visitors had been Ben and Jerry of ice cream fame and now Pyewacket.
"That does it," she said. "I'll find the cat and get out of your hair."
"Now that's music to my ears," Tina said. "I want to take a long bubble bath, give myself a pedicure. Maybe even a facial if you ever leave."
"Pye!" Gracie clicked her tongue against her teeth. She waited a moment then called out again.
"This isn't that big an apartment," Tina observed, "and Pyebucket –"
"Pyewacket."
"—Whatever isn't exactly the Kate Moss of felines."
"Pye isn't fat," Gracie snapped. "He's big-boned."
"Yeah," said Tina, "and I'm a natural blonde."
Tina trailed her from room to room, treating her to a running commentary on the dangers of Fancy Feast and Nine Lives and the wonders of the real, the natural, the tasteless.
"No wonder all of your cats ran away," Gracie said as she spied Pye's fluffy tail poking out from under the living room sofa. "They were starving."
"You should know better," Tina said reproachfully. "You're the vet. I'm just a lowly clerk."
"Unemployed vet," Gracie reminded her. "As of eight days, eleven hours, and thirty-three minutes ago."
Tina made a face. "Not to worry. It's just a suspension. Three months from now it'll be all forgotten."
"Don't bet your bonus check on it, Tina. I'm in big trouble and it doesn't look like it's going away any time soon."
"They said it was a three-month suspension and that's all it will be." Tina did a good job of sounding sure of herself but neither woman was fooled.
"They said it was a three-month suspension and then they'd review the case. Big difference."
"Since when did you become a cynic," Tina shot back. "How can they fire you for saving an animal's life? That's what you were trained to do. That's like bringing a brain surgeon up on charges because the patient lived."
Gracie got down on her hands and knees and peered under the sofa. "You know the deal, Tina. If the owner wants a sick or old animal euthanized, that's what we do. We can counsel, but we can't take matters into our own hands."
"It's so unfair."
"Tell me about it." When Pyewacket's owners brought him in to be put down, Gracie had tried to convince them that the elderly cat was still healthy and could be expected to live a few more happy, contented years. She had believed she was delivering good news and was shocked when, instead of praising her for delivering the stay of execution on their beloved cat, the Albrights had turned on Gracie as if she had singlehandedly brought down western civilization.
The powers that be at the East Side Animal Hospital—a convenient walk from Bloomingdale's—sided with the Albrights. "They have the right to make this decision," the administrator told Gracie. "You know what's expected of you, Taylor."
The Albrights made their dry-eyed goodbyes to Pyewacket and left Gracie to put him down. She told herself it was part of the job description, that she couldn't force others to live according to her expectations. She whispered to the cat, stroked him behind the ears, then prepared the injection. Pyewacket looked up at her and maybe she was crazy but she thought about her dear old companion Sam the Cat, about how she would have done anything to buy more time with him, and she knew there was no way she could do it. She disposed of the syringe, gathered up the aged cat, then walked out the door with him and straight into a three-month suspension.
The funny thing was, she didn't miss the place. That was the part that didn't make sense. She had a great position at the most prestigious private animal hospital on the East Coast. She earned a fabulous salary, worked bearable hours, and now that she was gone, she realized didn't miss it one single bit. Walking out that door with Pyewacket in her arms, she'd felt the way she used to feel way back in Idle Point when she worked for Doctor Jim.
Back then it had been about the dogs and cats and birds and livestock who were brought to them for treatment. Doctor Jim had taught her to think first of the animal in her care and let everything else fall into place behind that. The poor man would never have made it through the "Growing A Business" module she had taken just before graduation or her introduction to big city methodologies when she joined the East Side Animal Hospital. She wondered what he would think of the woman she