A NOVEL -AGNES ON THE MOVE – CHAPTER 4 – BY LORELIE & TIM OLSON

“Where do I turn off for the motel?” Carolyn asked

“Take the second exit sign past the city center.   You might slow down so we don’t miss it.”

Carolyn braked and gradually the car slowed down.  Perched carefully on top of the rear seat, I felt cooped up, like being in a cage.  I’d had quite enough of being on that stupid leash.  At least my new harness was more comfortable.  My legs twitched.  We came to a stop before a low, rambling beige building and quickly unloaded. 
After I was walked,  David fed me, but I wasn’t hungry and ignored the kibbles.  Exposing their hairless bodies, the Rasmussens left me in the room while they took a quick swim in the motel pool.  Jump into water?  Yuck.  I snoozed in a shaft of sunlight filtered by the room’s curtains. After they returned, Carolyn announced, “Hurry up boys, take a quick shower.  We are going across the street for a real meal.”  As soon as they were out, I explored the room.  I easily opened the cabinets which were held shut by magnets,but nothing  was in them.  Since we had a room on the ground level, we had a sliding glass door opening onto a small concrete patio and a grassy area.  The door was locked higher than I could reach and I had no luck finding a way out, so I curled up in the corner of the only chair for yet another short snooze. 

The Rasmussens, all of them yawning when they returned from the restaurant, went straight to bed.  The boys didn’t even complain about sleeping  in the same bed.  A slight breeze rippled the curtains next to the sliding door.  Silently, as only a cat can move,  I pulled the curtain away from the sliding door and found the door open just enough for me to slither through, but the screen door was closed.  I, of course, knew how to make hole in a screen door. I had plenty of experience for this job.  The Rasmussens were sound asleep and didn’t hear the greetch, greetch of my claws on the screen. Soon I could get a paw though a hole.  Greetcch .  . Greetch.

“Jake, I hear something,” Carolyn whispered.  “Where’s Agnes?”

Oh, no – just when I was so close!

“Uh, I don’t hear anything. What did it sound like?” Jake whispered back.  They didn’t want to wake the boys.

“A grating noise, like Agnes’s claws.”

I leaped back  on the chair and curled up just the way I was when the Rasmussens returned from eating. Jake picked up a flashlight and holding his finger  across the lighted part, spanned the room.  “Agnes is just where she was when we went to bed, sound asleep on the chair next to the door. Go back to sleep, stop worrying.”

“All right, but you might check things.”

“Not necessary.  I need some sleep.”

That Jake – he always sees what he wants to see and Carolyn would really like to believe him.  I waited for their even breathing and went back to work, more slowly and with less of that greetching sound.   I almost meowed when the screen pulled a few hairs from my  paw, but the hole was finally big enough for slender me to squeeze through, and I did.

After some necessary time in a shrub bed with much needed privacy, I set out to explore.  A cat’s rumble behind me stopped me.  My legs were prepared to spring away when I turned to face a huge orange fluffy tom cat.  He glared at me.  His back humped;  his tail stiffened.  I hunched myself up as high as I could and growled.  He inched forward.  I slunk back down, gurgled  and backed up toward the shrubbery.  He arched his back even further and his tail stood straight up.  When he stiff hopped towards me with his front paw jabbing at my chest,  I  swatted him on the paw and spit.  He backed off and I continued to explore.

The night was wonderfully warm.  My shadow cat tagged along, but avoided getting too close.  How was I going to explore with him tagging along?  I darted around a corner, but not twenty feet in from of me was a snoring dog.  The orange tom bounced up beside me, sighted the dog, skidded and loped back around the corner.  Good riddance.  The black dog wasn’t the size of mush-mouth and he was tied to a stake. I checked the length of his chain and the  size of the stake stuck firmly in the ground.   Then I stalked him.  Close to the ground, tail straight back – I’ve tortured several neighborhood dogs with this trick.  Nearer, nearer, my left paw’s claws extended. I darted close.  Swat!  Swat!

Blackie charged.  One graceful leap and I landed beyond his chain’s length.  His chain collar choking him, Blackie somersaulted, landed on his back and yelped.  I dashed in, struck again, and casually walked out of danger as Blackie gasped for air.  He was on his feet, howling and straining against his chain.  I sat beyond his teeth and cleaned the hairs from between my claws.  Lights went on in several motel rooms.

A man opened his door, “Hey you, whoever owns that stupid dog, will you shut that mutt up before I do it for you?”

I disappeared int the darkness.

“Midnight, what are you barking at?”

A man in pajamas swatted Midnight and the dog yelped again.  Dumb dog.  I watched the lights go off and all was quiet again.  I continued on my way toward a brightly lit area.  Several people were sitting and watching other people play in a tub filled with water just like the Rasmussens had done before dinner.  What a strange thing to do.  Out of curiosity, I decided to join the people watching.  A man  with very hairy legs looked particularly inviting, so I gently rubbed against his ankle.

“Shoosh, get away!  What’s a cat doing here?”
I got a boot in  the stomach for my friendliness.  Some humans!  I barely missed going in the water.  

“You poor kitty.  Here kitty, kitty.  Are you hurt?” a white haired  woman called to me.

I cautiously approached her.

“Aren’t you cute.  I won’t hurt you. I just want to pet you.”

I jumped into  her lap.  I never could resist a compliment.  “You are such a nice kitty.  Are you lost? Could you use some food?”  Food? Suddenly I was hungry.  I put my paws on her on her chest and looked deep into  her eyes.

“George, I think this poor little kitty is lost and hungry.”  The man she called George looked disgustedly at both of us, but we ignored him.  “George, would you run over to the Shortstop and see whether they have liver?  Tuna will be all right.  Solid white if they have it.  If nothing else, canned cat food will do.”

Did she say liver?  I pulled in my stomach and appeared even scrawnier.

“Janet, they certainly don’t have liver at the Shortstop . Anyway,  she probably belongs to the manager and helps keep the place free of rats.”

“I’ll go right in and check.”

I allowed her to carry me into the office where, of course,  she found out that I did not belong to the manager.  The person behind a desk did tell her that sometimes a guest of the motel will have a pet and not register it which is strictly against the rules.

When we returned, Janet said, “George, I think she is clearly a stray.  Look how thin she is.  If you get some gin, I’ll fix you a drink.  We already have some tonic and a lime in the room. The Safeway is only a block further than the Short Stop across the street.”  She knew how to get George on his feet.  

George returned not only with the gin but also with liver but real cream.  We went inside where Janet prepared George his drink.  After he sat down with his drink, Janet handed me to George while she prepared my food in glass dishes – not the plastic margarine tubs often put on the floor for me.  Janet placed the liver and cream on the floor and George released me on the floor.  Soon I was feasting on red, slippery, liver and lapping thick cream.

“George?”

“Yes?”
“We will be going home tomorrow night; maybe we should take her with us.  She’s an awfully nice kitty.”

I missed a lap of my cream. 

“I don’t think so.  Who would take care of her when we want to take off?  We agreed to no more pets after I retired and the kids were gone.” 

I took another bite of liver. 

“George, I’m surprised at you.  At least we could find her a home.  I hate to just turn her loose.  Did you see how that one man kicked her?”

I was in trouble and I knew it.  I turned my  head to find an open window, but saw  that all had screens on them.  I puffed out my stomach.  

“Yes, we could do that, but maybe she lives near here.  She doesn’t appear to be starving.  Look how fat she is.”

 I left the last few morsels, a luxury I can’t afford with the Rasmussen’s great gulper and tried to look even fatter.

 “Of course she looks fat; she just ate.  The poor thing, her stomach is extended from overeating.”

I enjoy being spoiled, but for better or worse, the Rasmussens are my people. Besides, I planned on going to Disneyland  and chase that fat mouse.  I went to the door and meowed rapidly.  I scratched the rug and pawed the door.

George got the point, “ She wants out.”

“Maybe she will run away if we let her out.”

“Another alternative is she might go home.  Janet, she came to you when you called.  Let her decide.  I’ll let her out and if she comes back, we’ll take her with us.  If she runs away, she’s probably going home.”

“Well, I’m going out with her.  I hate to think of such a beautiful cat without someone to love her.”

Thanks, George.  And Janet, you’ve got great taste.

George opened the door and Janet stepped out with me.  When she put me on the ground, I brushed against her legs in gratitude.  When she bent over to scoop me up, I leaped aside and bounded off into the darkness.  I wanted to wash up and get some sleep.   Finding the screen withe the hole, I slipped in, leaped onto Jake’s and Carolyn’s bed and went to work.  Slurp, slurp, my left paw was clean.  Now for the right, sluuuurp.

“Agnes would you stop that!”  With that Carolyn threw me off the bed.  Humans!  I was more than half tempted to return to George and Janet.

I drifted off, however, dreaming of the big mouse in Disneyland.