“And it’s you feeding the cats, that’s obvious. Which isn’t exactly helping the situation, you know?”
“You’re saying you’d want them to starve?”
“They’re cats. They kill birds and mice, or maybe you didn’t know that. So they don’t starve.”
“That’s not true. They way over-reproduce. If they aren’t caught and sterilized, they have litters and most of the kittens die of hunger or disease brought on by malnutrition.”
“And that’s my fault?”
“No. Look. All I’m asking is that you give people time to deal with this humanely. There are organizations dedicated to this, to rescuing animals who, through no fault of their own, are abandoned and living treacherous lives. We called one and they are on their way out here now. Let them do their job, and then you can do yours.”
The smoky-meat man had listened to Lucas but was still shaking his head. “Okay, that sounds like you’re quoting from a Web site or something, but it’s not what we’re talking about now. You got any idea how hard it is to get anything built these days, Lucas? There’s about a dozen agencies you have to work with. I finally got my demo permit after a year delay. A year. So I have to get working, now.”
“I’m not moving.”
“You’re seriously going to stand in front of a backhoe while it knocks down a house? You could get killed.”
“Fine.”
“You know what? I was going to do this the easy way, but you’re forcing my hand. I’m calling the cops.”
“Fine.”
“Anybody ever tell you you’re a stubborn little bastard?”
“Stubborn, maybe,” Lucas replied. “No one ever says I’m little.”
“Huh. You are a real piece of work.”
The man walked away without petting me, which was very unusual. We stood still for a long moment. The big machine went silent, and when the rumble quieted my body felt different, as if something had been squeezing me and now had stopped. Lucas put me down and I sniffed carefully at the dirt. I wanted to play but Lucas just wanted to stand there, and the leash did not give me much room to run around.
I wagged when more people showed up. There was a woman and a man, and they got out of yet another car. They were both wearing dark clothing and had metal objects on their hips.
“Police,” Lucas observed quietly. “Well, Bella, let’s see what happens now that the police are here.”
The two people in dark clothes went over and spoke to the man with the smoky meat fingers. Lucas seemed a little uneasy, but we did not move. I yawned, then wagged excitedly when the two people came over to see me. I could smell a dog on the woman, but not on the man.
“Oh my God, that’s a cute puppy,” the woman said warmly.
“This is Bella,” Lucas greeted. I loved that they were talking about me!
The woman was smiling at me. “What’s your name?”
“Lucas. Lucas Ray.”
“Okay, Lucas. Why don’t you tell us what is going on,” her male friend said.
The man spoke to Lucas while the woman knelt and played with me. I jumped on her hand. Now that I could sniff her I realized she actually had the scent of two separate dogs on her fingers. I licked them and could taste the dogs. The metal objects at her side rattled.
When the woman stood up I looked back to Lucas.
“But who is supposed to protect the cats, then, if not the police?” Lucas asked. It was the second time he had used that word “police.” I could tell he was upset and went to sit at his feet, hoping to help him be happy.
“You don’t have a role to play here. Understand?” The man in dark clothes gestured to the big machine. “I get why this bothers you, but you can’t interfere with a construction project. If you don’t leave we’re going to have to take you in.”
The woman with the two-dog smells touched Lucas on the arm. “The best thing for you and your puppy is to go home now.”
“Will you at least shine your flashlight in the crawl space?” Lucas asked. “You’ll see what I’m talking about.”
“I’m not sure that would make any difference,” the woman replied.
I watched as another car pulled up. This one was redolent with dogs and cats and even other animals. I lifted my nose in the air, sorting it all out.
The new vehicle contained a woman and a man. The man reached into the backseat and pulled out something big and set it on his shoulder. I could not smell what it was. He touched it and a strong light came from it, reminding me of the time when lights flooded in from the hole and flashed on the cats as they ran from it in the den.
I knew the woman. She was the person who had climbed under the house the day I met Lucas. I wagged at both the newcomers, happy to see them. There were so many people here!
“Hi, Audrey,” Lucas greeted.
“Hi, Lucas.”
I wanted to go see the woman, who I decided was named Audrey, but she and her friend stopped short of coming up to us. The light tracked across Lucas’s face and then settled on the dirt in front of the hole to the den.
The man with the smoky meat smells strode over. His footsteps were heavy and he gestured with his hands like a man throwing a toy for a dog. “Hey! There’s no filming here.”
Audrey moved closer to the man with the thing on his shoulder. “We’re filming you because you’re tearing down a dwelling that is home to feral cats!”
The smoky-meat man shook his head. “There are no cats here anymore!”
I tensed—Mother Cat! She paused for a moment at the edge of the hole, assessing her situation, and then streaked out into the open, running right past us and vanishing into some bushes at the back fence. I forgot I was on the leash when I tried to chase after her, pulling up short. Frustrated, I sat and yelped.
“Did you get that?” Audrey asked her friend.
“I got it,” replied the man with the thing on his shoulder.
“So, no cats?” Lucas said to the smoky-meat man.
“I want you to arrest those people,” the man shouted at the people in dark clothes.
“They’re standing on the sidewalk,” the man in the dark clothes observed calmly. “No law against that.”
“We’re not going to arrest anyone for filming,” the woman with the two-dog smell added. “And you did tell us there were no cats.”
“I’m with animal rescue,” Audrey said from where she stood. “We’ve already put in a call to the building commission. They are pulling the demolition permit because of the presence of feral cats. Officers, if he tears down this house, it will be an illegal act.”
“That’s impossible,” smoky-meat man sneered. “They don’t move that fast. They don’t even answer the damn phone that fast.”
“They do when one of our board members calls. She’s a county commissioner,” Audrey replied.
The two people in dark clothes looked at each other. “This is so not our department,” the man said.