Chez Stinky (9 page)

Linus bounded out from behind the house to greet Kat as she got out of her car. “Hi, Big Guy. Let’s go find everybody else.”

As she walked, she looked up at the tree canopy. The nervous feeling drained from her body as she drank in the calming energy of the forest. The wind whispered through leaves of the aspens, making them quiver and ripple like an ocean of greenery. She smelled the fragrance of Ponderosa pine wafting up from below as her too-white Keds crunched through the bed of pine needles.

Linus was joined by Lori and the pair trotted happily alongside Kat as they went over to the outbuilding that Kat now thought of as the Tessa Hut. Tessa started barking as she heard them approach. Here was the first test: not getting knocked over or dragged on her face by the spastic, nutso dog.

Kat grabbed the leash that was hanging on a nail by the doorway. Tessa was in her indoor enclosure, leaping up and down as if she were on a trampoline. Her head was bobbing up near the top of the six-foot chain-link fence. Kat had to admit the bounce factor was impressive for such a petite golden retriever. Kat stopped in front of the gate, considering how best to extract the rambunctious dog from the enclosure before the animal could vanish off into the forest.

Steeling herself for the onslaught, Kat unlatched the gate, pushed it open, and quickly slammed it closed behind her. Tessa’s piercing barks rang in her ears and the dog’s claws bounced off Kat as the wild, jumping dervish seemed to surround her. Remembering the technique she had learned in the book, Kat focused on the dog’s jumping rhythm and as soon as the dog’s front paws hit Kat’s body, she reached out and grabbed them. She said, “Tessa NO!” walked a few steps forward so Tessa was going backwards, and then threw the dog’s feet to the ground.

Tessa stopped and looked confused by what had just happened. Undaunted, she leaped up on Kat again. Kat repeated the process, grabbed Tessa’s paws, and threw the dog’s feet to the ground again with a firm “No.” The dog started to jump again, but seemed to change her mind and paused for a moment. Kat took advantage of the moment of inactivity and said “Tessa, SIT!” with as much authority as she could muster. The dog placed her rear on the ground for a nanosecond, which was long enough for Kat to quickly clip on the leash. With Tessa secured, Kat gripped the leash tightly and opened the gate.

Glimpsing freedom, Tessa started dragging Kat toward the forest trail. As Kat struggled to hold onto the leash with both hands, keep up with the dog, and not fall on her face, she opted to try another technique from the book. Leaning back, she dug in her heels, turned around, and began walking in the opposite direction. Tessa had no choice but to follow. Every time the dog pulled, Kat zigged and zagged, so she was going the opposite direction. Undaunted by the circuitous progress, Tessa kept pulling and pulling and pulling. The muscles in Kat’s arms started to ache and she was rapidly approaching full-body exhaustion. Recalling Cindy’s words about Tessa’s energy level, she choked back a sob of frustration. She’d never be able to tire this animal out, unless she trained to be a marathon runner. And that was unlikely.

Kat knew her physiology was not built for long-distance running or any other hard-core exercise. Although she was healthy, slender, and in reasonably decent shape, a jockette she definitely was not. About a half-hour into her few jogging or running experiments, she’d be gasping for air and end up collapsing in a heap with a stabbing side cramp. With the exception of these few notable forays into fitness, Kat’s body generally returned to its comfortable default state of slight flabbiness.

After Tessa had relieved herself, Kat decided the walk was good enough and turned around. She got Tessa back into the enclosure with relatively little incident, but Kat’s muscles were quivering, her ears were ringing, and she had a strong desire for a nap. Preferably in a silent room with no barking dogs located within a 20-mile radius. But Kat couldn’t nap yet. The next trick was to cajole Chelsey out of the house.

Kat walked around to the back of the house to the basement entrance and went inside. Just as she had been yesterday, Chelsey was peering out from her bed under the table. Kat flopped down and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the dog. “Hi, Chelsey. It’s me again. And Tessa totally wore me out. How do you feel about just cooperating? I’d appreciate it.”

She reached out to pet Chelsey. The dog looked mildly surprised, but didn’t move. Chelsey seemed to be some type of Australian shepherd mix and she had mastered the icy glare of a herding dog. It suggested to Kat that perhaps the dog wasn’t sure about this human that kept invading her space. However, Kat continued to stroke the soft, brown fur on Chelsey’s neck. The dog moved a few inches toward Kat on her bed, so Kat could scratch her back, too. Kat could feel the muscles in Chelsey’s back start to relax. Even better,
she
was calmer too. It was relaxing to just sit and pet Chelsey’s soft, warm fur. After all the exertion with Tessa, her heart had finally stopped racing.

Once Chelsey was no longer giving her the evil eye, Kat put a kibble treat in her hand. Chelsey furrowed her brow and looked a bit worried, but ultimately decided that anyone who would sit around and give her a back rub was probably okay. She snarfed up the kibble and gazed expectantly at Kat, obviously hoping for another handout. Kat quietly clipped the leash on Chelsey, stood up and said, “Let’s go.” Chelsey looked dubious for a moment, then stood up and toddled along beside Kat as the pair exited the building.

It was a relaxing walk through the forest; once Chelsey was on the leash and mobile, she was a model canine citizen. When they returned, Chelsey looked somewhat perkier post-walk, but still retreated to her bed under the table. Kat started to turn to leave when an ear-splitting noise came from upstairs. The deafening screech of some type of saw was grinding away on something. Chelsey scuttled farther back in her bed and Kat ran up the stairs to see what was going on.

She reached the top of the stairs and discovered an older man wearing a blaze orange cap in the living room. Wielding a large red machine with a long serrated blade, he turned and raised his eyebrows when he saw Kat. He turned off the saw and waited for it to wind down.

When the saw fell silent, he said, “Lord, you scared the stuffing outta me! Where did you come from, sweetheart?”

Kat said, “I’m not your sweetheart. I own this place. I’m guessing you must be Bud?”

“Yep, that’s me and this here is Martha. She’s the best goddang jibber-jabber saw you’ll ever find.” Bud caressed the saw and gazed at it lovingly.

Disturbed by the man’s somewhat unnatural attachment to power tools, Kat replied, “Are you using Martha to remove the smell in the house? Because it still seriously stinks up here.”

“Yes, ma’am. And I’m getting there! Martha’s gonna get that varmint. She’s a varmint-huntin’ machine, Martha is. Just you wait. She’s gonna get ‘im.”

“Do you think the smell will be gone by tomorrow?” Kat did not want to witness exactly whatever Bud and his cohort Martha had to do to make the varmint and the smell go away. She was going to feed the animals and get the heck out of here.

“I’m gonna git ‘er done. That’s my whole plan for the day. Nuthin’ else. I’ll lock up when I leave. And little lady, I give you my word on my blessed grandma’s Bible that I’ll have that stink outta here no matter how long it takes.”

As Kat went back downstairs to feed the dogs, she hoped he was right.

Later that evening after Kat had returned to the Enchanted Moose, Bud called to report that he and Martha had in fact been successful in removing “the varmint” from the wall. With the source of the stink removed, Kat decided to check out of the Moose and move into Chez Stinky. It was time to introduce Murphee to the Chez Stinky clan. Kat was anxious about Murphee’s reaction to the move, not to mention another battle about the kitty carrier.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Kat woke up and looked around. Murphee was not in her usual spot on the bed next to her. Peering under the bed, she discovered that Murphee was in the exact center of the floor under the box spring. The cat’s eyes glowed and she was in a crouch, poised to run if necessary. How did the cat know that tomorrow it would be time for another trip in the Evil Kitty Carrier of Doom? Was she psychic?

Kat rolled onto her back and sighed. She could tell by the determined set of the cat’s jaw that the grumpy feline was going to do her utmost to avoid being caught. Fortunately, Kat had the ultimate defense: food. She got up, picked up the kitty food bowl, hid it in the closet, and went back to sleep.

When Kat woke up, she turned on her side and was pleased to note that Murphee was out from under the bed and was wandering around the motel room looking for her food bowl. Plaintive meows filled the room as Murphee loudly explained that there had been a disastrous turn of events and she was likely to starve.

With a phony smile, Kat said, “Gosh, are you hungry, Murph? Your food bowl seems to be missing. That’s extremely sad.”

The cat mewed in agreement, jumped up on the bed and pressed the top of her head into Kat’s arm. Kat said in a purring voice, “Yes, I love you too. And we’re going to have sooooo much fun today.”

She scooped the cat up into her arms and walked toward the bathroom, where she had put the carrier. With one hand, she grabbed it and quickly placed it on end. Seeing that the dreaded agent of torture was
not
gone from her life, Murphee tensed and began to squirm in Kat’s arms. Before the claws started to flail, Kat grabbed the cat’s scruff and went for the feet-first approach this time. She lowered the cat’s butt down into the doorway of the carrier. Murphee stretched her front legs out across the door opening and tried to clamber up, but it was no use. Gravity took over and the cat thumped into the bottom of the crate. Kat closed the door and did a small victory dance around the bathroom.

Kat returned to Chez Stinky with Murphee in tow. She pulled the carrier out of the passenger seat as Linus watched. The big dog tried to sniff the creature in the carrier and was rewarded with great hissing noises. Having lived with cats for quite some time, the dog was aware that hissing was not a friendly sound. He looked up at Kat and backed away from the carrier.

Looking down at Linus’s big head, Kat smiled and said, “I know. She’s got a bit of an adjustment to make here. Be nice.”

Linus gave her a questioning look as if to say, “I’m always nice, remember? I’m one of the
good
dogs.”

Kat laughed and said, “You’re a good boy. I’ll be back in a few minutes for your walk. We’re going to try something different today. It might be fun.” She carried the plastic carrier up the stairs and into the house. As she opened the door, she closed off her nostrils, bracing for the olfactory impact. She let out her breath and took a tentative sniff. Much to her relief, the house actually did smell better. Kat put the carrier on the floor and went to open the kitchen window to let in some fresh air. As she walked around the house, memories of staying here with her great aunt returned. The living room had a collection of somewhat tattered-looking rag rugs, where she used to sit and play cards. The rough-hewn wood floors were worn from years of abuse by dog and cat claws. As if to emphasize the point, a big orange cat appeared from the bedroom and sauntered over to greet Kat. He curled his wide body around her right leg and meowed.

“Hi, Louie. How’s it going?” She bent down to scratch the cat’s head as Murphee hissed and made thumping noises from within her carrier. Murphee was obviously extremely unhappy about all the new smells and animals, but Louie appeared unconcerned. It might be a good idea to put Murphee in a dog- and cat-free area, since she didn’t seem impressed with the large, friendly feline or the even larger dog she’d met so far.

Kat got all Murphee’s paraphernalia out of the car, including her food bowl. After setting up the cat’s new habitat in the bathroom, Kat fed her and went off to find the other cats who supposedly lived here. Because of the smell, she hadn’t really explored the house to determine where the feline contingent tended to hang out. They were eating the cat food, but she still hadn’t caught a glimpse of Tripod, the three-legged cat, anywhere. Presumably he was still alive and around somewhere.