Kelly Mayfield, who’d been emptying her mailbox and had returned indoors, hadn’t conveniently left the front door ajar for us, so we were compelled to circle the house and find some alternative means of entry. One thing you should know about our neighborhood is that it was conceived by an architect with a distinct lack of imagination. All the houses look more or less the same, and so do the streets. And so as we made our way along the passageway between Kelly’s house and the next, I had a strong sense of d?j?-vu, as if I’d been there before. Part of it was that according to Dooley we had been there before, but the other part was that the lay of the land was very similar to the lay of the land on Harrington Street, which was a good thing, as it made our work that much easier.
And we’d just entered the backyard, and were subjecting the back of the house to a closer inspection, when suddenly a smallish dog came racing out of the house and started yapping its head off at us!
CHAPTER 7
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Then, just as suddenly as the mutt had started yapping, it stopped.“Oh, it’s you,” it said, and lay down on the lawn, rolled over, and closed its eyes, gently panting with lolling tongue. Dogs, like cats, have trouble on those dog days of summer, you see. So much so that they might as well have called them cat days of summer, or simply pet days of summer. I mean, if we’re going to be inclusive, why not go all the way and get rid of words aimed at excluding us felines from the conversation, right? But I can see I’m boring you, so let’s get back to the story!
“Hey, Fifi,” I said, for it was indeed Fifi, our neighboring Yorkie.
“Kurt on holiday again?” asked Dooley.
Fifi nodded soberly.“And decided to leave me behind again. That man will go flying off into the sunset at the drop of a hat.” She shrugged. “Disadvantage of belonging to a human who’s retired and has too much money to spend, I guess.”
“Where is he off to this time?” I asked.
“Bali,” said Fifi curtly. It was obvious she wasn’t too happy about Kurt’s tendency to take off and dump her with his sister.
“Look, we need to ask you for a favor,” I said.
“Sure thing,” said Fifi. “As long as it doesn’t require too much effort. I’m hot.”
“It’s global warming,” said Dooley. “The whole globe is sweating right now.”
Jack’s eyes had gone a little wider as he listened to this snatch of casual conversation. It’s not often that cats and dogs prove such firm friends, I guess.
“This is Jack,” I said, deciding to introduce the funny-looking rodent. “His good friend Judy is locked up in Kelly’s attic along with her cousin Bertha. Now do you think there might be a way to get them out of there?”
Fifi regarded Jack thoughtfully.“I’m not sure. Kelly has been engaged in a battle to the death with these mice lately. They’ve been stealing stuff from the kitchen and leaving a trail of mouse dropping all over the house.”
“That must be Bertha,” said Jack immediately. “Judy would never do such a thing. She’s a very sanitary person. Never drops a dropping if she can help it.”
“How did they get locked up in the attic?” asked Dooley.
“Kelly chased them up there last night,” said Fifi. “She stumbled upon the two of them as they were hauling off a big piece of cheese, and so she chased them all over the house, until she managed to trap them up there and locked the door, hoping to get rid of them once and for all.”
“She’s not just going to leave them there, surely”?” I said.
“Oh, no, of course not,” said Fifi.
“Good.”
“She’s bringing in a professional.”
I quirked a confused eyebrow at our canine friend.“A professional?”
“Yeah, an exterminator I think she called him. In fact that will be him now.” She gestured to a rather large man who came stomping into the backyard, dressed in gray coveralls, a sort of weird contraption strapped to his back, and clasping an even stranger contraption that looked like a spray gun in his hand. On his head he had strapped a pair of safety goggles, and he looked like he meant business.
“What is that!” Dooley cried.
“Like I said, an exterminator,” said Fifi. “He’s here to exterminate…” She darted an apologetic glance to Jack. “Well, your friends Judy and Bertha, I guess.”
Kelly, who’d come out of the house to greet the man, was now outlining in broad terms the job she had lined up for him. I only caught a few words, but they sounded ominous enough indeed. Death to all rodents seemed about the gist of the thing, and from Jack’s widening eyes, I could tell he wasn’t at all sanguine that this story would have a happy ending after all!
“We have to do something, Max,” said Dooley urgently. “This man with the strange machine on his back is going to murder Jack’s one true love!”
“One true love?” said Fifi, raising herself from her supine position on the lawn. She seemed galvanized by these words.
“Yeah, our Jack here is madly in love with Judy, even though it appears she has given her heart to another,” I explained, much to Jack’s visible embarrassment.