Why Cedric the Betrayer ended up sleeping on Miss Josie’s couch:
- His wife kicked him out.
- He had nowhere else to go.
- Miss Josie was the kindest person in the world.
- Miss Josie harbored residual guilt over things which weren’t her fault (aka she’d dated a married man).
- Cedric was a master manipulator.
- Whether she liked it or not, Miss Josie still had feelings for the creep.
The last one was the kicker. Unresolved relationships were dangerous quagmires full of heavy emotional baggage.
“Wait, she still cares for him?” asked Rocco. The room was dark, but I saw the shocked expression on his smushed up face. “Is she a total idiot?”
“No. She has a soft heart. And she tends to love the unlovable. She can’t help herself. Take you, for example.”
I thought for a second I saw something close to admiration flash in Rocco’s eyes, but it could have been a trick of the light. “Right back at you, bully stick breath.”
A fair shot, since my breath did smell like bully sticks. Miss Josie gave them to me as a way to keep me from chewing on other things, like her shoes. Unfortunately, they were made from the male appendages of bulls, and they reeked.
“Point taken. To answer your question, I think Miss Josie is lonely.”
“But she has us,” said Rocco. “What more could she possibly want?”
“Um, someone human. Someone to hang out with, and drink wine with, and, well, you know...”
“Of course, I know,” said Rocco, giving me an odd look. “I’m surprised you do.”
“We live in a book store. Duh.”
Rocco frowned, wrinkling his furry eyebrows at me. “What exactly are we talking about, pup?”
“The fact that she would like to have someone to discuss books with, of course.”
“I see,” he said, but he looked like he tried not to laugh. Felines are such a mystery.
“Yes, and she and Cedric the Betrayer had books in common.”
“Cedric the Betrayer? I love it. I wish he were allergic to cats. I’d make him suffer.”
A plan formed in my mind. “Cedric isn’t allergic to cats, but he is allergic to dogs. Hey, Rocco, is there any way you can spring me from Alcatraz tonight?”
He laughed. “I like the way your mind works, pup.”
Rocco opened my crate with ease as Miss Josie slept in her room, the door closed and locked. We all heard the click when she went to bed. Cedric the Betrayer snoozed on her blue couch. He’d put his glasses on the end table and curled up in a slightly uncomfortable looking ball.
“What do we do now?” I asked, my voice a whisper.
“Sleep as close to him as possible so he gets the full effect of your allergens.”
I hopped onto a soft velvet Ottoman. It matched Miss Josie’s blue couch and was the closest I could get to Cedric. It put me only inches away from his face. “Is there anything else?” I asked as Rocco climbed on the bookshelf to sleep.
“Yes,” he said. “Control yourself this evening. Don’t eat anything toxic or chew on anything that doesn’t belong to you. Behave. We don’t want a repeat performance of the night you destroyed Miss Josie’s room.”
“No way,” I said, and I meant it, but sometime around midnight, my puppy instincts took over. I couldn’t help myself. I got bored, and when I get bored, I become Capone-ish. I needed something to occupy my time. Cedric’s wallet seemed like the right choice.
After I pulled out all the credit cards, photos, and ID, and shook it until cash flew around the room like single’s night in a strip club, I settled down to enjoy the buttery soft leather. Lovely, and such a pleasant texture, so I chewed and chewed until the leather got even more malleable and fell apart. Then I did what came naturally to me.
I ate Cedric’s wallet.
Yum. What a perfect, leathery treat. I belched and looked around the room, bored again. I spied Cedric’s expensive Italian loafers on the floor next to the couch, and once again ignored my baser instincts.
Let me tell you, Italian loafers do not taste like Italian food—no sauce, and no meatballs, and yet delicious in their own right. I didn’t eat the loafers, of course. I just nibbled on them, and they were sublime.
Note to self: Italian shoes are perfetto and delizioso.
I finished chewing as the sun came up in the sky and retreated to my post next to Cedric’s face. He breathed through his mouth at this point. His nose seemed stuffy, and his eyes looked red and swollen.
Way to go allergens, I thought to myself as I yawned and closed my eyes. My belly was full of Cedric’s wallet, and I’d been up most of the night making mischief. Now I felt utterly exhausted.
I awoke a short time later to someone sneezing violently right in my face. I guess I’d scooted to the edge of the Ottoman in my sleep and now had my nose right next to Cedric’s. He opened his eyes and pulled away in shock.
“What the—” He fumbled for his glasses, knocking over the lamp on the end table in the process. It caused a big crash and Miss Josie opened the door of her room, rubbing her eyes.
“Cedric. Are you okay?”
He sneezed again. “No. Capone slept next to me, and I’m having an allergic reaction.”
Cedric glared at me through puffy, swollen eyes. His nose seemed puffy and swollen, too—not a great look for him—and it dripped like a leaking faucet. He sniffed, grabbing a tissue from the box on Miss Josie’s coffee table, and sneezed again.
He was a mess. His hair stood on end. He held his head oddly to one side, wincing as he tried to stretch his neck, perhaps to relieve a crick from sleeping on the small couch.
Miss Josie straightened the lamp and patted me on the head. I wagged my tail and licked her hand. “Why did you let him out of his crate?” she asked. “I pushed it as far away as I could from you, hoping you wouldn’t breathe in his dander all night.”
Cedric blew his nose. “I didn’t let him out. You must have left it open.”
“I did not.”
For a second, it seemed like he might want to argue with her, but he thought better of it. “It doesn’t matter. Thanks for letting me stay. I appreciate it, Josie. I’ll be out of your way as soon as possible. Two days tops.”
“Two days?” she asked. “I thought you only needed to stay the night.”
Cedric’s lip trembled, the most pathetic thing I’d ever seen. “I don’t want to inconvenience you. I’ll find somewhere else to crash… a park bench or something.”
Rocco rolled his eyes. “Ridiculous,” he muttered. “He’s scamming her. He wouldn’t last two seconds on a park bench.”
Miss Josie, however, fell for it. “You can stay another day or two, I guess,” she said rather grudgingly.
Cedric pursed his thin lips. “You don’t sound happy about it.”
“I’m not happy about it, Cedric. Why would you even think I could be?”
“Well, you’ll be rid of me soon enough,” he said, his voice snippy and cold. “I have a lead on a place. I put the contact info into my wallet. Do you see my wallet anywhere?”
Miss Josie looked around and noticed the money all over the floor. “Uh-oh,” she said. When she leaned down to pick up the bills, she saw the credit cards lying beneath the couch. “This is not good.”
“What is it?” asked Cedric as he folded the blanket he’d borrowed from Miss Josie, a pale pink afghan.
“Um, Cedric,” she said wincing. “Capone may have gotten ahold of your wallet last night.”
Cedric froze. “What?” He knelt to gather the cash and credit cards. “Why would he do this? And where is my wallet?”
They both stared at me. Realization dawned on Miss Josie’s face. “I think he ate it.”
Cedric’s eyes widened. “The whole thing?”
“Well, he did remove your cash and credit cards first,” she said meekly. “That’s something, right?”
“It was an expensive wallet.”
“I’m sorry, Cedric, but you shouldn’t have let him out of his crate.”
Judging by the way his jaw tightened, Cedric wanted to argue the point. Instead, he took a deep, measured breath, and when he blew it out, he gave Miss Josie a tense little smile.
“Enough about my wallet,” he said. “Let’s go have brunch at Waffles Incaffienated. You love their bananas Foster waffles, and I want to thank you for helping me out last night.”
“I don’t know… “
“I insist. It’s the least I can do.”
She couldn’t seem to come up with an excuse not to go. “Fine, but I have to feed Capone and let him out first.”
“I’ll take him out,” he said. “And you can get ready. Now, where did I put my shoes?”
I hid under the kitchen table, terrified, as Cedric searched for his Italian loafers. This situation would not end well. Miss Josie took one look at me and immediately knew what had happened.
Curse my guilty conscience.
“Oh, no,” she said. “Capone, what did you do to Cedric’s shoes?”
Cedric let out what can only be described as a muffled scream of agony when he spotted them. “Not my Italian loafers. I bought these in Rome. I haven’t even paid for them yet.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Miss Josie.
Cedric sat on the couch, staring at the mangled loafers in his hands. “My shoes. My poor, beautiful shoes.”
Miss Josie let out something that sounded like a smothered laugh. When Cedric glared at her, she cleared her throat. “I need to take Capone outside. I’ll be back in a few minutes. We don’t have to go to breakfast. I know you’re upset.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m taking you to breakfast,” he said, slipping the loafers onto his feet. They looked ridiculous, and were still damp from my drool, but at least they seemed wearable. “And I’ll take Capone outside. I insist.”
We went outside, and Cedric knelt next to me, his face a mask of fury. He grabbed the back of my neck and squeezed, pinching me so hard I yelped in pain. “If you touch any of my things again, you’ll regret it. Do you understand me, Capone?”
I stared at him, knowing I had a big problem on my hands. Cedric looked murderous, and it was bad news indeed, especially since I appeared to be his intended victim.
Oh, calamity.