Chapter 36

Her Facebook page had 200 hits in an hour. The haters had a field day with the posting.

“Impossible.”

“You have a job with animation.”

“Best fake I’ve ever seen.”

“Quit wasting my time and bandwidth.”

And many variations of like theme.

But...”That’s so cute.”

“Better than Grumpy.”

“Are they for sale?”

“Where is Ludington?”

By Tuesday her page had one hundred thousand hits. Wednesday she posted the video on UTube.

Thursday, UTube closed down her page for two hours ... too many views.

Friday, she posted ‘Fishing Cat.’ Murray had been spotted diving in the water and catching fish. Someone reported the incident to the Animal Control neglecting to state exactly where the fishing was taking place. Miss Counter Clerk, grabbed the Shelter camera, locked up, posted, ‘Out to Lunch’ on the Shelter door and drove to the mole.

The Animal Shelter paddy wagon was at the mole ... the officer was looking too.

“Where is Murray?” Miss Clerk asked.

“Who is Murray?”

“The Bengal,” she said.

“I’m looking for him ... did he get registered and chipped?”

“Monday,” she said.

“The time?”

“Before closing ... all 8 of them,” she said.

“Eight?”

“Murray, Silver and six kittens,” she said, “The girl paid. Get this ... two hundred dollars. She did the math in her head.”

“Four years old?” He looked bewildered. “Wait ... Silver?”

“Mom ... silver Bengal. Tyche says cats tend to name themselves.”

“So ... where is the fisher cat?”

“You got a report too?”

“Yup.” The Animal Control officer said, “A charter boat ... wait ... the City Marina.”

The Flint isn’t backed into a berth. She’s too long. No ... the big Cat was tied up to the longest Tee pier in the Marina and still stuck both bow and stern past the Tee ends. Understand ... the Tee is also the fuel and water dock for the charter fishing boats and they didn’t like the Cat tied up and in their way.

But, when the charter boat delegation approached the management, Mr. Mayor said, “A buck and a half a foot ... a day ... One hundred thirty-five dollars ... a day ... every day. You guys think I’m gonna pass that up? And there’s TWO of them ... the little one pays Ninety-one bucks a day ... and she’s never bounced a check,” that got a glare and some guilty looks, “ ... besides the money ... that’s the most decorative bunch of women that ever graced a beach ... and they choose to tan on board in MY marina ... Wild Weasel suits they call ‘em. Next to nothing I call ‘em. No! I won’t move ‘em. I hope they stay all summer.”

Murray was on the bow scanning the shadow under the trampoline. The kittens were either nursing on Silver or demolishing a big Coho salmon at one of the sugar scoops.

On the Tee dock, Tyche was sitting in a pipe frame ... sitting is an inaccurate term. She was strapped in and working a control stick and pedals. The pipe frame was in uncomfortable attitudes ... the Animal Control officer cleared his throat.

For added realism, JW had a big fan sitting in front of the frame ... the blades were turning on high and Tyche’s long while silk scarf was stretched out and fluttering.

“Hi,” Tyche said. “Gimme a minute. I’ll land and we can chat. Daddy?”

“Tyche?”

“Is the parking lot clear?”

“Yes.”

The pipe frame straightened out and Tyche got this look of extreme concentration. Pretty soon a quarter scale Pitts biplane landed on the parking lot, Tyche said, “HA! cheated death again.” She had that little grin pilots get with each safe landing.

The model plane bumped its way down the pier and out to the Tee. The motor shut off and Tyche unbuckled and unstrapped. She unwound a cord and plugged it in the little airplane and plugged a second larger cord in the back of the pipe frame.

She took off a leather helmet and flying goggles and unwound the scarf. She looked at the officer.

“What are you doing!”

“Flying.”

“Who said?”

“The princess.”

“You’re four.”

“I’m a Flintkote ... age doesn’t mean a thing.”