Cat and Dog Stew

By Judy Carpenter

A short story collection following the lives and friendship of a band of six cats and six dogs. 

Although life and humans happen, through it all they are always friends. Occasionally they find themselves in situations that Nikki, the little black Yorkie says, “shouldn’t happen to a dog.” But with the help and support of all the animals there is no situation, or “stew,” from which they can’t rescue each other.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: BHC Press/Barking Frog
• Release date: May 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386264125

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Copyright © 2017 Judy Carpenter

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published by Barking Frog

an imprint of BHC Press

Library of Congress Control Number:

2017935176

Print edition ISBN numbers:

ISBN-13: 978-1-946006-84-4

ISBN-10: 1-946006-84-X

Visit the author at:

www.bhcpress.com

Book design by Blue Harvest Creative

www.blueharvestcreative.com

Illustrations by Alli Kappen

To Bill, my husband, who keeps me laughing.

To my daughter Tara, who always triumphs.

To my daughter Amber, who inherited my silliness.

To my grandchildren Austin, Tori, Celeste, Wyatt, Isaiah,

and Elijah, who have all brightened my life.

Each one of you has a piece of my heart.

And to Almighty God, Master of the universe,

for giving me breath and the ability to laugh at life.

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My name is Lady Chelsea Fairborn Patsy the Third, but my owner, Mary, just calls me Lady Chelsea, and sometimes L.C. I am a longhaired calico cat, and Mary and I live on Cherry Street in the Orchard subdivision in Cherry Grove, Ohio.

We live in a nice little house, just big enough for the two of us. Mary and I have the perfect relationship. That’s why I was really shocked the day she decided to get me a companion.

Mary had gone to work that day, as usual. I went through my usual routine of fern-munching, catnip mouse-hiding, and sewing basket-sitting. Then I took a nice long nap. I woke up a little before Mary was due to come home.

I was sitting on the windowsill in the living room when I saw Mary’s car pull into the driveway. I saw her get out and walk around to the side of the house. She was carrying a box. I didn’t know it, but that box was going to change my life.

The kitchen door opened and Mary called out, Lady Chelsea! Come see what I have!

Now, everyone knows that a cat never comes when it is first called. So I waited patiently until she had called me two more times. Then I slowly made my way into the kitchen. I stopped in the doorway, without looking at her, and started cleaning my paws.

Mary set the box on the floor and said, Come look, Lady Chelsea!

I like Mary a lot, and it would be easy to spoil her, so I have to be careful. I licked my paws a few seconds more and then I strolled over to look in the box. Imagine my horror when I saw, inside the box, a cute little shorthaired calico kitten!

I brought you a companion, Mary said. Someone to keep you company while I’m at work all day. Isn’t she beautiful? Her name is Bobbin.

What have you done? I hissed at Mary. Then I did the only sensible thing. I ran back into the bedroom and hid under the bed.

Chelsea! What’s wrong? Mary asked. Then she started calling me: Here, kitty, kitty! Here, kitty Chelsea! Here, Lady Chelsea! But I ignored her. Bobbin, indeed!

Mary came into the bedroom. She had the nerve to bring that kitten with her. Look, Lady Chelsea. Isn’t she cute? She’ll keep you company while I’m at work. Please come out and meet her.

Mary put That Kitten onto the floor. It sat there, looking around, casing the joint, I’m sure. Mary kept trying to get me to come out, but I knew this was a make or break situation. I had to establish my position. Any appearance of weakness on my part would appear as acceptance of that, that companion, that interloper, That Kitten, and I would not have it.

After a few more minutes of coaxing, Mary gave up. She took That Kitten and returned to the kitchen. I stayed under the bed, stewing.

After a while, Mary called, Dinner time, Lady Chelsea! I was hungry, but I didn’t leave the safety of the cavern under the bed.

Over the next several hours, Mary tried every trick in the book, but I stayed firm. No matter how hungry or thirsty I was, I was determined that Mary would get rid of That Kitten by morning.

What followed was a long, miserable night. My stomach growled, and my mouth got dry. But that was nothing compared to my need for the litter box. I almost weakened several times, but every time I felt my resolve starting to shatter, I would comfort myself with images of how I could get rid of That Kitten.

I first thought of burying her in the kitty litter box, but it was too shallow. She could easily dig her way out. Besides, the thought of doing my business in there afterwards made me cringe. I thought of feeding her the berries from the plant Mary said was poison and would kill me. But since Mary kept the plant in a special container I had never been able to get to it. Thus the night passed, and finally the morning came.

Mary’s alarm went off and she went about her morning preparations. I felt as if were dying, from hunger, from thirst, and from intestinal and bladder discomfort. It seemed like Mary took twice as long as usual to shower and get dressed.

Finally I heard her keys rattling, and she called out, Good-bye, Lady Chelsea! Good-bye, Bobbin! Take good care of Bobbin, Lady Chelsea! And I heard the door open, and shut.

Just to be certain I waited until I heard her car start and then move out of the driveway. Then I made record time to the litter box. My paws had barely hit the clay before I did my business. I don’t mind saying I never felt so relieved in all my nine lives!

From there I ran to the water bowl. I drank, and drank, and drank. Then I looked over at my kibble dish, and realized for the first time that Mary was an evil person. She did not play fair. She had filled my dish with canned salmon. She knows how much I love canned salmon, but I only get a small amount, on special occasions. She really wanted me to eat! I looked at the dish sadly, and returned to the bedroom where I took up my place under the bed. At last, still hungry but neither thirsty nor uncomfortable, I slept.

I woke a few hours later, with an uncomfortable feeling of being watched. I opened one eye and came face to face with That Kitten. When I realized it was under the bed with me, I jumped up and hit my head on the bottom of the bed. Then I hissed my meanest hiss, and That Kitten had the intelligence to leave the bedroom entirely. I could not believe she had had the nerve to invade my territory. But the worst thing was that I had distinctly smelled salmon on her breath!

When it was close to time for Mary to return home, I made another trip to the litter box and the water bowl. I looked at my food dish and sure enough my salmon that Mary had left for me had been chewed on. My resolve doubled. That Kitten had to go!

Mary came home, and she lost no time in searching for me. When she found me in the bedroom, still under the bed, I knew I had her. Oh, Lady Chelsea, she murmured,