Gaits of Heaven

gift. And you got it.“
    “Kevin, besides being a talented beer drinker, Rowdy does happen to have a spectacular voice, so why don’t you work on developing that talent and quit giving him alcohol! It is not good for him. Or for Kimi, either.”
    Disloyally, Steve said, “A sip or two of beer now and then isn’t going to hurt them.”
    “I don’t see you feeding them beer,” I said. In fact, neither India nor Lady had any interest in it.
    “They don’t ask me,” Steve said. “They ask Kevin. Kevin, take a seat. You want some ice cream?”
    He turned down the offer in favor of popping the top off a beer, sipping, and then accidentally-on-purpose holding the can at the level of Rowdy’s mouth. Even I have to admit that Kevin’s claim about Rowdy’s talent was justified. Strictly behind my back, Kevin had also taught Kimi to sip beer, but she performed the trick without Rowdy’s air of mastery. Also, she seemed to me to dislike the taste, whereas Rowdy obviously loved it.
    “Enough!” I said. “Steve said a sip or two now and then. He’s had a sip or two. Enough!”
    After giving Kimi her turn, Kevin rested the can on the table. “They do a good job of sharing,” he remarked. “You ever thought about writing to Budweiser about them? They could be on TV instead of those Clydesdales.”
    “The Clydesdales haul beer around,” I said. “They don’t drink it.”
    “That’s what I mean. What kind of ad is that? If you want to sell beer, you should show people drinking it. Or dogs. The head honchos at Budweiser could work out some kind of deal with Purina or Eukanuba or whatever. Brew Team Dog Chow. Just add water, and it makes its own beer.”
    “Or the other way around,” I said. “All Natural Lamb and Rice Premium Performance Budweiser for Large Breed Adults.” I paused. “With small brains. But speaking of food, do you want a sandwich or something?”
    “No, thanks. I can’t stay. I just wanted to tell you about those squirrels.” Kevin’s expression was uncharacteristically grim.
    “They were at the feeders today,” I said. “Steve, I meant to tell you. I printed some pages from the Web. You need to add baffles. Two squirrel baffles on each pole. And PVC pipe for the poles to go in.”
    “There’s a quicker way,” said Kevin. “That’s what someone did over there. Over at the Greens’.”
    Steve and I waited in silence.
    “I took a look at the feeders,” Kevin continued. “Like you said, no squirrels. And no squirrel damage. And in Cambridge, that’s not normal. My mother’s got that feeder you gave her, Holly, and half of what’s there are squirrels. They eat the birdseed, and the perches are all chewed up. And over there at the Greens’, there are a dozen of these feeders, all kinds, fancy ones, with no squirrel baffles. No nothing. So I start looking around and...” He shrugged. “And I call this bird feeder company, On the Wing, and ask if they’re doing something, putting something in the birdseed, and they say no, they’re not. They used to add some kind of hot pepper, but it turned out to be bad for birds, and they quit. There’s some kind of feeder that gives electric shocks, but the clients didn’t want one. So, then I get a bright idea. I send a guy up a tree. And there it is. Rat poison. A lot of it. In that tree and two others. Not all that high up, either. And that’s your answer. No squirrels.”
    I reached for Steve’s hand and squeezed it. “Kevin, that’s monstrous. It makes me sick. No one wants squirrels at feeders, but—”
    “It’s sick,” Steve said. “And dangerous.”
    “There are dogs there!” I said. “Dolfo. And next door, Portia. George and Barbara’s dog. There are probably other dogs in the neighborhood. And cats. If one of them had eaten a poisoned squirrel...”
    “And if kids found a dead squirrel,” Kevin added. “When I was a kid, we used to have these funerals for dead animals if we found them. Bury them, flowers on the little grave.” He crossed himself. “Kids do that. Handle the dead squirrel, put your hands in your mouth. And kids climb trees.”
    “Have there been any reports?” I asked. “Reports of anything...?”
    “No. And we asked around. It’s luck is all it is.”
    “Kevin, who did this?”
    “I don’t know. But I’ll tell you something. Homicide, that’s a lot of people’s business. But this—this one’s Cambridge. Hey, a few years back, I could’ve been the kid that climbed one of