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“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” suddenly a voice sounded from the kitchen. It was Harriet, and she was licking her mustache, a clear sign she’d just eaten her fill. I hadn’t even heard her enter, but then that’s cats for you: they tread ever so lightly on feet of fur.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Surely Odelia wants us to be there on her big day.”

“Look, personally I wouldn’t mind being invited,” said the white Persian as she trotted up and joined us on the couch. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if I wasn’t, either, but just suppose she does invite us, it’s going to be a nightmare, you guys.”

“A nightmare?” said Dooley, darting another quick look at the staircase. “You mean, like what Odelia’s been having for the last couple of nights?”

“Exactly. I was talking to Shanille last night and she said it’s going to be one of those occasions best avoided. Can you imagine all of Hampton Cove crowding into that church and creating a big pileup? There’s going to be trampling, there’s going to be stomping, and gnashing of impatient teeth while they all fight to file in. And whose tails do you think are going to be crushed and mangled?” To show us she meant what she said, she carefully folded her tail around her buttocks and gave us a meaningful look.

Both Dooley and I winced at the word picture she was painting. Our tails may look like useless appendages merely added to increase our cuteness factor times ten, but they are sensitive and dislike being indiscriminately trampled on by big and clumsy feet. It was a potential disaster that gave me pause. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate humans as much as the next cat, but they do have a tendency not to look where they step, especially when fighting for a good spot—like at Macy’s when they organize an end-of-season sale.

Or Odelia’s upcoming wedding.

“So you think we better steer clear,” I said, nodding in full comprehension and agreement. I had entertained the same thought myself, to be honest. Wherever hundreds of humans get together, it’s best for cats to go into hiding, as it can only lead to trouble.

“And the other thing—I didn’t want to bring this up, as I don’t want to heap more pressure onto Odelia—but you guys, we haven’t even been invited yet! So I think it’s safe to say we’re not going to.”

“Not going to what?” asked Brutus, the fourth member of our fearsome foursome as he walked in through the kitchen pet flap.

“Harriet just said we’re not going to be invited to the wedding,” said Dooley. “And how that’s probably a good thing?”

“Oh, right,” said Brutus, who’s a big, butch black cat and also Harriet’s mate. “Can’t say I’m surprised,” he said as he inspected his food bowl and then hunkered down to gobble up a few random nuggets.

“Why do you say that?” I asked. “I thought we were definitely going to be included in the festivities. We are Odelia’s pets, so why wouldn’t she invite us to share the most beautiful day of her life?”

“About that,” said Dooley. “Why does everyone keep saying that, Max?”

“Saying what?”

“The most beautiful day in Odelia’s life? I thought the most beautiful day in her life was the day she was born. If she hadn’t been born, she wouldn’t even be here, right?”

“It’s just something people say,” I explained. “It means that Odelia finally gets to tie the knot with the person she loves the most in all the world.”

“But… doesn’t Odelia love her mom and dad the most in all the world?” asked Dooley, still in the habit of asking those tough questions, like he usually does.

“Well, yes,” I admitted. “But, once again, it’s just something people say.”

“But why do they say things that aren’t true? Isn’t that the same thing as lying?”

“Look, Dooley, it doesn’t matter,” said Harriet, clearly tiring of Dooley’s interruptions. “We’re not invited, so it doesn’t matter if it’s the most beautiful day of her life, or the second-most beautiful or whatever. We’re not a part of it, see? We don’t feature into the thing at. At all.”

Dooley blinked.“But surely—”

“Surely we should consider this a lucky escape. And that’s all there is to it. Now why are you guys sleeping on the couch and not upstairs on the bed where you belong?”

Dooley made a face.“Odelia kicked us off. First she kicked Max in the tush, and then when I took his place she kicked me off as well. Also in the tush. My tush, not Max’s.”

“She did what?” said Harriet, clearly shocked at this egregious example of gross misconduct on the part of one who’d always professed to be an animal person.

“She didn’t mean to kick us off,” I hastened to say. “She was having a bad dream and inadvertently happened to lash out with her feet. Both feet, I should probably add.”

“Hitting us where it hurts,” Dooley added sadly, and rubbed his tush for good measure.

“This is too much,” said Harriet. “First she neglects to invite us to her wedding, and now she’s causing you grievous bodily harm? What’s wrong with the woman?”

“Nothing is wrong,” I said. “She’s just nervous about the wedding, that’s all.”