Another Visit With Nick
Since he’s been lamenting the slight diminution of my attention lately (I need to stop spoiling him, obviously), what could be more appropriate than a little visit?
I made my way into his den (I have a lair–he has a den), carefully avoiding the litter of cubs tumbling about the floor. The full-grown beast was sprawled beside them, but was all alertness when I approached.
“Why are you here?” The low growling was barely perceptible, but I am the Cop Whisperer, so I took note of it.
“Just checking your welfare. When will you be back to work?”
“Maybe never. I’m enjoying myself–I have no chores, I have plenty of food. Never is sounding good.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you at all.” Without warning, I grab him by the tail (avoiding the barbs) and start to pull him out of the den.
“Noooo!” He digs his claws into the ground, uttering frightful curses, and finally just starts to wail. I drop the tail hastily–I happen to know the armor plating on his underside is coming loose in one spot, and what if I damage Police Department property? I look down and discover one of the cubs has attached itself to my ankle, trying to bury its needle-like teeth in my leg. I gently dislodge it and place it in the nearby nest box.
Nick has curled into a trembling ball, with his tail over his muzzle. The green eyes regard me balefully. “I think I’m bleeding,” he says accusingly.
“You are not,” I answer, with more confidence than I feel–after all, I don’t know what color his blood might be.
“I hate you.”
“Of course you do,” I say reassuringly. “Seriously, when are you coming back to work?”
He buries his face in his tail, but keeps an ear cocked in my direction. “After you retire.”
“The truth, please.” I take a step toward him.
“OK, OK! Don’t touch me again! I’m waiting until you go on vacation.”
He raises his head and suddenly smiles, showing a great many gleaming teeth. “Yes. And things will be different then.” The claws flex ever so slightly….“Very different.”
To be continued….eventually.