Oliver

Harry Comes, There He Goes

Leaving the Aloof One muttering in disgust on the top rail of the deck, Harry cheerful pranced through the door with his humans. He really didn't pay too much attention to Oliver's moodiness. Who could understand cats, anyway? He did like Oliver, he had just given up trying to understand what made him tick. With his usual doggie optimism, he figured Oliver would unbend soon enough on his own. Besides. There were treats.

Treats always came after Harry did such a fine job on the Walk missions. There were so many parts to the missions. He was sometimes nervous, thinking he'd surely forget one of the parts one day. Most creatures just weren't aware of how serious the whole business was. First, you had to tell your humans when they wanted to walk. As they seemed to be quite forgetful, you needed to guide them to where their leash hung (it was very important to use a leash so as to not lose your humans!). Once outside, it was always up to you to point out interesting things your humans might like (or be wary of), such as birds, bicycles, rabbits, passing cars, and especially other dogs. Once you walked as far as you thought your humans should venture, it was most definitely up to you to guide them back home again. Harry took his Walk missions very seriously. He even dreamed of wild missions that he truly hoped he would never have to deal with in real life. But today had been a wonderful success. Well, to be honest, most of his Walk missions went off without a single hitch. Harry was just that kind of dog. Thus, treats.

Licking his lips and delighting in the deliciousness of his (obviously) well-deserved treats, Harry ambled off up the stairs to his cozy bed for a little nap. Missions were so very exhausting, after all. Everybody knew that.

When Oliver found him snoring and twitching in the den some time later, he knew an intense desire to give old Harry's nose a bat bat. He could probably blame it on someone else if he got caught... He stared, mesmerized by the offending nose, until his better judgment caught up with him. Giving his head a little shake, he sat down and washed his ears to give him time to decide on a course of action.

His thoughts were a whirl, blown about like Cracker caught in the wind. He knew Pete needed rescuing, that was obvious. But how? He knew if he could get him into their house, there were plenty of places they could hide Pete. Oliver had numerous hideaways (as any good feline should) which were handy in times of distress. Such as when the great Vacuum roared. Oliver was honestly quite brave, but occasionally his imagination got the better of him, and he could swear that thing was alive. He was, after all, only feline. These embarrassing moments usually only occurred when he was rudely disturbed from slumber. The rest of the time, he held his ground, gritting his teeth until the monster stopped its growling and screeching.

But that was all extremely unimportant if they couldn't sneak him inside in the first place. Oliver knew his humans would never just open the door for Pete like they did for Harry and himself. What could be done? They could try a disguise- no, that would never work. They couldn't even hide him in Harry's long fur, and quickly rush in. Once in the door, the humans would see him and back out he would go. Any idea ended the same way. Pete being tossed back outside. Well, perhaps not tossed, but removed from the premises, for sure. The truth of the matter was that there was just no way to get Pete in through that door. It was too bad that they couldn't skip that part, and just get him in upstairs, where hideouts were more plentiful.

In his frustration, his tail had begun snapping about again. After eyeing it irritatedly, he captured it with a quick swipe of a paw and gave it a good licking. That would teach it to flap around like a dying fish.

An accidental chomp to his now well-groomed tail made him utter an undignified squeak of surprise and quickly turned his thoughts from agitation to embarrassment. He looked up, realizing Harry was now awake and had witnessed the whole unprofessional episode. He wished he could escape Harry's laughing eyes and fly right out that window, like Cracker would if he were here. That would be something. A cat flying though the den window.

That's when it hit him.

They'd get Pete in through that upstairs window. They'd fly him in.