4c392a139708e5efb30cc267dbb0c768

“Stop!” suddenly a voice echoed through the church. “Stop this abomination right now!”

When we turned we saw that none other than Harriet had joined us, and she didn’t look happy.

Chapter 31

“What do you think you’re doing?” Harriet demanded as she bore down on us.

“Getting baptized?” said Brutus, looking distinctly uneasy.

“Getting baptized my ass. You’re getting married, aren’t you?” She pointed an accusing finger at Shanille. “You’re getting secretly married to that female feline!”

“No!” said Shanille shocked. “You’re wrong, Harriet.”

“Sneaking behind my back for your secret wedding. You should be ashamed of yourselves. You, too, Max. I can’t believe you would agree to be a party to this nonsense.”

“What about me?” asked Dooley.

“Of all the double-crossing, sneaky, devious, underhanded…” Harriet fumed.

“We’re not getting married!” Brutus interrupted her harangue. “I mean, who has even heard of cats getting married? That’s just nuts. And very human!”

Harriet narrowed her eyes at him. She looked absolutely terrifying right now, a regular queen of vengeance.“So what is this? A nice little get-together? Conveniently without inviting me? I don’t think so. I hate you, Brutus. And you, Max.”

“And me?” asked Dooley hopefully.

“And you, Shanille—I can’t believe you would stab a fellow female feline in the back like that. Us females should stick together, not let these treacherous tomcats divide us.”

“Can you shut up for one second?” Brutus suddenly roared, and he gave Harriet a look of such vexation that the latter closed her mouth with a click of the teeth. “I didn’t want to tell you this but you leave me no choice. I’m dying, Harriet.”

“Yes, you are,” Harriet said.

“No, for real.”

“I know. You’re dead to me.”

“I have spots!” Brutus cried out, desperation in his voice.

Whatever Harriet had been expecting, it wasn’t this. She stared at Brutus. “Spots?”

“Spots! Red spots! On my chest!”

For a moment, Harriet was speechless.“Huh.”

“So I asked Shanille for advice and she said inviting Jesus into my life would fix me right up.”

“Jesus,” said Harriet dubiously.

“Yes, Jesus. I’m a desperate cat, Harriet, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

“So why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. Also…” He traced an uncertain pattern on the baptismal font’s ledge with his paw. “I, um, I guess I felt embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed!”

“I know you like your tomcats butch and strong, and these spots have made me feel weak and… well, all too aware of my own mortality. I didn’t want to let you down.”

“Oh, Brutus,” she said, and to my elation there was a marked softening in her demeanor. In the past her ‘Oh, Brutus’ had alternately sounded exasperated or incensed but now her words were tinged with a nice sense of compassion.

Brutus jumped down from the font and approached her.“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have told you. I didn’t think I could stand to see the disappointment on your face.”

“Disappointment! Brutus, I’m not disappointed. In fact I’m proud of you. That you would decide to face this terrible disease on your own—proud in the face of certain death.”

There was a moment of reconciliation that was accompanied by the kind of scene that would almost certainly earn this chronicle a PG-13 rating so I won’t recount it here. Suffice it to say that all seemed to be well in the enduring love affair of Harriet and Brutus.

“So are we still doing this?” asked Shanille, sounding a little peeved. A staunch believer in the life celibate, she hadn’t enjoyed being accused of being married to Brutus.

“Yes, we’re doing this,” said Harriet with a happy smile. “In fact, now that I come to think of it, I want to join you guys. I want to invite Jesus into my life, too. Max, Brutus, I want to be baptized, too, if that’s all right with you.”

“What about me?!” Dooley cried.

Harriet gave him a grin.“Just teasing.” She gestured between them. “I see you.”

“Avatar!”Dooley jubilated.“I love that movie!”

“What’s he talking about?” grumbled Brutus. For a cat on the verge of death he was no stranger to petty jealousy.

“Never mind,” said Harriet, jumping up onto the baptismal font. “So how does this work?”

“Shanille will say a few words, then splash some water on our heads,” I explained.

“Great. So let’s get on with it. This cold stone is murder on my butt.”

It wasn’t exactly the kind of statement to preface what Shanille had said was the most important moment of our lives. I wasn’t convinced she was right. The most important moment in my life had probably been when Odelia lifted me from amongst my mother’s litter. The second most important moment when Dooley came into my life. But I wasn’t about to be nitpicky. After all, this wasn’t about me but about the salvation of Brutus.

Brutus joined us and now five cats circled the dark well of holy water.

“Let’s begin,” said Shanille. “Brutus, do you reject sin and the glamour of anvil?”

“Anvil?” I asked.

“That’s what Father Reilly says on these occasions.”

“Pretty sure he means ‘evil.’”

“Are you a church cat or am I?”

“You are.”