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“So we could call her Harriet 2. And then when they have another baby we’ll call her Harriet 3. And so on. Or we could even call them H2 and H3. That way it’s easier for Odelia.” He suddenly tooted in my ear, “Dinner is ready, H2 and H3! See? Convenient.”

“I wonder where Windex could have gone off to,” I said, looking behind a hedge.

“Maybe she went looking for her human?”

“If that were true, she would be there right now, and Mrs. Dobson’s daughter wouldn’t have launched that appeal.”

“Or maybe she returned to the shelter, hoping to find her human there?”

“Possible,” I admitted. “But unlikely. I mean, she seemed happy enough to be with us last night. Even excited about cat choir and everything.”

“Yeah, the life and soul of the party.”

“Harriet and Brutus shouldn’t have left her all by herself.”

“We shouldn’t have left her all by herself,” Dooley said.

Too true, of course. And we’d just doubled back, thinking maybe to take a look behind the house instead, when I thought I heard Windex’s voice. I pricked up my ears, and sure enough it was her. The sound seemed to be coming from the Trappers, Tex and Marge’s next-door neighbors. And after we’d wended our way in that direction, we came upon a comforting sight: there she was, Windex, freely shooting the breeze with the Trappers’ sheepdog Rufus and Odelia’s neighbor’s Yorkie Fifi. The three dogs were lying on the lawn in Ted and Marcie’s backyard, and obviously having a good time.

“Oh, hey, you guys,” said Windex. “You never told me you’ve got such great neighbors.”

“And you never told us,” said Rufus, “that Odelia adopted such a great new friend?”

“Yeah, about that,” I said, deciding to break the news to the tiny doggie before she heard it from someone else, “your human has been looking for you, Windex. In fact her daughter launched an appeal for you to be found and reunited with Mrs. Dobson.”

“But… I thought she couldn’t keep me?” said Windex, visibly surprised by this news.

“There seems to have been some kind of misunderstanding,” I said. “I don’t know how it happened, but when Mrs. Dobson was taken to the nursing home, you got left behind in the confusion of the move. And when her daughter returned for you, you were gone.”

“So… she wants me to live with her? At the nursing home?” asked the doggie, perking up at the prospect.

“Yeah, absolutely,” I said. “In fact they’ve been looking all over. Though why they didn’t simply contact the shelter I don’t know. Then again, maybe they thought you’d run away.”

“You are loved, Windex,” said Dooley emphatically.

Windex gave him a strange look.“Oh-kay. And so are you, Dooley.”

“Thanks,” said Dooley, lying down next to the others, satisfied that his work was done.

“So you’re leaving again?” asked Rufus. “So soon?”

“But we only just met,” said Fifi.

“It’s all right, you guys,” said Windex. “It’s a nursing home, not a prison. I’ll be able to sneak out at night, I’m sure. And then I can join you for this dog choir you mentioned.”

“We’d love to have you,” said Rufus. “We’re short on sopranos at the moment.”

And so it was arranged. Windex would join dog choir, which sounded like a better proposition for her than cat choir, and before long we returned home, where we bumped into Marge, who had already been in touch with Eileen Dobson’s daughter, who was dropping by later to pick up Windex. And true to her word, she did, and we all got to say goodbye to Windex while the younger Mrs. Dobson chatted with Marge and Tex.

Turns out that a neighbor had found Windex on the windowsill outside Mrs. Dobson’s house the day of the big move, and had misunderstood something Eileen had mentioned to her earlier, about the home not being amenable to pets. What Eileen had forgotten to mention was that they did make exceptions for small pets like Windex. And so the neighbor, who must have been a little confused, had decided to take Windex to the shelter herself, figuring Eileen had forgotten about her faithful canine companion.

“I had a great time,” said Windex, wiping away a tear. “You took me in when I was at a low ebb and gave me a home just when I needed one and I can’t thank you enough.”

“We could have been nicer,” I told her.

“Yeah, we kinda felt threatened by you,” Harriet admitted.

“Threatened! But why?”

“We thought you were going to replace us,” Dooley said, offering an apologetic smile.

“I would never want to replace you guys,” said Windex earnestly.

“I thought Odelia took you because dogs are better for babies than cats,” said Brutus.

“Oh, you guys!” said Windex, laughing. “That’s crazy!”

“I know,” I said ruefully. “And we see that now, Windex.”

“It’s fine, Max,” said the doggie, placing a tiny paw on my shoulder. “You took me in, you introduced me to a bunch of new friends, and generally I feel like I owe you one.”

“You really don’t,” Harriet assured her. “If anything, we owe you. For your friendship. And for showing us the error of our ways. We were too quick to judge. I was too quick to judge.”

“All of us were too quick to judge,” I grunted.