’t one,” I told him disdainfully. “I made it up. Bozo and his hounds were annoying me and I wanted them to go away.”

Rex got a decided twinkle in his eye.

“Really,” he said. “Pat, I’m shocked at you. How could you treat these worthy dogs in such a despicable manner? And I’ve asked you to be my guide? What could I have been thinking? Perhaps this noble fellow, Bolo, did you say his name was? Perhaps I could presume upon his kindness...” He looked at Bozo enquiringly. Bozo looked back at him, completely clueless. I could have told Rex that wouldn’t work. Oh, the nobles and worthies were working very nicely, but Bozo isn’t one of your mental geniuses. Hints go right over his head.

Rex noticed this almost at once. He changed his tactics.

“Bolo,” he said. I watched in fascination.

“Bolo, would you be so gracious as to guide me around the notable sites of this most wondrous village?”

“It’s Bozo,” growled Bozo.

“Oh, pardon me. Bobo.”

“BOZO!” Bozo shrieked.

“My goodness, I must need a checkup.” Rex tittered. “How silly of me. Bozo, of course. Will you free me from the dreadful company of this cat and give me a tour? We’ve been down Main Street, but nowhere else, yet.”

Bozo simpered. I had never heard a dog simper. It kind of turned my stomach, to be honest. But then nearly everything about Bozo turns my stomach, so maybe that isn’t so surprising.

Rex and Bozo went off down the alley. The other dogs swarmed after them, making a racket about nothing, as usual. I waited a few minutes to give them a proper head start, then followed.

I’d waited a little too long, though. Or maybe Rex just didn’t believe in wasting time, because when I caught up, he was sitting on the bank of the river laughing. Bozo and company were nowhere in sight.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Oh, I told them that the Good Dog Fairy lives in the river in a palace of moldy bones, and they’re all swimming around down there trying to see how long they can hold their breaths.”

I was proud to be his friend. I really was. This was a dog who was a credit to his race.

“Come on,” I said. “There’s this raccoon I want to introduce you to.”