She was seriously taken aback by this. In her experience the perfect interlocutor was one who didn’t ask questions of his own, but merely sat there quietly and listened. Then again, if Dooley was also having some personal issues, maybe it was something in the water. Or the food. Which would explain things.
“Of course you’ll find love. Don’t be silly. Handsome cat like you? I bet the ladies are chomping at the bit to snap you up. Now where was I? Oh, that’s right. So Brutus keeps smiling in his sleep, which, thinking back, is what started it all. No cat should be smiling in their sleep. It means something. Don’t you agree?”
It was a rhetorical question, just like most of her questions when she was in offloading mode. But for some reason Dooley felt the need to respond, which was exactly why she wouldn’t have selected him as a sounding board in the first place.
“Brutus dreams of birds a lot lately,” said Dooley. “He told me he dreams of birds all the time. Red birds and blue birds, and green birds and yellow birds. He sees them everywhere, and they’ve even begun to occupy his waking moments, which is annoying, for he’s starting to see birds thataren’t even there, I guess.”
“Oh?” she said. Somehow it chimed with what her mate had told her himself, but still she found it hard to believe. “I think I know what’s going on,” she said after a moment’s reflection. “These birds he keeps seeing aren’t really birds at all.”
“Oh, no, but they’re real. Red birds and blue birds and green birds and—”
“No, they’re not. They’re allegorical birds. They represent all the girls Brutus wants to go out with, but is not allowing himself to, because he’s in a serious and monogamous relationship with yours truly.”
“What’s a mogomagous relationship?” asked Dooley, but she ignored this outburst.
She was onto something here. Something deep.“I think Brutus wants to fool around. Relive his bachelor days. Only I’m standing in his way, so he’s seeing birds everywhere.” She nodded seriously. “It’s psychology 101, Dooley. Freudian slips and all of that. He’s cheating on me… with birds!”
And since there was no point in hanging around one who sat staring at her as if he was seeing birds himself, she abruptly turned on her heel and strode off.
“If he thinks he can cheat on me, he’s got another thing coming!” she cried.
CHAPTER 3
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Brutus, who’d been taking in some peaceful slumber, was awakened once again by a vicious prod in the lower ribs. When he opened his eyes he found himself gazing into the furious features of his one true love.
“You’ve been cheating on me!” Harriet screamed, her eyes shooting bolts of fire that made the atmosphere crackle and pop. “Cheating on me again and again!”
“But, sugar lips!” he said. “Where do you—”
“And don’t tell me it’s only birds. Those birds mean something! I know my Freud. It’s girls you want, dozens and dozens of them, and preferably all at the same time, and of different age and plumage!”
“But, tweetums!”
“Don’t you tweetums me, you cheater!”
“But lemon drop!”
Suddenly the temperature seemed to drop about ten degrees as she turned the frostiness on full blast.“I’ve got some good news and some bad news for you,Brutus. The good news is that from now on you’re free. Free to do whatever you want with whatever bird you want!”
He gulped.“And the bad news?”
“That we’re through!” And with these words, and one final icy glance in his direction, she was off, leaving him reeling and wondering what had just hit him. A cyclone? A tornado? Or one of those tsunamis that were all the rage right now? At any rate, he’d had better moments awaking from a pleasant and peaceful dream.
And as he thought about Harriet’s words, he suddenly found himself thinking that maybe she was right. He had been dreaming about birds a lot. In fact he’d been daydreaming about birds just as much as he’d been regular-dreaming. He’d even told Dooley about it recently. But the latter had just stared at him, as he often did. So did Harriet have a point? Were these birds a sign? But a sign of what?
Just then, he spotted Max wandering around the backyard, looking a little lost himself. So he whistled his friend. If he knew anything, it was that Max always had a solution for everything. Max knew. He was clever that way. Annoying, of course, but in cases like this, also darn useful.
“Max! Over here!” he yelled.
Max came trundling up, taking his sweet time doing it. When you’re as big as the blorange cat was, going from point A to point B always took some time.
“Hey, Brutus,” said Max, in a sad sort of undertone. Brutus ignored it. He had more important problems to deal with right now than Max’s aptness for gloom.
“Harriet and I had a big fight just now,” he announced, and to his satisfaction saw that his words didn’t fail to grip. “Yeah, she says I’ve been dreaming of other girls, while in fact I’ve been dreaming of birds. Birds of different colors, in fact.”
“Oh, that’s right. You see birds, don’t you? Just like that kid in that movie.”
