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Something I learned in college was that when you’re sinking fast, you’d better hold your breath. Or maybe it was call Uber, I wasn’t sure. Anyway, my point was, I knew I needed help so I called Jack. (Jack is my on-again-off-again boyfriend and also Bailey’s brother who happens to be Max’s vet.) Max had done well training with Jack and Buttercup yesterday, so I hoped maybe if Buttercup was here, Max might learn a thing or two and quit eating everything we owned.
I was outside, behind my apartment, hoping Max would do his business sometime before the second coming, and daydreaming about a certain small town sheriff’s black hair and blue eyes, when Jack pulled up an hour later. Buttercup bounded out of his SUV, and I noticed Jack had a red mesh contraption in his arms.
“Hi,” he said, and pulled me in for a kiss.
My mind went stupid. My thoughts evaporated into the ether, and I started feeling gooey and a little too warm. Suddenly I wanted to climb under Jack’s t-shirt and get sweaty and do sweaty things even though I knew Jack was a total commitment-phobe. Right at that minute, kissing the sexiest man I’d ever known, I didn’t care. Probably that meant I was shallow. Or maybe depraved. Did not care, nope, nope, nope. I was a total sucker for a hot kiss, great biceps, and a nice guy with laugh lines around his eyes. But then Jack could probably turn me on picking pocket lint.
I was just starting to have really X-rated ideas when I heard a meow and jumped a foot back.
“Oh!” I squeaked.
“WOOF!” Max barked.
“Tilley,” Jack said, breathing just a little too hard.
Ha, good. I wasn’t the only one getting early onset Sexual Deprivation Syndrome.
I mentally doused my impure thoughts, then looked at the red, mesh thing and spotted Tilley inside. “What is that?”
“I made a harness with a cat carrier attached for Max. To tote Tilley around. Here, I’ll show you.”
He set the small mesh crate thingy on Max’s back and Velcro’d a couple of straps and when he was done, Tilley was contained and safe, and Max was euphoric.
“And if you want, you can unzip the top part here, and she can stick her head out. Even though it’s mesh on all four sides, she might like the air in her face if Max decides to do a run around the yard. Kind of like a dog hanging its head out of a car window.” He took something small from his pocket and attached it to Max’s collar. “A bell. So Tilley knows where he’s at. Also, Bailey said for you to always speak to Tilley when entering or leaving a room so she knows where you are.”
I was touched. “Thank you. What a kind thing to do.”
I thought Jack might do the “Aw, shucks” routine, but I should’ve known better.
Instead he asked, “How is it that Max gets better meals than I do when I come over?”
“I feed you.”
His eyes twinkled. “Not an entire beef tenderloin.”
“I’ll have Luca save one for you.” I did an eye roll so big Jack probably heard it. “Come on. Let’s get this thing with Max figured out and then I’ll feed you.”
When we walked into the restaurant, Max nearly mowed down two waitstaff, a cook, and a fully set table getting to Nonna, who was sitting in the lobby overseeing a gardener putting her beloved fig tree back together. Max gave a happy bark and my nonna must’ve been napping because she bolted upright, gasped, and her upper dentures popped loose.
“Oh, what’s this?” she asked, and clicked her teeth back into place. “Now you gonna try to apologize, eh, Max? Trying to sucka me up and gain favor?”
Jack cleared his throat. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Zinelli. I think Max wants you to meet Tilley. Look inside the mesh carrier on his back.”
She unzipped the top and Tilley went right into her hands. “A kitten! How sweet! Aw, she so cute. Tilley? So it’s a girl kitty?”
I nodded. “She’s three-months-old and almost completely blind. Max adores her.”
She gave the squint eye to Max and nuzzled Tilley. “She can’t see so good? Poor kitty. She so tiny. Too little to do any damage – aaauuugghh!” Tilley jumped from Nonna’s hands onto her lap then climbed her like a tree and took up position on top of Nonna’s head. “Ahia! Dio Santo!”
Jack rushed to Nonna.
Buttercup trotted up carrying a stack of cloth napkins.
Tilley jumped down and broke for Florence.
My mother, eyes crazed, ran in chasing Buttercup.
My father appeared at the entrance of Milan.
“Quick, grab her!” I hollered.
“Who?” he asked, and tackled Nonna so hard her dentures went flying.
Buttercup dropped the napkins, grabbed the teeth, and ran after Tilley.
Luca, Paolo, and Gio all strode out of the kitchen.
Gio said, “Hey, what’s the ruckus? Why is Nonna screaming? Do we need police?”
Nonno came out from Naples, took one look around and tried to escape.
“Nonno! We have a kitten loose in Florence!”
“Where? What?” he asked. I pointed and he ran.
By now everyone was headed toward Florence in a rush. We hit the doorway at the same time and I suddenly wondered where Max was. “Where’s Max?”
My brothers’ eyes got big and they all took off for the kitchen.
Florence was decorated with marble sculptures, Da Vinci paintings, a mural of Ponte Vecchio, linen covered tables, plants and trees in huge pots, and a riot of flowers. It also had three new additions. Max (lounging next to a statue of David), Tilley (tucked between Max’s paws), and Buttercup, who had an entire place setting of silverware and my nonna’s dentures between her paws.
Italian exclamations ensued. I tried to translate for Jack but gave up when the words got too inventive. Heck, I didn’t know half of them myself. “Help?” I said to Jack.
Jack moved to Max and picked up Tilley. Max woofed, Tilley meowed, I moved to Buttercup, grabbed a napkin, and picked up my nonna’s teeth.
Buttercup barked, whined, and pawed the floor, then flat out flopped on top of her stash. I pretended not to notice.
I remembered Jack saying she was a kleptomaniac and a hoarder so I hid the teeth behind my back and quickly gave her another set of silverware and two napkins before she had a full-on meltdown. I stroked her head and scratched her ears until she finally seemed content again. I seriously hoped she didn’t have her eye on any of the artwork. I also hoped Nonno didn’t notice her behavior. He’d be the one who would cook up some crazy scheme to take full advantage of her larceny and then they’d both need bail money and my family would have me committed.
When the noise level finally subsided, Jack held up Tilly. “This is the diabolical bleedin’ rogue. I’d like you all to meet wee Tilley.”
Nonno hollered, “Bleeding? Where she bleeding at? Let me see her! Call a doctor!”
“No, no, Nonno,” I said, and patted his arm. “Jack just used some, uh, Irish slang.”
“I think I heard that before. It mean cute and wily.” Nonno nodded his head. “Yes?”
“That’s exactly right, Mr. Zinelli. But it only works when you’re not in public.”
I gave Jack the squint eye and he grinned.
“She fast, she mighta be blind, but she quick!” Nonna took her teeth and went to wash off the dog slobber.
“Blind?” Nonno asked. “Surely not really blind? Oh!” he said, and snapped his fingers. “Is that slang like bleeding? Like, aww, look at the bleeding, blind kitten.”
“No,” I said, and made a mental note to make Jack a surprise batch of toothpaste Oreos. “It means she can’t see. At least not very well. Maybe if she’s really up close she can, or far away, I’m not sure.”
“So she really can’t see?” Mama asked.
“According to Bailey, she’s severely vision impaired. Jack made a tote for her, which is what Max is wearing.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet! What a nice boy you are, Jack. Poor little kitty.”
Jack looked at me with a raised eyebrow before he turned back to my mother. “Thank you, Mrs. Zinelli. Bailey said Tilley is happy and healthy and will do just fine, so I don’t think we should give her too much sympathy.”
“Oh, now, you can never have too much love or sympathy when it’s called for,” Mama said, and plucked Tilley from Jack’s arms.
“Mama, she’s going to be the Helen Keller of cats. We’ll teach her, don’t worry. You can all spoil her rotten if you’d like.”
“Of course we will.” She held Tilley up to her face, then moved her less than an inch away, so they were eyeball to eyeball. “Hello, Tilley, I’m Sophia’s mama. You just meow when you want some tuna, eh? You gonna keep that crazy wild Max in line, right Tilley girl?”
Tilley meowed, then sneezed in Mama’s face, and Mama pushed her out to arm’s length. “Oh! Ew! That one already has the tuna breath. She need a Tic-A-Tac.”
“No Tic-Tacs!” Jack and I said in unison. “She’ll get sick,” I added.
“Here,” Mama said and thrust the kitten into my hands. “You brush her teeth while I take Max up to Nonna’s apartment. See if what we made fits.”
“When did you have time to make anything?” I asked.
“It wasn’t all insane last night. We made his uniform before Mr. Diaper Dog went potzo.”
I cooed to Tilley while Mama took Max upstairs. Everyone else wandered off to work, which left me alone with Jack and Buttercup. And Tilley, of course, who was purring so hard she vibrated.
“I think I can help you with Max,” Jack said. “On the drive up here, I called Bailey. She said a dog’s sense of smell is forty times greater than ours. She went into the science of it all, but it was over my head so I told her I was a sheriff not a vet and asked if she wanted me to go into a criminology course. That shut her up real bloody fast. Anyway, she suggested you make sachets with spices.”
“Okay, sure. Right. Sachets with spices. Got it.” I smacked my forehead like this made complete and obvious sense.
Jack grinned. “You’re utterly lost, aren’t ya?”
“Am I a mind reader? Or a vet? Of course I have no clue what the heck you’re talking about.”
“So, you take a spice. Let’s say cinnamon. You make two sachets with cinnamon. You are about knowin’ what a sachet is?”
“I know about the kind I keep in my underwear drawer.”
Jack scratched his neck. “You’re not making this easy, Sophia. All I can see now is all that wild stuff you call lingerie. Is it hot in here?”
He looked at my mouth and his gaze went to half mast. Then he pulled me in for a long kiss. One hand softly caressed my cheek and neck. The other cradled my head. My mind emptied, it just emptied as Jack pulled me even closer, his lips at first soft, then demanding and deepening as our breaths mingled and I could feel the beating of his heart against my chest. He made a high-pitched growl deep in his throat which I’d never heard from Jack before. In fact I wasn’t at all sure I liked it. Then he let loose with a full-blown caterwaul and I popped backward, wondering if Jack, for one insane second, thought that was the least bit sexy.
“We’re uh, smooshing the cat.” Jack managed between breaths.
Cat? What cat?
Then my sexual mush brain came to its senses and I remembered Tilley.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, mortified, then immediately began soothing the cranky kitten. Jack had been talking about spices or sachets or something and his last question had been about the temperature and I was probably never going to regain my dignity so I said, “No. It’s fine. Not hot. Warm maybe. Keep going.”
“I would but your family might object if they walked in and my pants were around me ankles.”
Jack’s Irish always got worse when he was emotional or teasing. Ha, good, glad to know I wasn’t the only hot human in the room. “The sachets?” I reluctantly reminded him.
“Right,” he said and scrubbed a hand over his face. “So, you make two. One you staple under the table, say table number one. Then you take the other and keep it at the host podium. You mark it with the number one and let Max smell it, tell him to seat the people at table number one. He’ll match the scent and you’re all set. You can do it with each room, and each table.”
“So if he learns Rome by scent, like I put jasmine at the door and let him smell jasmine and tell him it’s Rome, he’ll match the scent and know where to go?”
“Technically, yes. But this is Max we’re talking about.”
I stuck my hands on my hips. “Well I guess I’ll be thankin’ me Lucky Charms if he gets even one room right. The wankin’ blighter.”
“I wasn’t meaning offense, but you do have to admit, our dogs are a wee bit off their nut.”
He did have a point, except that I already knew just how smart Max was. “It’s several hours yet before we open. I can make the sachets now and see how Max does.”
“Sure and I can be staying to help if you’d like.”
“That’d be great, thanks. I guess we need to hit the kitchen and see what’s there.” The kitchen. Ugh. My least favorite place unless I was eating. It was hot and chaotic and noisy at the best of times. Which might be why I had no clue how to cook. I loved food but had no interest in the learning of how to prepare it. Hopefully I could fake my way through the spices without letting on just how awful I was at knowing a single blasted thing about them. Like jasmine. What kind of a spice was that? Was it made by Disney?
Jack called Buttercup and she came bouncing out of Florence with a sterling water pitcher in her mouth. She dropped the pitcher at Jack’s feet. “I’m guessing she found the hostess stand?”
“Maybe she’s trying to tell you she’s thirsty. We can get all three of the furry critters some water in the kitchen.”
Just as we were headed to the kitchen, Mama came into the lobby with Max. I stopped short. Max was ... magnificent. He was all handsome and brushed and dressed in a formal tux with a bow tie at his neck. I thought he was beautiful before, but now, well now he looked stunning. His tail wagged when he saw me and I handed Tilley to Jack as I hurried over to him and hugged this beautiful creature who had stolen my heart. I silently promised him that I would do whatever it took to make sure his life was happy and fulfilled. Since shepherds liked to work, I’d make sure he succeeded. No matter what. This precious dog was now my family, I loved him, and he was going to triumph even if it meant we had to eat whale blubber.
My feelings must have translated through my hug because Max’s whole body wagged as I held him and he gave a happy woof. “You’re the most handsome fella I know, Max.” I gave Mama a hug too, and said, “Thank you. He’s gorgeous.”
“Your Nonna did some reading up on dog training and she said he can only wear his uniform while he’s working. But I wanted you to see him first.”
“Nonna’s right. And thank you again. His uniform is perfect.” I was also glad they only made the jacket and that I wasn’t going to have to put pants on a dog who would have to go pee every hour or two.
#ChannelingChewbacca
#It’sBeenARuffDay
#WhatACat-astrophe