d5e426eccb138e04dab909926b2752c6

We both looked out across the backyard at Odelia’s dad, who now sat chatting happily with Chase about the barbecue course they were going to take together.

I shook my head.“I really hope no more kids come crawling out of the woodwork.”

“I’m just saying, Max.”

“I know, buddy. And maybe you’re right.”

“Humans are always full of surprises, aren’t they?”

“Oh, yes, they are.”

And as we both glanced at Odelia, we wondered how she would react if Tex’s real son suddenly showed up on our doorstep. I had a feeling she’d welcome him with open arms, because that’s the kind of person she is. That’s the kind of people all the Pooles are. And that’s probably why I like them so much.

They’re good people, and sometimes bad people try to take advantage of them. But that’s what they’ve got us for, right?

To keep an eye on them.

To be their watchcats.

Because watching out for our humans is what we do.

“Max?” asked Rambo.

“Mh?”

“I’m hungry.”

I smiled.“Of course you are.”

“Can you ask Odelia for more food?”

“Absolutely, buddy.”

In fact we don’t just watch out for our humans, we even watch out for our humans’ dogs. Now how weird is that?

“Thanks,” said Rambo when Odelia dropped a pork chop between his front paws.

She patted his head.“You know?” she said. “Maybe we’ll adopt you.”

Wait… “What?!”

“Chase is always going on about having a dog, so let’s adopt Rambo,” she said.

“I wouldn’t mind,” said Rambo with a casual shrug. “As long as the food’s good? Sure.”

Odelia must have noticed how Dooley and I were staring at her, absolutely flabbergasted, and she grinned.“Don’t look at me like that, you guys. It’ll be fun. And you like Rambo, don’t you? Sure you do.”

And with these words, she returned to her family, still grinning, and proving once and for all that humans don’t understand the first thing about cats. Nothing!

“Max?” said Dooley.

“Yes, Dooley?”

“Let’s elope.”

“Why not?” I said, and hopped down from that swing.

“We can live off our urine,” said Dooley as we walked off and left that treacherous and very uncompassionate Poole family behind. “Just like Gandhi. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy: you drink the pee, then you pee, then you drink the pee, then you pee, and then you drink the pee, and so on and so on.”

“That’s not a self-fulfilling prophecy, Dooley.”

“A pee-petuum mobile, then?”

“Oh, Dooley,” I said.