Purrfect Harmony (The Mysteries of Max Book 36) by Nic Saint

Author:Nic Saint [Saint, Nic]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Puss in Books
Published: 2021-03-24T22:00:00+00:00

17

That night cat choir was an exhilarated affair. Harriet had told the others about our upcoming appointment with greatness, and excited murmurings had quickly spread throughout Hampton Cove’s cat population, most of whom are members of cat choir.

“Did you hear that, Shanille?” asked Kingman. “We’re going to be singing at an actual concert—an actual live concert in front of an audience that doesn’t consist of a bunch of shoe-throwing rubes!”

“I heard,” said Shanille. She looked a little discombobulated, which was only to be expected, of course, since she now was going to be faced with the enormous responsibility of having to prepare the first-ever cat concert in the world! “Oh, my,” she said, as her chest rapidly rose and fell. “oh, my, my.”

“This is great news. We’re going to be famous, Shanille. If this goes well and this show goes on the road we’re talking Broadway, international tours, and then… Hollywood!”

“Oh, my,” Shanille repeated, and I could tell from her glittering eyes that she was picturing it all: the applause, the rave reviews, the accolades, maybe even an Emmy, a Grammy, an Oscar, a Tony! And I could see her mentally rehearse an acceptance speech, teary-eyed and in a quaking voice thanking her collaborators, her agent, her manager and of course her human for the tons of kibble over the years.

And while cat choir whipped itself up into a frenzy over this amazing opportunity, Dooley and I took a seat underneath the jungle gym and decided to take a load off. It had been a busy day, with not much opportunity for our usual nap. From the moment Neda’s body had been discovered by her faithful secretary, it had been one interview after another, and even though we may be experienced sleuths by now, we’re also cats, and cats need their nap time—preferably the whole eighteen hours of it!

“What do you think about this concert, Dooley?” I now asked as I placed my head on my front paws and let my eyes droop closed.

“I think it’s going to be great,” said my friend. “Though I’m not sure if Hampton Cove is ready for a cat choir concert.”

He eyed the shoe that had recently been thrown in our direction. It was a Nike shoe, though it had seen better days. No one ever throws new Nikes at us, only the old ones they don’t need anymore.

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“Well, we may think we’re good, but humans judge things by different standards, don’t they?”

“They most certainly do.”

“And frankly I don’t think we’re quite there yet.”

Harriet, who was over the moon with joy, now decided this was a good moment to sing one of her signature arias. It mainly consisted of a long caterwaul, which began quite modestly enough, in the lower register, then rose in ever-modulated intensity to the mid-range of her powerful voice, to end on a high note, one of those screeches that have the capacity to break glass, which luckily wasn’t available there in the park.

Promptly a large shoe came flying in her direction and hit her squarely in the snoot.

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