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At the restaurant Tex had a little surprise for his newlywed daughter:“I’ve arranged with the chef that I’m going to cook the food, honey. Isn’t that great?”

Judging from the expression of horror on Odelia’s face the news wasn’t all that great.

“Sushi doesn’t have to be cooked, Tex,” said Gran. “It’s raw fish.”

“Well, whatever you do with sushi, I’m going to do it,” said Tex. “How hard can it be?!”

Famous last words.

But as Tex tied his chef’s apron in front of him, looking mighty proud, too, and the rest of the company took their seats at the table, Odelia crouched down next to us.

“I haven’t thanked you guys yet,” she said. “And so I wanted to do that now.” She then spirited four pouches of Cat Snax from behind her back, and started distributing their contents along the floor. “Just think of this as an appetizer,” she said as she gave my head a well-meant pat.

“Odelia?” said Dooley, his face screwed up in an expression of earnest concern—though, as indicated, only I could translate those very faint and understated signs that told me what he was thinking and feeling. “You’re not… sick, are you?”

“Sick? What do you mean?” she asked with a glance in her dad’s direction. And since I’ve been her loyal pet for so long I could immediately tell what she was thinking, too: she was clearly concerned her dad was about to poison them all with his (lack of) skills.

“Well, you were crying so much, and Gran was crying so much, too, and Marge was crying all the time. So I thought…”

Odelia laughed.“Oh, Dooley,” she said, looking much relieved. “Of course I’m not dying, sweetheart. Sometimes when humans are very happy, they cry. It’s a happy cry.”

“Oh, okay,” he said. “So you didn’t get married because you were about to die?”

“Absolutely not,” she said. Then she gave us all a sweet smile. “In fact I intend to live a full and happy long life.”

“And… now that you’re married… you’re not going to move to Germany, are you?” asked Dooley, “And take us with you?”

“There was a recent episode of General Hospital,” I explained quickly, “where one of the main characters gets married to a German woman and moves away to Germany.”

“That’s because that actor was kicked off the show,” said Harriet. “The writers had to think up something to get rid of him so they shipped him off to Germany.”

“No, I’m not moving to Germany, Dooley,” said Odelia as she gave my friend a tight squeeze, causing him to giggle with delight. “And neither is Mom or Gran. Nobody is getting kicked off this show. We’re all here to stay for a very, very long time to come.”

“Good,” said Dooley. “Cause I don’t think I’d like Germany. I hear they sell hot dogs there and they actually eat them!”

Odelia assumed her position at the head of the table, and soon all the humans were seated and the happy feast could finally begin. I think I’ve talked about some of the events that took place in another one of my chronicles so I’m not going to repeat myself here. Suffice it to say that Tex lived up to his reputation, but that nevertheless a satisfying evening was enjoyed by all.

Just like a wedding isn’t about the venue, or the number of people present, or even the amount of rice thrown at the bride and groom, a wedding feast isn’t about the quality of the food. It’s about being in the presence of the people that you love—or the cats that you love, in our case. And I have to say that pretty much all of my favorite people in the world were present, which made it a great night for me.

“I think I speak for all of us when I say that we were all very happy when Odelia told us that she and Chase had started dating,” Marge said as she got to her feet, a glass of champagne in her hand, to perform what I think is commonly termed a wedding toast. “And from the moment we met him, I’ve loved him like a son. Yes, I have, Chase,” she added, nodding furiously.

“Thanks, Mom,” said Chase as he heaved high his own glass.

“Hey, that’s a coincidence,” said Chase’s mom Martha, a petite woman with large eyes. She sometimes suffers some little trouble remembering stuff. “I’ve loved Chase like a son, too!”

“That’s because he is your son, Martha,” said her sister, Chase’s auntie Ariadne.

“He is?” asked Martha, a look of confusion stealing over her features. “I thought I recognized him from somewhere.”

“So it is with great pleasure, with great affection,” Marge continued, “with great…” And then she started crying again and I didn’t really understand what she said next, but I think we all got the gist.

“I feel the same way, Marge,” said Chase warmly as he got up and placed a loving arm around his mom-in-law. “I feel exactly the same way.”

“Oh, Chase,” said Marge, and then there was more hugging, and more crying.

“No, Dooley,” I was quick to say when my friend started to voice the question. “Nobody is sick, and nobody is dying.”

“They’re all happy?”

“Yes. They’re all very, very happy.”

“But I don’t get it!”

“They’re humans, Dooley. Enough said.”

“I guess so,” he said, still dubious.