Dooley frowned. This all sounded highly suspicious.“So what’s going on?”
“Nothing is going on! Except that it’s obvious to me that my dear Brutus has a highly active imagination.”
Harriet had never referred to Brutus in these clinical terms before. Usually it’s smoochie poo this and snuggle bunny that, but never ‘my dear Brutus.’ Something was definitely going on here, Brutus was right about that. But what?
“Okay, so Brutus is worried,” I said, deciding to play the sympathy card.
“Look, a girl can have her secrets, can’t she?” said Harriet, becoming defensive. “Or don’t you two have secrets to hide?”
“I don’t have any secrets,” I said.
“Me neither,” Dooley chimed in.
Harriet threw her head back and produced a tinkling laugh.“As if!” she cried, when she’d finished her hyena act. “We all have secrets. Isn’t that so, Rufus?”
Rufus seemed uncomfortable.“Well…” he prevaricated.
“Of course you have,” said Harriet. “Like that time you pretended to be someone you were not so you could chat with me. Remember? That was a big secret.”
It hadn’t been Rufus’s finest hour. He’d pretended to be a war veteran, and had connected with Harriet through Pettr, a dating app for pets. “It wasn’t exactly a secret,” Rufus muttered nervously. “Just… a way to make friends, I guess.”
“Or how about you, Max?” said Harriet, turning to me. “Or don’t you think I know that you always eat the first scoops of fresh kibble from the bag?”
I stared at her.“You know about that?” I asked, aghast.
“Of course! The moment Marge opens a new bag, or Odelia, you’re always quick to gobble up those precious first nuggets.”
“They’re the freshest,” I mumbled, my face flushed with embarrassment. Lucky for me nobody could see just how flushed my face was, what with all the blorange fur covering my shamefaced cheeks.
“I know they’re the freshest. Straight out of the bag kibble tastes the best.”
It’s common knowledge amongst cats that the moment kibble has been lying there for a couple of hours it loses some of that precious flavor and that crunch. And the same goes for bags that have been open for a couple of days or weeks.
“Oh, and how about when they open a fresh bag, and you empty all four bowls in quick succession before the rest of us can even get close?”
“First dibs,” I murmured, glancing down to the ground now.
“For a twenty-pound kitty you move pretty fast, Max.”
“I don’t weigh twenty pounds,” I said, glancing up.
“What about my secrets, Harriet?” asked Dooley.
Harriet smiled.“I know for a fact that when Brutus and I first started dating, that you turned our love nest into a lavatory, Dooley,” she said. From Dooley’s quick intake of breath, it was clear she wasn’t lying. “Doo-doo and wee-wee both!”
“I-I’m sorry,” Dooley stammered. “I didn’t think you knew?”
“How could I not know, Dooley? Don’t you think I recognize your scent?”
“I was going through a difficult time,” said Dooley, wide-eyed.
“I know,” said Harriet, softening. “And it’s all right, Dooley.”
Like pretty much the entire Hampton Cove male cat contingent, Dooley had once been fervently in love with Harriet. So when she’d given her heart to an outsider in the form of Brutus, he and the rest of Harriet’s admirers hadn’t been too well pleased. Though I have to admit this business about Dooley doing his business in the rose bushes, where Harriet and Brutus habitually got together, was news to me.
“I’ll never do it again,” said Dooley quietly.
“I know you’ll never do it again,” said Harriet. “In fact you haven’t done it since. The only reason I brought it up is to show you we all have secrets. And that’s fine.”
“I guess so,” I said finally. “And I guess Brutus has his secrets, too.”
Harriet frowned at this.“Brutus doesn’t have any secrets from me.” Her frown deepened. “Does he?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “If I did, it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it?”
She narrowed her eyes at me.“You know something, don’t you, Max?”
“I swear that I don’t,” I said, holding up my paws in a display of innocence.
“What is Brutus’s secret!” she demanded heatedly. “Tell me!”
“But I thought you just said we’re all entitled to our secrets?” asked Dooley.
Harriet’s face worked. “Fine. Be that way. But don’t think this is the end.”
And with these words, she stalked off, tail high in the air, and disappeared through the opening in the fence between the two backyards.
I noticed how Rufus was eyeing me with a flicker of mirth in his mellow brown eyes.“You did that on purpose, didn’t you, Max?” he said finally.
“Did what on purpose?” I asked innocently.
“Suggesting that Brutus has a secret he hasn’t shared with Harriet.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, and gave him a wink.
CHAPTER 8
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With all this drama going on, I didn’t even have time to have another lie-down on my favorite new spot—Odelia’s pillow—until that evening when Brutus finally vacated the premises. But by then Odelia and Chase had returned home, after picking Grace up from daycare, and dinner time rolled around, which involves our humans feeding us first, before feeding themselves—the natural order.
“Is it true that you always eat all four bowls of kibble when Odelia opens a new bag, Max?” asked Dooley as we both tucked into our food.
I nodded, still feeling the sting of shame.“I do that,” I admitted. “It’s just that the first kibble tastes so delicious, fresh out of the bag. There’s simply no substitute.” And besides, the moment Odelia finds our bowls empty, or Marge, they fill them up again. “It’s one of those small pleasures I like to indulge in,” I said.
Though now that my secret was out, I probably wouldn’t do it again. Nor would I get the chance, for my housemates would probably come running when they heard the sound of a fresh bag being opened, and I simply wouldn’t get the chance! I might not weigh twenty pounds, like Harriet seems to think, but it’s true that I’m the big-boned type of feline, and not all that quick off the mark. The only way I’ve been able to get first dibs is because I keep a close eye on those bags, so I know when a bag is almost empty, and the time has come to open a new one.
“You can eat from my bowl any time, Max,” said Dooley magnanimously. “I don’t mind.”
“Thanks, Dooley,” I said, giving my friend a grateful look. “I didn’t know that Harriet knew, though.”
“I didn’t know she knew about me doing my business in those rose bushes,” said Dooley. “If I’d known I probably wouldn’t have done it.”
“Water under the bridge now,” I said, my mouth full of delicious wet food.
“Wee-wee under the rose bushes,” Dooley murmured thoughtfully. “Do you think it’s true, though, what Harriet said? That all cats have secrets?”
“I guess so,” I said.
“I wonder what Harriet’s secret is.”
“Probably that she’s having an affair with Kingman.”
We were both silent as we ruminated on the consequences of this affair. Brutus was our dear friend, but so was Kingman. But if Harriet shifted her affections from the former to the latter, we might have to choose between the two. Not unlike a couple getting a divorce. They divide their worldly belongings, like the house they shared, or the furniture. But they also end up dividing their friends, since it’s hard to stay friends with both, especially if the divorce is acrimonious. I just hoped we wouldn’t have to choose between Brutus and Kingman. Though if we had to, we’d probably choose Brutus, since he’s the most muscular one of the two of them, and would beat us up if we chose Kingman.
Having fed her cats, Odelia now proceeded to feed Grace, while Chase made inroads in dinner prep for himself and his wife. Gran was also joining us, since she usually ate dinner with her daughter and son-in-law, who were away from home.