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“Okay, why don’t you just do as you’re told,” Gran suggested. “In fact why don’t you all do as you’re told! Now… action!”

And so Harriet produced her pronounced pout again—gentle yet tough, loving yet hostile, caring yet unyielding—and Brutus gave Dooley a kick that sent him toppling off the table, landing on all fours on the ground.

“Hey!” said Gran. “What did you do?!”

“I kicked Dooley,” said Brutus innocently.

“And I liked it,” said Harriet, “and now I’ll reward Brutus by giving him a big smooch.”

“No, no, no, no, no!” Gran cried. “Aren’t you listening?Harriet kicks Dooley, and Brutus projects surprise!”

“I don’t know how to project surprise, Gran,” Brutus admitted. “I mean, I’m an actor, but my range is still fairly limited. Though I’m working on it,” he quickly added. “I’ve been watching videos from Juilliard all day, isn’t that right, love muffin?”

“Me, too,” said Harriet. “Method acting is the way to go, Gran, and we’re getting there.”

“Dooley, back in position!” Gran bellowed. “Harriet, pout and kick! Brutus, look surprised. And whatever you do—do not kick Dooley!”

“Try to curb your kicking reflex, Brutus,” Scarlett added with a touch of concern.

“I’m starting to like this acting gig, Gran,” said Dooley. “I didn’t even get hurt.”

I gave my friend a look of concern.“Are you sure you’re all right, Dooley?”

“Oh, absolutely. He didn’t kick me very hard, Max. In fact I almost didn’t feel a thing.”

“Ready?” said Gran. “Action!”

Harriet was pouting again as if her life depended on it, Brutus was scowling at Dooley, and the latter just stood there looking like… well, like Dooley, I guess.

And then suddenly, out of the blue, suddenly Brutus’s hind leg shot out, hit Dooley in the midsection, and sent the latter flying off that table, and luckily landing on all fours.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Gran screamed.

“I’m sorry, Gran,” said Brutus, looking a little shamefaced. “I guess I don’t know my own strength. Did I kick him too hard?”

“You’re notsupposed to kick him!Harriet is supposed to do the kicking!”

“Oh, right—I forgot,” said Brutus, thunking his brow. “Silly me.”

“God, Brutus, how many times!” Gran said, shaking her fist.

“I’m kicking myself,” said Brutus ruefully. “I really am. Can we do another one?”

“How was my duck face?” asked Harriet. “Too much? Or not enough?”

“Exactly right,” I said, and gave her a thumbs-up, to which she reacted by totally ignoring me—staying in character all the way. I was, after all, the spider she likes to squash, and you can’t squash a spider if you don’t project hostility. It’s basic Juilliard.

“Dooley, back into position. Ready? Go!”

This time Harriet’s pout was even more pronounced, Brutus’s scowl was something to behold, and Dooley? He was doing a great job looking like himself. And then, out of the blue, suddenly Brutus kicked Dooley so hard he was sent flying through the air.

“No, no, no, no, no, no,no!” Gran screamed, jumping up and down in frustration.

“I’m sorry,” said Brutus. “Was that too hard? I used my left leg this time, since my right one is too powerful.”

Gran, who seemed on the verge of apoplexy, threw down her phone—or her camera, if you will—and walked off the scene, stage left, and as she disappeared through the opening in the hedge, suddenly we could hear a scream of frustration so loud, for a moment all nature held its breath, and then the world slowly started turning again.

“Must be tough,” said Dooley, brushing himself off. “Now I think I know why movie directors don’t live very long.”

“I did use my left leg,” Brutus explained.

“Are you all right, Dooley?” I asked.

“I’m fine, Max,” Dooley said, holding up two paws to show that he hadn’t sustained any permanent damage.

“I do like this script,” said Brutus. “Plenty of action.”

“I still don’t think Harriet would pout so much,” said Harriet musingly. “Harriet…” She sighed a delicate little sigh. “… is tender yet ruthless, kind yet merciless, nice yet harsh.”

Scarlett, meanwhile, had gone in search of her director, and since the shoot seemed to have wrapped, I decided to head inside and enjoy that nap. Dooley, who’d now been kicked three times in a row, and had had enough of the cinematic life for a while, joined me, while Brutus and Harriet engaged in a post-shoot roundtable conversation. All part of the creative process, and no doubt something the actors at The Juilliard School, after they’ve kicked each other in the gut a number of times, also routinely engage in.

And so it was that I finally got to enjoy a well-deserved nap.

And I didn’t even get kicked or squashed in the process!

Chapter 16

That night, after Dooley and I had had a good long nap, and were feeling wonderfully refreshed, we passed out of the house through the pet flap and were soon walking along the sidewalk in the direction of the park so we could attend cat choir.

“Where are Harriet and Brutus, Max?” asked Dooley.

“Probably busy filming episode one-hundred-and-twelve of Harriet the Cat,” I said.