Mermare Magic

Homeless Again Shiloh knew what the loud knock at the door meant even before he heard the voices. It was difficult to move in the bed with two of the smaller puppies wedged on his left side and the dead weight of a larger, snoring puppy lying on his tail, but he struggled up onto one elbow. “Bailiffs here! We have reason to believe you have been living here unlawfully!” came the familiar announcement from outside. Shiloh knew what to do. He pulled his tail out from under the snorer and shook all the occupants of the bed awake. “Time to go,” he whispered. Tiny growls came from the puppies but they too knew the drill. Yawning and rubbing their eyes, they rolled out of bed and grabbed essential toys and pillows. The bedroom door creaked open as Mrs. Tubbs, their mother, appeared with one puppy tucked under an arm and several small heads bobbing in the darkness behind her. “Oooh, it gets worse every time. Coming after dark, I tell you! What do they think they’re doing!” she said hoarsely, her voice full of tired outrage. “Repossessing the property for the rightful owner,” offered Shiloh, factually. Mrs. Tubbs frowned. “Now you get along, young cat. Take those pups to Mr. Tubbs. He’s at the back window. We’ll hop into the alley and be off in a jiffy.” Shiloh gripped his rolled-up raincoat and took the smallest puppy by the paw. Mr. Tubbs was already outside the window. He heaved his many offspring, then Shiloh, through the window and pushed them onto the back of the truck. “Always think ahead when you park your vehicle.” He offered this gruff wisdom to Shiloh as he gave him a leg-up into the chaos of chair legs, puppy legs, blankets, toys, and pots and pans on the back of the truck. Last out of the window came Mrs. Tubbs. It always surprised Shiloh how quickly his foster parents could move, considering their bulk. They had floppy ears, heavy jowls, thick paws, and they looked even bigger than normal now in their “travelling coats” – huge raincoats buttoned to the neck, rustling and clinking with the many possessions pocketed inside. “Possession is nine tenths of the law” was one of Mr. Tubbs’ favorite sayings. The Bailiff’s voice and more banging drifted faintly from the front door. “Would you like to open the door, please? We’d rather not break it down.” Mrs. Tubbs twisted around in the truck’s passenger seat. “All in?” One of the older puppies gave a sleepy thumbs-up. “Away we go, George!” said Ms. Tubbs to her husband. “Home is where the heart is, I always say!” Shiloh sometimes wished their hearts could stay in one place for longer. Securing his rolled-up raincoat as a pillow, he nudged himself a crevice among the warm bodies and household goods. As they trundled away in the moonlight, he felt grateful for his strange dog family. It was better than no family at all, even for a cat.