Read Online Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 05 - The Colony Cat Caper by Patricia Fry - Free Book Online
Authors: Patricia Fry
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on Savannah’s arm and said, “Now you’re the first ones here, so you sit where you’ll be most comfortable.” She glanced toward the front window. “I see headlights—more guests are coming in. So take your pick while you can.”
Savannah started to sit in a wingback chair when Margaret said, “Here, sit on the couch—looks cozy.”
Savannah considered Margaret’s suggestion and then said, “Naw, I’d be better off here—too hard to get up out of a soft sofa. I’d be stuck there until I deliver,” she quipped.
Margaret looked at Savannah and back at the sofa. “Oh yeah, I guess that could be a problem.” She walked over to the chair next to where Savannah sat and set tled in.
During the following fifteen minutes, the three women greeted several Alliance members as they came through the front door, and a half-dozen first-timers. The guests included a retired couple who often fed strays and hoped to get more involved, a woman in her fifties who wanted information about how to discourage stray cats from bothering her own cats, a 4-H leader who thought a cat colony might be a good project for her group, a gentleman who knew where there was a cluster of stray cats and wondered what to do about it, and a forty-something-year-old woman who happened to sit next to Margaret.
Margaret held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Margaret Sheridan. This is Savannah Ivey.”
“I’m Camille,” the woman said.
“Are you a cat person?” Margaret asked.
Camille looked down, her cropped black hair falling around her face. Then, peering at Margaret through large-rimmed glasses under long bangs and said, “Just curious.”
“Do you have cats?” Savannah asked.
“Yeah, lots of them, actually. They just find me…you know how it is.” Her smile revealed recently whitened, slightly crooked teeth. She adjusted the hem on her blouse with her fingers.
“I like your top,” Margaret said as she glanced down at Camille’s filmy, purple-and-black flowered blouse. “Just my style… and color,” she said, drawing attention to her own lavender print blouse.
Camille smiled, but did not comment.
“So are your cats feral or domesticated kitties?” Savannah asked.
“Just cats,” she said with a shrug. “Not pedigrees. I can pet them, if that’ s what you mean…well, some of them.”
Just as Ida was about to call the meeting to order, there was a light rap at the door. Before Colbi could respond, the door opened and Damon’s mother Iris stepped in.
“Hi, Iris,” Colbi said. “Welcome.”
Iris cringed s lightly and apologized. “Sorry I’m late. My replacement at the diner got caught in a traffic jam on his way back from Straley.”
“It’s okay,” Ida said with a smile. “We’re just getting started.”
Iris walked over and gave Savannah a hug and patted her bulging tummy before sitting across from her in an empty chair. Savannah smiled. Margaret reached out and squeezed Iris’s hand in greeting.
In the meantime, Ida took the chenille cat from her tote bag and pressed the sides.
“Meow, meow.”
“Will the special m eeting of the Hammond Cat Alliance please come to order,” she said.
As usual, several people chuckled and commented about the unconventional gavel substitute.
Just then Beth, one of the guests, said, “Oh looky. Isn’t it darling?”
Everyone strained in th e direction she pointed in time to see Dolly making an entrance. She walked into the room in a crouch, her eyes wide and her ears moving in all directions like antennae.
“Oh, how cute,” Ida remarked. She leaned toward the kitten and said, “Did you hear Me owster?” She picked up the stuffed cat and squeezed it again.
Dolly stopped, sat tall and tilted her head to one side, then the other.
Ida set the toy cat on the floor and Dolly walked cautiously toward it. Once the little tabby was finished checking the stuffed cat out from top to bottom, she turned, glanced around at the people in the room, and trotted over to
Savannah started to sit in a wingback chair when Margaret said, “Here, sit on the couch—looks cozy.”
Savannah considered Margaret’s suggestion and then said, “Naw, I’d be better off here—too hard to get up out of a soft sofa. I’d be stuck there until I deliver,” she quipped.
Margaret looked at Savannah and back at the sofa. “Oh yeah, I guess that could be a problem.” She walked over to the chair next to where Savannah sat and set tled in.
During the following fifteen minutes, the three women greeted several Alliance members as they came through the front door, and a half-dozen first-timers. The guests included a retired couple who often fed strays and hoped to get more involved, a woman in her fifties who wanted information about how to discourage stray cats from bothering her own cats, a 4-H leader who thought a cat colony might be a good project for her group, a gentleman who knew where there was a cluster of stray cats and wondered what to do about it, and a forty-something-year-old woman who happened to sit next to Margaret.
Margaret held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Margaret Sheridan. This is Savannah Ivey.”
“I’m Camille,” the woman said.
“Are you a cat person?” Margaret asked.
Camille looked down, her cropped black hair falling around her face. Then, peering at Margaret through large-rimmed glasses under long bangs and said, “Just curious.”
“Do you have cats?” Savannah asked.
“Yeah, lots of them, actually. They just find me…you know how it is.” Her smile revealed recently whitened, slightly crooked teeth. She adjusted the hem on her blouse with her fingers.
“I like your top,” Margaret said as she glanced down at Camille’s filmy, purple-and-black flowered blouse. “Just my style… and color,” she said, drawing attention to her own lavender print blouse.
Camille smiled, but did not comment.
“So are your cats feral or domesticated kitties?” Savannah asked.
“Just cats,” she said with a shrug. “Not pedigrees. I can pet them, if that’ s what you mean…well, some of them.”
Just as Ida was about to call the meeting to order, there was a light rap at the door. Before Colbi could respond, the door opened and Damon’s mother Iris stepped in.
“Hi, Iris,” Colbi said. “Welcome.”
Iris cringed s lightly and apologized. “Sorry I’m late. My replacement at the diner got caught in a traffic jam on his way back from Straley.”
“It’s okay,” Ida said with a smile. “We’re just getting started.”
Iris walked over and gave Savannah a hug and patted her bulging tummy before sitting across from her in an empty chair. Savannah smiled. Margaret reached out and squeezed Iris’s hand in greeting.
In the meantime, Ida took the chenille cat from her tote bag and pressed the sides.
“Meow, meow.”
“Will the special m eeting of the Hammond Cat Alliance please come to order,” she said.
As usual, several people chuckled and commented about the unconventional gavel substitute.
Just then Beth, one of the guests, said, “Oh looky. Isn’t it darling?”
Everyone strained in th e direction she pointed in time to see Dolly making an entrance. She walked into the room in a crouch, her eyes wide and her ears moving in all directions like antennae.
“Oh, how cute,” Ida remarked. She leaned toward the kitten and said, “Did you hear Me owster?” She picked up the stuffed cat and squeezed it again.
Dolly stopped, sat tall and tilted her head to one side, then the other.
Ida set the toy cat on the floor and Dolly walked cautiously toward it. Once the little tabby was finished checking the stuffed cat out from top to bottom, she turned, glanced around at the people in the room, and trotted over to
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