Bernard Williams rolled over when he heard the telephone ring. 2:37 a.m.! He picked up the phone and growled into it, "There is nothing you can say that would make me leave this house right now." Sitting bolt upright, he listened for a few seconds. His tone softened. "I'll be right there."
He looked at the foot of his bed, knowing that Buster would be curled up there and whispered, "Wake up, bud. We have a job to do." Buster's green eyes flicked open. He yawned widely, showing his small, pink tongue, stood up on all fours and stretched the way only a cat can.
"What is it this time," he rasped in a sleepy voice.
"It's the calico. Mary's found her, but she won't come down from the tree. That's where you and I come in."
Bernard rolled out of his warm bed, grabbed his watch from the bedside table and put it on as he shuffled to the window. He groaned. Snow was still falling, adding to the meter that already hid the front lawn. The outside thermometer read minus twenty-seven. Sighing, he walked to the bathroom where he performed a perfunctory tooth-brushing and returned to the bedroom to slip into his too recently discarded clothes. Wiping the sleep from his grainy eyes, he shrugged on his heavy winter coat, stuffed his feet into his thermal winter boots, slapped the tuque on his head and grabbed his keys. Buster appeared at his feet and jumped into his waiting arms.
"Let's go do this," he mewed.
The frigid wind stung as they stepped outside. Bernard trudged as quickly as possible through the knee- high snowdrifts to the car, threw open the door and tossed Buster inside.
"Quick, clean the windows off and turn on the heat," Buster chattered.
"Hold your horses. Motor's cold. It'll take a few!"
Windows clean, they drove through the quiet streets, shivering, each lost in his own thoughts. A gibbous moon hid behind a ghostly white cloud casting a gloomy shadow on the snow-laden tree branches. The heater finally started to pump out warm air. Man and cat settled in for the ten-minute ride, limbs relaxing in the toasty interior.
"Wonder where she's been all this time. Her human's been looking for her for what, almost three weeks now?"
"Mary didn't say. Just that Prim wouldn't come down from the tree. Here we are."
Mary's house. He put the car in park, grabbed his ever-present flashlight and his Siamese sidekick and hustled toward the shadowy silhouette standing by the tall spruce in front of the house.
"Okay, remember the routine. Ix-nay with the eaking-spay." (*see below)
"How many times do you have to remind me? You'd think I was a dog for heaven's sake. Dogs forget, cats.....why do I even bother?"
As they approached, the bulky figure walked toward them. It was Mary. She looked great even in her thick winter garb. One of these days, Bernard would have to work up the courage to ask her out. But for now, there was work to be done.
"Thanks for coming. It's good to see you again, Bernard. And you too, Buster, you handsome guy," she said, scratching under his chin. Buster purred loudly.
"I heard Prim meowing about an hour ago," Mary explained looking at Bernard. "I know she must be hungry and cold, but she won't come down. I thought of you because I know you and Buster have a talent for coaxing cats down from trees. I'm hoping Buster can come through once more. What do you think, big fella?" She tickled the cat behind his ears.
"I could stay here all night. That's what I think. Forget Prim," he mused silently, basking in the delicious massage.
"Right, then. Let's have a look-see. Come on, Bud. Let's get Primrose down and inside where it's warm."
Buster looked up and saw two shining eyes staring down at him from above.
"Buster, thank goodness you're here! I was hoping you'd show," she chattered.
"Prim, what are you doing?"
"Waiting for you, you sweet fur-ball."
"Well, I'm here, so come down!"
"You'll have to come up and get me," she taunted.
"Fine, I'll be right there." He turned to Bernard, "Females!!"
Springing from Bernard's arms, he leaped at the tree-trunk and shimmied up in no time.
"Okay, Prim. Are you ready to stop playing games and end this ridiculousness?"
"Now, I am, you adorable male," she purred, rubbing against him.
Mary gasped in surprise and anticipation as first Buster and then Primrose began their backward descent.
"Good girl, Primrose. That's the way. Come on! Way to go, Buster," she encouraged. "I can't thank you enough, Bernard, and Buster, you sweet guy, I love you! Thank you," said Mary as the duo reached terra-firma.
She stroked Buster's fur with one hand, holding a contented Prim in her other arm.
"It's almost like they understand each other. Uncanny! How does Buster do it?"
"Wait, I'll ask him," answered Bernard, winking at Mary sardonically. "Hey, Bud, tell Mary why Prim followed you down."
Buster's answering howl was long as it was loud.
"I can almost imagine he understands you and is answering your question! Well, what did he say," she asked, making quotation marks in the air.
"He said that Prim, like all other felines, is a copy-cat. He also said that he's paw-sitive it would have been cat-astrophic if he hadn't saved the day!"
*Ixnay with the eaking-spay = pig latin for nix the speaking (meaning....don't speak)
