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“Of course there is,” I said, yawning and hoping everyone would shut up so I could get some nap time in. Why else had we stayed home if not to enjoy some peace and quiet while we still could?

“Boys are much more rambunctious,” said Brutus. “Girls are quieter. So my vote is for a girl.”

“It’s not an election, sweetie,” said Harriet. “We don’t get to vote.”

“I know, but if we could vote, I’d choose a girl. So fingers crossed.”

“You don’t even have fingers,” I pointed out.

“I think it’s going to be a girl,” said Dooley.

“What makes you say that?” said Brutus.

“One of your silly documentaries again?” said Harriet.

“They’re not silly, and for your information I read about this on the internet. You can see from the shape of the belly whether it’s going to be a boy or a girl, and I’m almost one hundred percent sure Odelia’s belly is a girl belly. It’s more… oval? More round, you know.”

I didn’t know, and frankly I didn’t care. Babies are pretty much all the same in my experience: small and loud and annoying. I just hoped they’d get it over with and bring it home already. And if it did prove to be too much for us, we could always move next door and spend the formative years of thechild’s life with Marge and Tex.

“How long does it take for a baby to become less of a nuisance?” I asked.

“Years,” said Brutus.

“Years?” It wasn’t the answer I’d hoped for. “I thought months.”

“Oh, no. They only develop into actual human beings when they get their first job and strike out on their own, which is probably when they turn twenty-four, maybe twenty-three if you’re lucky. If they can’t land a decent job they can’t move into their own place and then you’re stuck with them pretty much indefinitely. In fact Tigger was telling us the other day that his human’s daughter is still living with them, even though she’s thirty.”

“Thirty!”

“Can you imagine?”

“Thirty years of diapers,” said Dooley knowingly.

“I don’t think kids wear diapers until they’re thirty,” said Harriet. “Probably they grow out of the habit much sooner.”

“Some kids are fine,” said Brutus. “Tigger’s human’s daughter is all right and she has been all right for a long time. Doesn’t scream or shout or make his life miserable. In fact she’s the one who feeds him now and even cleans out his litter box. But they tell me that’s rare. Most kids refuse to do anything around the home. They just sort of mope around.”

We all looked appropriately impressed.“Tigger is lucky,” I said finally.

“It’s a lottery,” said Brutus, repeating a universal truth we’d heard from many sources. “Either you end up with some pocket psychopath who likes to pull tails and poke eyes, or you end up with Tigger’s human’s daughter, who’s a very normal, very nice person.”

“Which is why we need to pray Odelia has a girl, you guys,” said Dooley. “Because we all know that girls are nice and boys are hellraisers who’ll make our lives miserable.”

And as the discussion raged on, I decided to tune them all out and catch up on my nap time. Whether Odelia had a girl or a boy, at least that way I was way ahead of the curve.

Just then, the sliding glass door slid back and Gran walked in. That strange billionaire fianc? she’s been hanging out with lately wasn’t with her this time. The man hadn’t exchanged one intelligible word with any of the rest of the family, and all he seemed to do was follow Gran around everywhere, a sort of perpetual smile on his face. He seemed nice enough, but it would be even nicer if he decided to give us the benefit of his conversation.

“Where is everyone?” asked Gran.

“Work,” I said as I adjusted my position on the couch.

And that’s when I saw it.

A dog. In Gran’s arms.

“What’s that, Gran?” asked Dooley, who’d noticed the same curious phenomenon.

“What do you think it is? A dog, of course. Okay, so I’m just going to leave her here,” she said, and deposited the small bundle of fur on the couch right next to us!

“Gran, what are you doing!” Harriet cried as she jumped up from her position.

“Oh, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” said Gran irritably. “It’s just a dog.”

“But… whose dog is it?” asked Brutus, eyeing the creature suspiciously.

“Chase’s dog, of course. Though he doesn’t know it yet.”

“Chase’s dog!” Brutus cried. “But Chase already has a pet. Me!”

“Well, so now he’s got another one. And besides, Chase always wanted a dog.”

“But Gran!” Harriet practically wailed.

Gran held up her hand.“No need to thank me. You’re welcome.”

And with these words, she strode out again. Then, as if she’d just remembered, she opened the door a crack and said, “Oh, her name is Windex, by the way.” And was gone.

Chapter 5

We all stared at the little dog. Though at the moment it was hard to know whether it actually was a dog. We only had Gran’s word for it. It looked more like… a bat. It had big bat ears, and big bat eyes that stared at us piteously, and a small almost hairless body.

“What are you?” asked Harriet finally.