Puss 'N Cahoots

top, each row reverberating as they thumped down.
    “Life’s funny, isn’t it?” Harry beamed.
    “If it’s not, we are.” Renata laughed, feeling so light and carefree, despite it all.

I ’ll call Horsin’ Around.” Fair named an equine-shipping company that he recommended to “patients” and their owners. “They can pick up Shortro and Indian Summer.” He was amazed that Renata had given Harry the wonderful gelding.
    Indian Summer was the Thoroughbred at Paula Cline’s Rose Haven. Alicia had agreed to make a donation to the Thoroughbred Retirement Fund after discussing the horse with Harry. Her donation would exceed Paula’s request.
    Booty, stripped to a T-shirt and jeans and sweating, overheard the conversation as they were outside his barn. He stepped into the sunlight, Miss Nasty on his shoulder. He filled that T-shirt right well.
    Wearing a lime-green short skirt, a matching halter top, and her floppy straw hat to ward off the sun’s rays, Miss Nasty peered down at Pewter and curled back her lips. She then turned around on Booty’s shoulder to flip up the back of her skirt.
    “If my rear end were that ugly I wouldn’t show it to anyone,”
Pewter sassed.
    “You’re so ugly you should put a paper sack over your head. Don’t cats like paper sacks?”
Miss Nasty whirled around.
    “Nasty, keep still.” Booty patted her head.
    “That revolting gray cat insulted me.”
    “Monkey hamburger. Yum.”
Pewter’s deep-pink tongue licked her gray lips, her whiskers forward.

    “My bite is bad. Don’t delude yourself. You can’t hurt me.”
    “She can try.”
Mrs. Murphy sounded conciliatory.
“Miss Nasty, have you thought about the pin? I’ll make it worth your while.”
She gave Pewter a dirty look to stop the insult about to pop out of the cat’s mouth.
“That pin has sentimental value. It belonged to Joan’s grandmother.”
    “So?”
The monkey held up her palms.
    “Bananas—we could get you a cart full of them.”
Tucker had no idea how to buy bananas, but it sounded good.
    “What do you take me for? A monkey?”
Miss Nasty laughed.
“Anyway, I can eat bananas whenever I want.”
    “What if we found you another pin even prettier?”
The tiger figured the longer she kept Miss Nasty talking, the closer she would get to discovering what the monkey would take in trade.
    “How pretty?”
    “Lots of diamonds to show off your color.”
Mrs. Murphy smiled.
    “Yes, that beautiful shade of poop brown,”
Pewter venomously said.
    Miss Nasty flew off Booty’s shoulder, running into the barn.
    “Dammit, Pewter, you’ve upset her. She’s run away.”
Tucker wanted to find the pin as much as Mrs. Murphy did.
    “If she’s that sensitive, she should stay in her cage. Besides, she started it.”
    “Pewter, you started it,”
Tucker corrected her.
    “When we first met her on the rail, first night of the show, she started it.”
Pewter was adamant.
    Miss Nasty returned, running then hopping on her hind legs. In each paw she carefully held a large dollop of horse manure. Taking aim, she pelted Pewter, the droppings crumbling on contact.
    “Who’s the color of poop?”
She hopped up and down, clapping her hands as Pewter puffed up in total rage.
    “What’s gotten into these guys?” Harry grabbed Pewter, brushing off the manure, which was dry, thank goodness.
    Miss Nasty returned to the barn for more ammunition. Out she came. This time she nailed Harry.
    “Nasty!” Booty took a stride toward the monkey, who hastened out of reach by retreating back into the barn.
    Fair brushed off his wife and Pewter, because one of the droppings had hit Pewter again.
    “Kill! I will kill!”
Pewter howled.
    Miss Nasty climbed up the tall post closest to the opening, vaulted upward to catch the slight lip of the door jamb, and swung herself up on the protruding light. The sun had heated the metal; it was hotter than the last time she was up there. She burned her paws a touch and dropped straight down to the ground. Pewter launched herself out of Harry’s arms, narrowly missing smashing onto the monkey by inches.
    Miss Nasty, her paws smarting, tore back into the barn, Pewter hard on her heels. Fortunately, the humans hadn’t a clue.
    “Maybe we should separate them.” Booty turned toward the aisle.
    Fair replied, “We can follow, but I bet you Miss Nasty can stay out of Pewter’s reach.”
    Mrs. Murphy and Tucker had the good sense not to participate in the chase. The monkey perched on a