“No, it’s our genes,” said Harriet.
“No, I got it,” said Dooley. “It’s because we sleep so much, isn’t it? I saw a documentary that said cats sleep fifteen hours a day on average.”
“Why watch a documentary?” said Brutus with a grin. “Just look at Max. Though he probably sleeps eighteen hours a day.”
“Ha ha,” I said. “Very funny, Brutus.”
“Just kidding, buddy. It’s probably closer to twenty-four hours.”
“And because we sleep so much,” Dooley went on, undeterred, “we are always well-rested, and free of the kind of stress that makes humans so jumpy. Stress is a killer, you guys,” he lectured us, wagging his paw like a college professor. “It’s very bad for you.”
“Yes, professor Dooley,” said Harriet with an eyeroll. “Now let Max finish his story, will you? You have the floor, Max,” she added, giving me an encouraging nod.
“Thanks,” I said. “So like I said, the secret ingredient for a well-groomed, perfectly healthy coat of fur is our saliva. We groom ourselves all the time, which keeps our fur nice and shiny and in perfect health. So Gran duly relayed the message to Tex, who said: ‘How the hell can I lick my own head? It’s impossible!’ But like Gran herself at first, he’d missed the point: the secret is not in the licking itself, but in the secret ingredient contained in feline saliva. Which gave Gran an idea…”
“What idea?” asked Harriet.
“Well…” I hesitated. This was the tricky part of the story. “She made me an offer I couldn’t refuse—so I didn’t.”
“What offer!” Brutus demanded.
“Okay, so she promised to buy me some extra-special kibble she saw on some online pet shop, in exchange for…” I gulped slightly, then said quickly, “for licking Tex’s head.”
My three friends stared at me, and now I saw how all eyes turned to me—even Tex’s eyes, who must have finally gotten hip to the fact that he was the center of discussion.
“Oh, for crying out loud, Max!” the doctor yelled. “You promised not to tell!”
“I’m sorry, Tex!” I said, holding up my paw in a gesture of apology. “But the story is too good not to tell!”
“Take off your cap, Tex,” said Gran now.
“No,” said Tex stubbornly, as he went on grilling his sausages and steaks and whatnot.
“Oh, please take it off, honey,” said Marge.
“You know you want to, Dad,” said Chase with a grin.
“Oh, for Pete’s sakes,” said Tex, and then finally complied and took off his cap.
What appeared was an entirely bald pate—nice and shiny, like a billiard ball!
“Tex, what happened to you!” Charlene cried, bursting out in shocked laughter.
“Looks like my uncle’s methods didn’t work,” Scarlett added.
“It’s all Max’s fault,” Tex grumbled as he gingerly touched his cue ball.
“No, it’s your fault,” said Gran. She turned to her audience. “So Max decided to do as I suggested, and gave Tex’s head a nice, um, well, treatment.”
“You actually went and licked Tex’s head?” asked Harriet, eyes wide.
“Yeah, I did,” I admitted. “And let me tell you, it was a lot of work—the man has a big head.”
“He does have a big head,” said Dooley.
“Only turns out Tex is allergic to cat saliva,” I said. “He had a bad reaction—his skin broke out in a terrible rash.”
“Hives,” said Gran. “Worst allergic reaction I’ve ever seen in my life. Scaly, ugly red—”
“Vesta, please!” Tex cried imploringly.
“I’ve got pictures, in case you want to see,” said Gran gleefully as she took out her phone.
“Ma,” said Marge censoriously.
“Okay, fine—no pictures. But it was bad. Real bad.”
“She’s right,” said Marge. “We had to take my poor baby to a dermatologist.”
“The dermatologist said he’d never anything like it. And so he took pictures—to show to his colleagues and to his students,” said Gran with a grin.
“And so he shaved off all of Tex’s hair, and gave us a cream, which we’ve been applying diligently for the past week now. And it’s really cleared up, hasn’t it, honey?”
Tex nodded morosely, as he idly poked at a couple of charred mushrooms.
“The specialist assures us that his hair will grow back.”
“Let’s hope he’s right,” Tex grumbled, putting his cap back on.
“Well, at least now you know to stay away from experimental methods,” said Alec as he touched his own scalp, where not much hair was left. “You should wear your baldness with pride, buddy,” he added. “I do.”
“You’re not bald yet, sweetie,” said Charlene, as she gave her man’s pate a pat.
“I’m not bald,” said Tex stubbornly. “Just… temporarily… hairless.”
At this, they all laughed, and even Tex joined in, seeing the humor in the situation.
“So what’s the moral of the story?” asked Harriet.
“Never lick another man’s head,” said Dooley.
“I can tell you I won’t do it again even if they promise me the finest kibble in the world,” I said. “Did you know that human hair is much coarser than cat hair? I couldn’t feel my tongue for days. And also—that’s a lot of hair to lick, you guys!”
“You should have asked us to help you, Max,” said Brutus. “We could have tackled the man’s head together. You know, like the four musketeers. All for one, one for the bald one.”
“I don’t think that’s what the musketeers said, Brutus.”
“And I’m sure it is.”
“Okay, so maybe next time. Though Tex has sworn he’s never coming near cat saliva ever again.”
“I’ll bet it wasn’t so much the licking as the urine he poured over his head,” said Harriet. “Delayed reaction.”
“Or it could have been the mayonnaise,” said Brutus.
“Or maybe it was the combination of mayonnaise, pee-pee and Max’s licking,” Dooley said. He gave me a curious look. “When you licked his head, what did it taste like, Max? Did it taste like mayonnaise, or pee-pee, or both?”
“Shampoo, probably,” said Harriet.
I was pulling a face, and now asked, “Odelia, can you ask Tex if at least he washed his hair before subjecting himself to my… special treatment?”
Odelia dutifully translated my question, but Tex shook his head. “I read an article that shampoo should be avoided at all cost. Dries out the scalp. And just think of all those chemicals they put in there. So I stopped washing my hair a week ago.” He patted his head. “All natural, baby!”
Oh, dear. So that’s why Tex’s head had had such a funny taste. Yuck. Double yuck!
“Humans,” said Brutus, once he’d stopped rolling on the floor laughing. “You can’t beat them!”
THE END
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About Nic
Nic has a background in political science and before being struck by the writing bug worked odd jobs around the world (including but not limited to massage therapist in Mexico, gardener in Italy, restaurant manager in India, and Berlitz teacher in Belgium).
When he’s not writing he enjoys curling up with a good (comic) book, watching British crime dramas, French comedies or Nancy Meyers movies, sampling pastry (apple cake!), pasta and chocolate (preferably the dark variety), twisting himself into a pretzel doing morning yoga, going for a run, and spoiling his big red tomcat Tommy.
He lives with his wife (and aforementioned cat) in a small village smack dab in the middle of absolutely nowhere and is probably writing his next ‘Mysteries of Max’ book right now.
www.nicsaint.com
Also by Nic Saint
The Mysteries of Max
Purrfect Murder
Purrfectly Deadly
Purrfect Revenge
Purrfect Heat
Purrfect Crime
Purrfect Rivalry
Purrfect Peril
Purrfect Secret
Purrfect Alibi
Purrfect Obsession
Purrfect Betrayal
Purrfectly Clueless
Purrfectly Royal
Purrfect Cut
Purrfect Trap
Purrfectly Hidden
Purrfect Kill
Purrfect Boy Toy
Purrfectly Dogged
Purrfectly Dead
Purrfect Saint
Purrfect Advice
Purrfect Cover
Purrfect Patsy
Purrfect Son
Purrfect Fool
Purrfect Fitness
Purrfect Setup
Purrfect Sidekick
Purrfect Deceit
Purrfect Ruse
Purrfect Swing
Purrfect Cruise
Purrfect Harmony
Purrfect Sparkle
Purrfect Cure
The Mysteries of Max Box Sets
Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)
Box Set 2 (Books 4-6)
Box Set 3 (Books 7-9)
Box Set 4 (Books 10-12)
Box Set 5 (Books 13-15)
Box Set 6 (Books 16-18)
Box Set 7 (Books 19-21)
Box Set 8 (Books 22-24)
Box Set 9 (Books 25-27)
Box Set 10 (Books 28-30)
Box Set 11 (Books 31-33)
Box Set 12 (Books 34-36)
The Mysteries of Max Shorts
Purrfect Santa (3 shorts in one)
Purrfectly Flealess
Purrfect Wedding
Nora Steel
Murder Retreat
The Kellys
Murder Motel
Death in Suburbia
Emily Stone
Murder at the Art Class
Washington & Jefferson
First Shot
Alice Whitehouse
Spooky Times
Spooky Trills
Spooky End
Spooky Spells
Ghosts of London
Between a Ghost and a Spooky Place
Public Ghost Number One
Ghost Save the Queen
Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)
A Tale of Two Harrys
Ghost of Girlband Past
Ghostlier Things
Charleneland
Deadly Ride
Final Ride
Neighborhood Witch Committee
Witchy Worries
Witchy Wishes
Saffron Diffley
Crime and Retribution
Vice and Verdict
Felonies and Penalties (Saffron Diffley Short 1)
The B-Team
Once Upon a Spy
Tate-à-Tate
Enemy of the Tates
Ghosts vs. Spies
The Ghost Who Came in from the Cold
Witchy Fingers
Witchy Trouble
Witchy Hexations
Witchy Possessions
Witchy Riches
Box Set 1 (Books 1-4)
The Mysteries of Bell & Whitehouse
One Spoonful of Trouble
Two Scoops of Murder
Three Shots of Disaster
Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)
A Twist of Wraith
A Touch of Ghost
A Clash of Spooks
Box Set 2 (Books 4-6)
The Stuffing of Nightmares
A Breath of Dead Air
An Act of Hodd
Box Set 3 (Books 7-9)
A Game of Dons
Standalone Novels
When in Bruges
The Whiskered Spy
ThrillFix
Homejacking
The Eighth Billionaire
The Wrong Woman
Copyright © 2021 by Nic Saint. All rights reserved.
Published by Puss in Print Publications.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval without permission in writing from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Editor: Chereese Graves.