ff3a28bfbb25315bb8c90759d8632474

I could definitely relate. I didn’t like young hounds either, or any kind of hounds, for that matter. Dumb mutts. What surprised me was that I hadn’t seen a trace of these young hounds anywhere. Looked like they’d all fled.

“Though Jasper hating those young hounds was pretty ironic,” said George. “Seeing as that’s how he and Johnny met in the first place.”

“Because of the hounds?” I asked, confused.

“Well, he was one of them, wasn’t he?”

This surprised me. A dog turning into a human was a feat I’d never seen performed. But then there are many things in this world that are beyond my comprehension. Live and learn. “He was a young hound himself once?”

“He sure was. One of the first. He was Johnny’s first favorite, the one he asked to stay the night, and the night after that, and then the next night. And finally he never left, did he? Only Johnny had an insatiable appetite.”

“For… hounds?” I asked.

“Sure. Jasper never had a chance of scratching that itch all by himself. Johnny needed more, and he needed different, and he needed it every single night. It drove Jasper up the wall. They fought about it all the time.”

“About the happy juice and those… hounds,” I said, just to be sure.

“Us cats rooted for Jasper, of course.”

“Of course,” I said, though how a cat could root for a dog was beyond me.

“But he never had a chance. He wanted Johnny all for himself, you see. Had visions of the two of them growing old together. But Johnny didn’t do old. He wanted to stay young forever, and sharing his bed with those young studs every night made him feel young. That and the happy juice, of course.”

“Young… studs,” I said uncertainly. How we’d gone from dogs to horses I didn’t know, but I was determined not to show my confusion.

“And of course Johnny was a star. You can’t tie down a star.”

Or a stud, apparently, though it’s been known to happen.

“Johnny was larger than life, and nobody was going to have him all to themselves, not even me,” he said with a sad look in his eyes as he silently surveyed the long row of bowls.

I got his drift, of course. Poor cat. He’d come all the way from England to America, only to have to share his human and his home with at least a dozen strays, a couple of hounds and a few studs, too. An entire menagerie, in fact.

“What’s going to happen now?” I asked, gesturing at the bowls.

“Life goes on, partner. Someone will take care of us. Probably Jasper.”

That figured. The dog-turned-human would take care of his cat friends. And probably kick out the hounds and studs. Almost like a Disney movie.

“You think Jasper will inherit?”

“I hope so,” said George, now trying to lick his butt but finally giving up. His large belly was in the way, and he was not as limber as he used to be.

“Well, at least you’ll always have Jasper,” I said.

“Yeah, Jasper is a sweetheart,” said George. “We’re in good hands.”

At this, he gave up on the struggle to lick his butt, plunked down on the floor and promptly dozed off. It happens, especially to cats of a certain age.

Dooley and I exchanged a glance, and before I could help it, I was staring wistfully at George’s jumbo-sized bowl. What I would give for a helping of that delicious p?t?. Just the smell was enough to make my mouth water.

“Take a nibble, Max,” Dooley said. “There’s plenty more where that came from. Didn’t you hear the cat? They’re in good hands with this Jasper.”

“I am kinda peckish,” I admitted. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and after all this tripping around and interviewing cats, I could do with a bit of food.

“Well, then?” he asked. “What are you waiting for? Dig in!”

I’m not proud of what happened next. I caved. I checked left and right, like a regular bandit, and finally dug in. I was smart about it, though. Instead of cleaning out a single bowl, like Dooley had done, I simply sampled some food from all the bowls, twelve in a row, so no one would even notice.And when I’d finally reached the last one, I’d eaten my fill and was in cat heaven.

“Oh, God. This stuff is simply divine,” I gushed.

“Isn’t it?” asked Dooley with a grin.

“Best food I’ve ever tasted. Pity Odelia is not an aging pop star.”

“If she was, we’d have to share with a dozen other cats,” said Dooley.

He had a point. Now already we were having trouble with Brutus, the new cat in town. I couldn’t imagine having to share my food and home with a dozen more like him. Or a bunch of dogs and horses, for that matter.

No, perhaps things were the way they should be. But next time when Odelia went grocery shopping, I think I’ll still ask her to buy a bit of p?t?.

Chapter 5

We rode back to Hampton Cove in silence, Dooley and I fully content after our culinary feast. We’d told the whole story about the cats and the dogs and the horses and the happy juice to Odelia, and it was obvious we’d given her plenty of food for thought, for she was also conspicuously silent.