Buttercup Bend Mysteries - Debbie De Louise

Cozy Mystery Book Series With Cats

Buttercup Bend Mysteries by Debbie De Louise

Series Excerpt

Cathy decided not to say anything about Pauline to the sheriff. After all, the lady was Florence’s best friend. She’d been like a second grandmother to Cathy ever since she visited Florence when her parents were alive.

“You look like you’re contemplating something,” Florence said after Cathy went inside and told her Steve wasn’t staying to eat.

“I’m just thinking about what Steve told me the sheriff said. I wonder who will inherit Ms. Broom’s house and what provisions were made for the cats.”

“Maggie’s lawyer will take care of that. Now let’s forget about all this right now and have some food. I know it’s a sad thing, but life goes on, Catherine. Maggie wasn’t the friendliest person. She preferred cats over people, but she was a resident of this town. I’m sure Pastor Green will dedicate a service to her. Pauline will have the details. We’ll need to pay our respects.”

Cathy said, “You don’t think the funeral will be on Friday, do you?”

Florence raised a gray eyebrow. “I’m not sure. Why? Do you have plans that day?”

“Well, I, uh.”

Florence smiled knowingly. “Wait a minute. Friday is the square dance. Do you have a date? That would be lovely. Who’s the lucky guy?”

Cathy lowered her eyes, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks. “It’s Steve. He just asked me this morning before the sheriff showed up.”

“At least some good has come out of this day. Wait until you tell your friend, Nancy. I’m sure she’s going to the dance, too.”

Unlike Cathy, Nancy never missed any of Buttercup Bend’s social activities. Not only because she was a reporter for the Buttercup Bugle but because most of the eligible men in town were smitten with her. She liked to play the field but never stuck with one guy long. Cathy believed that was because Nancy had been in love with someone in high school who broke her heart.

After Cathy and Florence finished eating, Cathy’s brother raced into the backyard on his Adidas sneakers. His baggy jeans rode low on his skinny hips as if he’d just pulled them on. He stopped in front of them and took a few deep breaths. His face was redder than the beets Florence grew in her garden. “Come quick, Gran, Cat. We have an emergency.”

“Douglas!” Florence said. “What’s the matter? Is Becky okay?” Becky was eight months pregnant with their first child.

“Becky’s fine, but she went into Rainbow Rescues this morning and found Hobo curled up in his cage not responding. He’s alive, but he seems sick. I called Dr. Graham. He’s on his way, but I think you should be there when he comes.”

“Of course.” Florence followed Douglas along the path that led to the rescue center. Cathy went along, too. She’d never had any veterinary training, but she’d watched Dr. Graham examine the cats at Rainbow Rescues and had picked up some tips from him by asking questions and observing his exams.

As they entered, Becky wobbled over to them. She wore her Rainbow Rescues apron stretched over her jeans and a short-sleeved tee. Florence contended that the tiny brunette was big enough to be carrying twins, but her doctor assured her that wasn’t the case. It was one big baby, so bets around Buttercup Bend were on a boy.

“Hi, Cathy, Florence. I asked Doug to come get you while we wait for the vet because I’m so worried about Hobo. He’s just lying in his cage. I tried to feed him, but he won’t even take food off my finger. He was fine yesterday. I don’t know what happened.”

Even though most of the pets that were brought to Rainbow Rescues were nameless, the staff gave them temporary names. Hobo was one of their oldest residents in the cat section of the center. Cathy found him five years ago when Rainbow Rescues first opened. He came crying to her grandmother’s door, a starving orange kitten with matted fur and big green eyes. She named him Hobo because he was dirty and seemed to have traveled from a distance. They went through the normal procedures to find his owner, placing his photo in the Buttercup Bugle and on telephone poles around town asking if anyone had lost him and including the phone number of the rescue center. When he wasn’t claimed, they made him an official resident of Rainbow Rescues.

The three other cats who were present when he arrived were all adopted within a few weeks after he came. Cathy tried to convince Florence to take Hobo, but her cat Floppy was receiving twice daily insulin injections for diabetes. Florence felt adding another cat to their household would be too much work. Cathy still regretted not taking Hobo after Floppy passed away, but she’d promised Oliver’s owner on her deathbed that her old cat would have a home with her and Florence. Then several other cats were admitted to Rainbow Rescues, and Cathy believed Hobo was adapting well. He became a favorite among Becky and the volunteers who cleaned the cages and changed the litter pans and food.

Her heart sinking, Cathy gazed into Hobo’s cage. He was rolled into an orange ball. His eyes were closed, but she thought he was awake. Two full dishes of uneaten wet and dry cat food lay next to him.

Florence said, “Poor thing. Did any of the other volunteers report a problem with him yesterday?”

“No,” Becky replied. “He’s usually active and playful at this time. Something is bothering him.”

Douglas stood by his wife. “Sometimes cats go off their feed for a short time. We may have panicked a bit.”

“It’s still a good idea you called Dr. Graham. Cats can hide illness a long time before exhibiting symptoms.”

Cathy knew her grandmother was right. Floppy had seemed fine until he started urinating outside his litter box, and some tests showed he had diabetes. She hoped Hobo was only having an off day.

When Dr. Graham arrived a short time later, Hobo was in the same position in his cage. Becky had wanted to take him out and cuddle him, but Florence had warned her that some cats get testy when they aren’t feeling well and prefer to be left alone.

Dr. Graham smiled as he entered. A tall man in his early thirties, he dressed like a country vet in jeans and a light blue polo shirt that accented his eyes that were just a shade darker. His square-shaped glasses rode low on his nose, and his wavy black hair was combed neatly behind his ears. He carried a black bag that accompanied him everywhere, even to social events. The bag contained his veterinary medical kit and first aid items.

“Good morning, folks. What seems to be the problem?”

Florence answered for the group. She addressed him by his first name which he preferred. “Hello, Michael. Thanks for coming. Hobo isn’t acting himself today. Can you look at him?”

“Of course. I’ll even be happy to give the other cats and Mr. Oliver a once over after I check Hobo.”

“Thank you.” Cathy watched nervously as Becky took a key from her pocket and unlocked Hobo’s cage. Dr. Graham reached in and gingerly removed the cat. Hobo didn’t fight him as Florence had feared but lay listless against his chest.

“Okay, boy. Let’s have a look at you.” Michael carried Hobo to a nearby table that he used when he examined the rescue center cats. He placed him down, reached into his medical bag, and took out his instruments. He looked in the cat’s ears, opened his mouth, checked his teeth and gums, and examined his eyes. Then he felt his stomach and lastly used his stethoscope to listen to his heart. All the while, Hobo kept quiet. Cathy, Becky, Florence, and Doug looked on expectantly until the vet was done. Michael turned to them with his diagnosis. “I don’t see anything wrong, but I should bring him to the animal hospital to run some blood tests and observe him. However, I think the findings will be the same.”

“What do you mean?” Becky asked. “If he isn’t ill, why is he acting this way?”

Michael smiled again, his thin moustache spreading under his nose. “Ever heard of depression? I’m aware this cat’s been here since you opened Rainbow Rescues. I also know the volunteers are great with him, but I think he’s starting to tire of living in a cage and wants a regular home.”

The vet’s diagnosis touched Cathy’s heart. She had a thought. “If you’re right, I have an idea of where he might find a good home.”

Florence sighed. “Oliver might not take too well to a younger cat in his territory.”

“And we can’t take him with our two dogs and a baby coming,” Douglas put in before Becky could make an offer.

“I think you’re wrong about Oliver not accepting a new cat in the house, Gran, but I wasn’t talking about our taking him or you and Becky, Doug. I was thinking of Nancy. It’s been two years since we buried her Popeye in Rainbow Gardens. I tried to persuade her to take Hobo at that time, but the loss was too recent. I was hoping someone visiting the rescue center would adopt him, but I’d be willing to ask Nancy again. I know she misses having a cat. Despite all her relationships, she seems lonely to me.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Michael said replacing his instruments in his medical bag. “I’ll do a quick check on the other cats, have a look at Oliver, and then I’ll bring Hobo to the hospital. He should be back tonight. I’ll have his results in a few days, so you can wait until then to speak to your friend.”

Cathy took Hobo from the vet, and she and Becky put him in a Rainbow Rescues carrier, so he could transport him easier when he was done with his other exams.

All the cats checked out including Oliver who got a clean bill of health for a fifteen-year-old cat.

“Even though he looks great, you know Oliver’s last bloodwork showed he’s in an early stage of chronic kidney disease. Very common among senior cats,” Michael said as Cathy walked him to his car. “We should run another set of blood tests next month. Are you watching his diet?”

“Yes. I’m feeding him that prescription food you recommended, but he doesn’t always eat it.”

“That’s all right. Just keep trying, but it’s better he eats than doesn’t. Lots of fresh drinking water is important, too.”

“We recently got him a fountain, and he seems to like to drink out of it. He finds the swirling water fascinating.”

The vet smiled, and his moustache quivered a bit. “You’re doing a great job, Cathy.” He lifted the cat carrier containing Hobo into the van’s back seat and secured it with a seatbelt.

Florence, Becky, and Doug waved to him as he got in the car. “See you all soon,” he called, “but not for any feline emergencies, I hope.”

As Michael drove away, Florence said, “It’s a strange thing, but seeing Michael’s vet van again, I could’ve sworn it was by Maggie’s house last night when I brought her tea. I know she’s had him there to examine some of her pets, but this was quite late. I wonder if Leroy has spoken to him, too.”

Books In This Series

The Case Of The Cat Crazy Lady (Buttercup Bend Mysteries Book 1)