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clear,” I said, nodding in full comprehension and agreement. I had entertained the same thought myself, to be honest. Wherever hundreds of humans get together, it’s best for cats to go into hiding, as it can only lead to trouble.

“And the other thing—I didn’t want to bring this up, as I don’t want to heap more pressure onto Odelia—but you guys, we haven’t even been invited yet! So I think it’s safe to say we’re not going to.”

“Not going to what?” asked Brutus, the fourth member of our fearsome foursome as he walked in through the kitchen pet flap.

“Harriet just said we’re not going to be invited to the wedding,” said Dooley. “And how that’s probably a good thing?”

“Oh, right,” said Brutus, who’s a big, butch black cat and also Harriet’s mate. “Can’t say I’m surprised,” he said as he inspected his food bowl and then hunkered down to gobble up a few random nuggets.

“Why do you say that?” I asked. “I thought we were definitely going to be included in the festivities. We are Odelia’s pets, so why wouldn’t she invite us to share the most beautiful day of her life?”

“About that,” said Dooley. “Why does everyone keep saying that, Max?”

“Saying what?”

“The most beautiful day in Odelia’s life? I thought the most beautiful day in her life was the day she was born. If she hadn’t been born, she wouldn’t even be here, right?”

“It’s just something people say,” I explained. “It means that Odelia finally gets to tie the knot with the person she loves the most in all the world.”

“But… doesn’t Odelia love her mom and dad the most in all the world?” asked Dooley, still in the habit of asking those tough questions, like he usually does.

“Well, yes,” I admitted. “But, once again, it’s just something people say.”

“But why do they say things that aren’t true? Isn’t that the same thing as lying?”

“Look, Dooley, it doesn’t matter,” said Harriet, clearly tiring of Dooley’s interruptions. “We’re not invited, so it doesn’t matter if it’s the most beautiful day of her life, or the second-most beautiful or whatever. We’re not a part of it, see? We don’t feature into the thing at. At all.”

Dooley blinked. “But surely—”

“Surely we should consider this a lucky escape. And that’s all there is to it. Now why are you guys sleeping on the couch and not upstairs on the bed where you belong?”

Dooley made a face. “Odelia kicked us off. First she kicked Max in the tush, and then when I took his place she kicked me off as well. Also in the tush. My tush, not Max’s.”

“She did what?” said Harriet, clearly shocked at this egregious example of gross misconduct on the part of one who’d always professed to be an animal person.

“She didn’t mean to kick us off,” I hastened to say. “She was having a bad dream and inadvertently happened to lash out with her feet. Both feet, I should probably add.”

“Hitting us where it hurts,” Dooley added sadly, and rubbed his tush for good measure.

“This is too much,” said Harriet. “First she neglects to invite us to her wedding, and now she’s causing you grievous bodily harm? What’s wrong with the woman?”

“Nothing is wrong,” I said. “She’s just nervous about the wedding, that’s all.”

“Well, she shouldn’t be,” said Harriet. “It’s the most beautiful day of her life. She doesn’t have anything to be nervous about. She should just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

“I think she would like to be uninvited,” said Brutus. “Just like us.”

Dooley smiled at this. “Imagine if Odelia decides to skip her own wedding. Wouldn’t that be something?”

“If Odelia skipped her own wedding there wouldn’t be a wedding, Dooley,” said Harriet.

“What do you mean?”

Harriet gave an exasperated groan. “How can there be a wedding when the bride is missing? Think, Dooley,” she added, tapping my friend on the noggin. “Think hard!”

Dooley gave himself up to thought, and judging from the frown that appeared on his brow, and the steam that gently started pouring from his ears, he was indeed thinking very hard. Finally he gave up. “No,” he said. “I don’t get it.”

“Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet, and Brutus grinned, thinking the whole thing hilarious.

Just then, the sliding glass door that offers such a nice view from the living room straight into the backyard, opened and closed and Gran walked in. Odelia’s grandmother is one of those early risers. In fact she often gets up before we do, which is saying something, as we’re usually up at the crack of dawn. Though in our defense by that time we’ve usually been up half the night. She looked her usual energetic self: blue tracksuit lined with pink, little white curls topping her head like cotton candy and a cheeky grin.

“Heya, fellas,” she said. “Wanna hear the latest?”

“The latest what, Gran?” asked Dooley.

“The latest news, Dooley. Some truck just lost its cargo on the road into town. Ten tons of grade-A potatoes, if you please. Wanna go and have a look-see?”

“What’s there to see about a bunch of potatoes lying in the road?” asked Harriet, who clearly wasn’t in the mood for the introduction of this agricultural theme.

Gran shrugged. “Nothing much, except this.” And she spirited a large canvas bag from behind her back. It was the kind of canvas bag that can easily hold a very large quantity of grade-A potatoes. A slow smile spread across her features when she saw the light of understanding appear in three pairs of cat’s eyes: mine, Harriet’s, and Brutus’s.

“You’re going to steal a bunch of potatoes,” I said, nodding.

Gran’s smile disappeared. “Who’s talking about stealing? I’m just going to help that poor truck driver clean up the road. And if a couple of spuds end up in the trunk of my car, then so be it. My reward for being a good Samaritan, right?”

And so we set out for this kind intervention. Nothing too exciting, mind you, simply four cats helping out their human, and getting away from Odelia’s new

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