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“Sure, Dooley,” I said reassuringly. “Don’t you worry about a thing. You take your nap and I’ll make sure that stork doesn’t pass by this office without me attracting its attention and making sure it does what it’s supposed to do.”

“And what’s that?” asked Brutus. “Take a dump and fly off again?” He seemed to think his joke was very funny, for he suddenly broke into uproarious laughter.

“You know how important this is, Brutus,” said Dooley, sounding a little hurt. “If we don’t catch that stork, Odelia will never have her baby, and then she’ll be very sad.”

“Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet with a sigh, even as Brutus shook his head.

“What?” said Dooley. “It’s true, though, isn’t it? This is very, very important.”

“Absolutely, Dooley,” I said with a smile. As long as Dooley was on the lookout for the stork delivering Odelia’s baby there was no need for me to go into all that birds and bees stuff again, something I thoroughly dislike, I don’t mind telling you.

“What are you guys talking about?” asked Odelia, busily typing at her computer.

“Oh, nothing special,” I said, and Dooley gave me a fat wink.

So you can probably see what the issue was, can’t you: ever since we got back from Vegas, Dooley has been very anxious about the baby he was sure was about to land any moment now, courtesy of that mysterious stork. He’d pretty much equated marriage with the arrival of a bundle of joy from the heavens, and since Odelia was so incredibly busyall the time, he was afraid she’d miss the stork’s arrival and her chance at having a baby—or two.

Harriet and Brutus, on the other hand, weren’t all that excited at the prospect of an addition to the family, though in all honesty it was mostly Harriet who was very vocal in expressing her views on the subject. Not when Odelia could hear her, mind you. The last thing she wanted was to antagonize our human and cause that incessant flow ofkibble to suddenly dry up, something that was entirely Odelia’s prerogative, of course.

A knock at the door sounded, and when we looked up we saw that a man had arrived sporting an anxious look on his face.

“Miss Poole?” he said hesitantly. “Miss Odelia Poole?”

“Yep, that’s me,” said Odelia, looking up from her computer. “What can I do for you?”

The man hesitantly entered the office and took a seat across from the intrepid reporter. He was a man in his early thirties I would have guessed, a little thin on top, who wore thick-framed glasses and had a mephistophelian beard going on. The kind of beard Robert Downey Jr. rocks when he’s flying around dressed as a man of iron. Unfortunately while such a beard becomes Mr. Downey well, it didn’t do much for this man’s doughy face and pasty pallor. Then again, we can’t all be Hollywood stars, now can we?

“A friend of mine said you’re the person to talk to when some delicate issue crops up,” the man said, after shuffling back and forth on his chair for a few beats, while Odelia patiently waited for him to launch into an explanation for why he’d decided to intrude upon her precious time.

“A delicate issue?” asked Odelia, frowning slightly. “What delicate issue, Mr…”

“Curtis,” said the man. “Joshua Curtis. Um…” He glanced around, as if to make sure they wouldn’t be disturbed, and conveniently ignored all four of us, dismissing us as not relevant, as most humans do. He scooted a little forward on his chair, then said, “Can I rely on your absolute discretion, Miss Poole? This is, as I said, a matter of the utmost delicacy.”

“Yes, of course,” said Odelia. She gave the man a smile intended to put him at ease. “While I’m not an attorney, and I can’t fall back on the old client confidentiality thing…”

“Or a priest,” I muttered.

“I will of course treat whatever you want to tell me with the necessary discretion.”

Mr. Curtis nodded, then seemed to screw up his courage and said,“A friend of mine is in trouble, Miss Poole.”

“Just call me Odelia,” said our fair-haired human who, last I checked, was as svelte as she’s always been, which meant that in spite of Dooley’s ministrations no baby bump was growing. She flashed more of that encouraging smile of hers at the man, the smile that makes people in all walks oflife entrust her with their deepest confidences.

“The thing is, Jason and I have been best friends since college, see. And since he got married I like to think that his wife Melanie and I have also become very close friends.”

“Are you yourself married, Joshua?” asked Odelia, as a way to break the ice.

“Um, no, as a matter of fact I’m not,” said the man, nervously rubbing his hands on his trousers. “I came close,” he quickly added with a weak smile, “but no luck so far.”

“So your friend Jason is in some kind of trouble?”

“Yes, well, actually his wife Melanie is. She…” Mr. Curtis took another deep breath. “The thing is, Melanie’s been seeing someone.”

“You mean, someone other than her husband?”

Joshua nodded.“I’m afraid so.”

“Does your friend know about this?”