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“I think that was dead people,” he corrected the big blorange cat. “But yeah, I see them everywhere. All the time. Even when I’m not sleeping, which is odd.” It was a heavy cross to bear, but he’d borne it with dignity and grace. Until now. “Harriet said something about the birds actually representing girls, and now she accuses me of cheating.” He spread his paws. “I’ve never so much as looked at another girl, so how can she accuse me of cheating, you know? It’s so unfair. Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to her. She listens to you.”

“I don’t know, Brutus,” said Max, much to his surprise. “Harriet may have a point. Those birds just may be a sublimation of the girls you’re actually interested in, but don’t allow yourself to get involved with for fear of Harriet’s wrath.”

He stared at the cat.“I got just about fifty percent of what you just said.”

Max took a seat and seemed to resign himself to offer him the full explanation.“Those birds might be birds in your imagination only. In actual fact they might represent the girls you want to go out and meet, see? And in that sense Harriet just might be correct.”

“But… I’m not interested in birds! I don’t even like the taste! They’re too… crunchy!”

“Like I said, it’s not actually birds you’re seeing—literal birds, I mean…” He sighed. “Oh, forget it. So you and Harriet broke up, is that it?”

“Yeah, at least that’s what it sounded like to me. She yelled a lot, said something about birds and Freud, and then she said I’m free to be with as many girls as I want.”

“So? Aren’t you happy about that? You’re free, Brutus. Free to fool around.”

He thought about this for a moment. It was an aspect of the matter he hadn’t considered. “You mean… I’m a free cat again?”

“That’s right. A merry bachelor once again.”

He directed a frown at his friend.“Okay, so what’s the catch? There’s always a catch with this kind of stuff, isn’t there?”

“There is no catch. Except of course that you and Harriet are a thing of the past. Over and done with. Finito. Boyfriend-girlfriend no more.”

“Mh.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about that to be honest. He liked Harriet a lot, loved her, even, but all this strange behavior she’d been displaying, all this prodding him in the ribs when he was asleep, screaming about birds? He definitely didn’t need that. He offered Max a grin. “So… what should I do?”

“Why are you asking me? It’s your life, Brutus.”

“Yeah, but you’re the brainy one, Max. You always have all the answers.”

Max shrugged.“This may come as a shock to you, Brutus. But for once in my life… I actually don’t. Have all the answers, I mean. In fact at this moment I have more questions than answers, if that makes sense.”

It didn’t, but then having a big brain had always made Max a little eccentric. You just had to accept it and indulge him when he got like that. “Come on. Ask me anything,” he said. “See if I can’t answer one of the many questions you have.”

“For one thing, do you think there is one true love for all of us out there, Brutus? Or is that simply a pipe dream?”

He thought about that for a moment.“That’s a toughie, I won’t lie to you,” he said finally. “Can I get back to you on that?”

“Absolutely,” said Max with a tired smile. “Take all the time you need.”

And then he was off, much to Brutus’s surprise.

“Hey! You haven’t told me what to do yet!”

“You’ll figure it out!” Max yelled back, and gave him a sort of wave with his tail.

Great. So now what?

CHAPTER 4

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Once her show was over, Vesta didn’t simply move on to the next programmed bit of entertainment, but instead found herself turning Max’s question over in her mind. For some strange reason it had touched a chord. Was there love on the horizon for Dooley and, by extension, Max? For it hadn’t escaped her attention that Max askedthe question as much for himself as he did for his trusted friend.

It was a topic of discussion she’d never taken the time to explore. Cats, as far as she was concerned, were incapable of experiencing finer emotions such as love. She’d always considered them ultimately an inferior species, at a level with the other beasts in the field, for whom the only thing that matters ultimately is procreation, and they don’t really care where the impetus for the next generation comes from, as long as it’s healthy and capable of ably sustaining the species.

But of course she should have known better. Especially she, who had developed such a special relationship with her cats, just like her daughter and granddaughter and possibly even her great-granddaughter. And just like her mother and grandmother.

Odd, then, that the matter of feline love had never cropped up in any conversation she ever had with her own forebears. Though it might also be, of course, that Max and Dooley were special, and they most certainly were.