Chapter 33

Monday at 7am ... Miss Child Protection Agency banged on the hull. The cats swarmed her. Everybody but Murray ... Murray is withholding judgement.

“Vho ess et?” Zoe said ... a direct steal from The Holy Grail.

“Your ride,” she said. “Wait ... the accent ... I want the other one.”

“Next door ... this is OUR boat ... that one is HER boat.”

It is the boat next door ... at the tip of the next pier.

“Shit,” said Miss Agent. That’s a long walk.”

“I’m up,” I shouted. “I’m just thermosing the coffee. I’ll meet you on the shore.”

Zoe walked down the pier with the agent. The agent looked a question.

“You get me too. And Junior.”

“Three of you?”

“And I’m the only one married.”

Junior had stayed with me. The four of us met ... I shared cups and coffee.

“Ooo. Good coffee,” sipped the agent.

“Jamaican Blue Mountain,” I said... “French Press.”

It could have been more companionable but Miss Agency was trying. The cats helped. Tyche ran after us.

“Murray!” she hollered, “Corral your kids ... they have to go with us ... don’t give me any of your looks ... they all have to get registered.”

So ... after we three, Junior, Zoe and I ... got poked, prodded, inspected and tested ... were confirmed pregnant the paperwork began. Junior was easy...

WHERE? The tipi at 19th and Piney Ridge. Hamlin Lake

WHEN? Central Michigan University, Ferris State University Fireworks Kegger.

WHO? No Clue.

Oh ... she knew ... she wasn’t saying. Her kid was going to be an Austin ... it’s a family tradition.

Me?

Can you imagine the length of hospitalization if I told the truth? A tropical island in the middle of the Black Sea?

“Psst ... Junior.”

“Lemme see what you wrote.”

I filled out:

WHERE? The tipi at 19th and Piney Ridge. Hamlin Lake

WHEN? Ferris State University, Central Michigan University, Fireworks Kegger.

WHO? No Clue.

Zoe?

At home with my husband, JW Flintkote.

Zoe was later than Junior and me.

JW was out at the Animal Control Office.

Well ... he was ... and that’s what Zoe told the doctor.

Then she said... “I’ll bet you hear that all the time.”

The doc laughed, “Not that location ... but all kinds of excuses.”

“He and Tyche ... she’s my four year old ... are registering a fleet of kittens and two cats.”

“Wait,” said the panicking Animal Control receptionist. “You can’t just walk in ... the cats have to be in kennels.”

Murray put his paws on the counter and purred.

Tyche said, “Tell him that.”

The girl behind the counter looked Murray in the eye, “Are you going to be trouble?”

“Morrow.” Murray Yawned ... not yawned ... YAWNED ... Murray has great teeth and a mouthful of ‘em. The look was... ‘Go with what you got, kid.’

“Let me just page the Vet,” she said ... and did.

“Fifteen minutes,” she wasn’t talking to the humans.

Murray got down ... had a conversation with his wife and kids. The kittens lined up by age and sat. If it had been the Army ... they would be at parade rest. Mom stalked the line, inspected and cleaned any imagined imperfection. If there had been any doubt ... Mom was the officer ... Murray was the Sergeant. Murray watched. No kitten moved. Satisfied, mom sat in front of Murray and purred... ‘My children are ready.’

“Doc ... you have to see this ... get out here.”