Everyone knew that some people, like Clodagh and Scan, could talk to most of the animals. Others, like Lavelle, could certainly understand their own lead dogs. Bunny had always talked to the animals, all of them, having been brought up to think it was only polite to do so. But today was the first time the animals had ever struck up what could be called a conversation with her. Maybe it was because she had bonded with her snocle instead of to dogs or cats or curlies, or maybe Dinah was just an unusually telepathic dog. Anyway, although Dinah was evidently tuned in to Diego, the dog had talked to Bunny first, and underlying all the worry and trouble, Bunny felt a marvelous elation about that.
The big cat, Nanook, had bounded past her as she held the door open for Liam and Diego to carry Francisco Metaxos into Clodagh’s house. Bunny had caught a flutter of thought, Wonder what’s happening out there now …, as the cat passed by.
Darkness blanked the windows and the wind blew fiercely, carrying the scent of ash and fresh water, thawing earth and smoke. It howled around the house like a team of hungry dogs and rattled the roof. Inside, the stove kept the house almost stiflingly warm as it kept Clodagh’s caribou stew simmering in her biggest pot.
Diego was wolfing down his second bowlful and Bunny making short work of hers while Clodagh stirred fresh ingredients into the pot.
“Want to have enough for when people come in off the river,” she said. “Some of them are bound to stop by.”
The cozy domesticity of the scene was reinforced by Clodagh’s cats, who had returned from whatever business they had been about when Bunny had first arrived.
Diego had one on his lap, while another, Bearcat, napped on Bunny’s knees. And, of course, one of the more enterprising members of the pride twined around Clodagh’s ankles as she cooked. Marduk and the remaining five seemed fascinated by Francisco Metaxos.
Marduk sat on the scientist’s lap, kneading and purring and gazing raptly through narrowed eyes up into his face. Another cat sat on the scientist’s shoulders, its rust-striped cheek and white whiskers snuggled against the man’s right ear, front paws pedaling his shoulders while the ringed tail curled possessively around Metaxos’s neck from the other side. Two more cats flanked Metaxos on either arm of the chair, licking his fingers and hands and grooming him, while another pair alternately wove about his feet and settled across them like house slippers.
You’d have thought the man was made of catnip the way the silly animals were carrying on, Bunny reflected. Whether it was coincidence or communication, at the moment the thought formed she drew an indignant dig from the cat in her lap.
“Can I have a bowl of stew for Dad, please, Clodagh?” Diego asked. “But maybe it’d be better-” He broke off and looked at Clodagh’s back imploringly.
She turned and gave him an impassive half smile. “Yes?”
“If you’d feed him? Bunny says you’re good at taking care of people and things and, to tell the truth, he never eats very well for me.”
Bunny, who had watched Diego feed his father a couple of times, suspected that half the problem was that Diego found spoon-feeding his once-brilliant and vigorous father a disgusting process. She knew it made him sad and angry: that would be the way she would feel, she knew. Unnerving, too, to have to shove food into the mouth of a grown man as if he were an infant.
Clodagh regarded Diego with understanding and sympathy. She looked at the bowl she had filled and then handed it to him with a kind smile.
“No, it’s better if you do it, son. Someplace inside your da he still knows you and loves you. If he’ll eat for anybody, it’ll be you.”
“I guess so,” Diego said dispiritedly, and pulled a chair opposite his father. Bunny noticed he was careful not to disturb any cats, though Marduk raised a paw as if to snag the spoon carrying food to Metaxos’s mouth.
Grimacing, she looked away as the spoon neared the man’s lips: that was the disgusting part, when stuff fell ‘off the spoon and down the chin and had to be wiped off before it messed up the shirt. At least Diego didn’t have to actually pry open his father’s lips to get the food in. But, as she was turning her head, Diego suddenly said, “Hey, Dad. All right! That was great. Try another bite.”