Purrfect Advice (The Mysteries of Max Book 22) by Nic Saint

Author:Nic Saint [Saint, Nic]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Puss in Print Publications
Published: 2020-05-01T16:00:00+00:00

20

“I think we should ask Chloe,” said Dooley as we both stared at the droppings the mouse had left for our perusal.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t know what to do, and neither do you, so why don’t we ask someone who knows everything there is to know about everything?”

It was a good idea, I had to admit. I had no experience dealing with mice, and neither did Dooley, and from what I’d seen of Harriet and Brutus handling—or rather, not handling—the previous mice infestation, they had no clue how to handle these rodents either, so that only left Chloe to help us deal with this emergency.

And as luck would have it, Harriet walked in at that moment, accompanied by Brutus, and when she found us gathered around the droppings, frowned and asked, “What are you guys doing over there?”

“We have another question for Chloe,” I announced.

“And this time it’s a matter of life or death,” Dooley added the somber note.

He was right, of course. Life or death of the mouse colony, for Odelia had given us strict instructions to get rid of the mice or else. I could only imagine to what measures she might resort if we didn’t manage to persuade the mice to vacate the premises voluntarily. Images of mouse traps and poison came to mind, all not very humane, in my view.

Harriet, her curiosity piqued, came tripping up to take a closer look at the object that had snagged our attention and necessitated a Chloe intervention.

She took one sniff and wrinkled up her nose in disgust. “Eww!” she said, perfectly expressing my own sentiments exactly.

“What is it, baby cakes?” asked Brutus.

“Max had a little accident,” she said. “Couldn’t you hold it in until you reached your litter box, Max? Or was it you, Dooley?”

“Me!” I cried. “I didn’t do this!”

Harriet turned a reproachful eye on Dooley. The latter wilted under the onslaught, but still managed to squeak out, “It wasn’t me, I swear!”

“If you didn’t do it, then who did?”

“The mouse!” Dooley cried. He doesn’t like it when Harriet is upset with him, and neither, I have to admit, do I, though I’ve gotten used to her volcanic temper over the years.

“Mouse? What mouse?”

“Don’t you remember, bright eyes?” said Brutus. “The mice are back.”

Harriet paled beneath her fur. Hard to spot, I know, but I still spotted it.

“They’re back?” she asked.

“Yes, looks like,” I said. “Though I don’t know if they’re the same mice from before or a fresh batch.”

“I’ll bet it’s the same ones,” said Dooley. “The one we just saw was very rude, and just left these droppings here for us to find. As if challenging us, you know.”

“Oh, it’s the same ones all right,” said Harriet. “Only Molly and Rupert would behave in such a disgraceful way. Those two have absolutely no shame.”

“Molly and Rupert?” I asked. “I didn’t know you were on a first-name basis with them.”

“If you spend enough time down there,” she said, gesturing to the basement door, “you will get to know them soon enough.

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