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“I’ve booked you an appointment, too, by the way, Brutus,” said Odelia now.

We’d reached the bottom of the stairs and she walked into the kitchen to start up the coffeemaker. How people can drink that black sludge is beyond me, but then a lot of stuff humans do makes no sense at all. Like putting a perfectly healthy cat on a diet!

“Me!” cried Brutus. “Why me?!”

“Because Chase told me he doesn’t remember the last time you went. So it might as well have been never.” She frowned. “Though you are neutered, so you must have gone at least once.”

A deep blush crept up Brutus’s features. At least I think it did. It was hard to be sure with all that dark hair covering his visage. He cut a quick look at Harriet, who pretended she hadn’t heard. “I, um—I’m sure that’s not possible,” he said now.

“That you’re neutered or that you didn’t go to the vet in years?” Odelia asked deftly, taking a cup and saucer from the cupboard over the sink.

Brutus appeared to be shrinking before my very eyes, a sight I enjoyed a lot, I have to say.“Both,” he said curtly, now actively avoiding Harriet’s cool gaze.

“Don’t worry, Brutus,” said Dooley. “We’re all neutered. Max is neutered. I am neutered. Even Harriet is neutered. Isn’t that right, Harriet?”

“None of your beeswax,” Harriet snapped.

“Beeswaxed?” asked Dooley. “I’m pretty sure the right word is neutered.”

“Dooley!” Harriet said with a warning glare.

“What? What did I say?”

“Oh, come off it, you guys,” said Odelia, crouching down. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about. If you weren’t neutered I’m sure we’d have a fresh litter every couple of months, and we can’t have that now, can we?”

“I don’t see why not,” Harriet muttered. It was obviously still a sore point.

“Because I can’t take care of so many cats,” Odelia said softly. “You see that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, just do the math,” said Dooley. “Three litters a year times eight kittens a litter that’s…” He frowned, looking goofy for a moment, then said, “… a heck of a lot of cats!”

“It is,” said Odelia. “And I’d just end up having to bring them to the shelter. And I don’t need to tell you what happens to cats that end up at the animal shelter, do I?”

“They are adopted by loving humans?” Dooley ventured.

“They die, Dooley,” Brutus growled. “They all die.”

Dooley uttered a cry of horror and staggered back a few paces.“No, they don’t!”

“Oh, yes, they do. And then they’re turned into sausages and people eat them!”

“Brutus!” Odelia said. “Don’t scare Dooley.” She gave Dooley a comforting pat on the back. “They’re not turned into sausages. But they’re not adopted, either, I’m afraid. At least not all of them. Though I’m sure a lot of them find warm and loving families.”

“See!” Dooley cried triumphantly. “They’re all placed with their very own Odelias!”

“Thanks,” said Odelia, rising to her feet. “Now about Vena…”

Lucky for us the bell rang at that exact moment, and Gran came rushing in through the glass sliding door, looking like she was about to lay an egg.

“Is he here?!” Gran croaked anxiously. “Is he here?!”

“Is who here?” asked Odelia, moving to the front door.

“The UPS guy, of course!”

Gran is a white-haired little old lady, but even though she looks like sweetness incarnate, she’s quite a pistol.

“See?” asked Dooley, turning to me. “This is what I told you.”

“What did you tell me?” I asked. The morning had already been so traumatizing my mind had actively started to repress the memories.

“About Gran ordering a bunch of stuff online and Marge and Tex having to pay for it.”

Odelia had opened the door and Dooley was right: a pimply teenager in a brown uniform with‘UPS’ on his chest stood before her, a big, bulky package in his hands. “Vesta Muffin?” he asked.

“That’s me!” Gran squealed and darted forward, grabbed the package from the teenager’s hands and ran to the living room with it.

Odelia signed for the package and sent the kid on his way.“What’s going on, Gran?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing,” said Gran, eagerly tearing open the package.

We all gathered around, and since it’s hard to see anything from the floor, we all hopped up onto the chairs to have a good look at this mysterious package.

Gran, licking her lips, finally succeeded in ripping away the packaging, and before us lay three shiny green eggs. Huh.

“Gran,” said Odelia in her warning voice. It’s the voice she likes to use when me or Dooley have been up to no good, which, obviously, practically never happens.

“What?” asked Gran innocently. “I need them. I’m dating again.”

What a bunch of green eggs had to do with dating was beyond me, but, like I said, humans are weird. And in my personal experience no human is weirder than Gran.

“You’re dating again?” asked Odelia. “I thought that after Leo you were done with all of that.”

Leo was a horny old man that Gran used to run around with. We kept bumping into them in the weirdest places, practicing the weirdest positions. All very disturbing.