The Adventures of Button (16 page)

Sally looked long at her friend. She knew Buttons, and she knew Buttons would not give up until she had evened the score. But, for some reason, it didn’t seem right. Sally was as young as Buttons was, and being a beagle, liked to hunt. But this did not set right. She didn’t say so though because she had received her share of scratches also.

They spent the remainder of the morning chasing Iggy from tree to tree, a game he enjoyed immensely, causing a great deal of racket, disturbing the larger squirrels, and, of course, setting the many birds into flight time and again. Finally, they tired and rested within the shade of one of the larger elms, before finally calling the day quits and returning to their respective homes, all agreeing beforehand to meet the next day.

For the next several days, Buttons was clearly preoccupied and did not participate in their games with the same unrestrained enthusiasm. As the days passed by, Buttons played less and less until she simply was not to be found at all.

Buttons was indeed almost invisible. She lay beneath small bushes, or deep within the tall reeds which surrounded a small garden pond, only the tips of black ears being visible. Always vigilant, her small brown eyes missed nothing that moved. She simply waited, hour after hour after hour. Sooner or later her, adversary would appear, and, then, only then, would the terrier act.

The target of her watchfulness would appear occasionally at sunset or sunrise. Rarely during the day. At night, Buttons would be inside her boy’s home, thus preventing watching round-the-clock. It simply aggravated the situation because Buttons would go to bed resentfully, sleep restlessly next to her boy, and rise angrily, rushing to the door to be let out as soon as possible.

But she came. Mommy Kitty would make her appearance sooner or later. Then, Buttons attacked, barking furiously as she raced to overtake the cat. Each time, the cat rapidly disappeared over the fence. But sooner or later, she would reappear and once again be attacked by the small terrier.

The cat appeared reluctant to stand and fight. She would stand briefly, glaring at Buttons, but would then launch herself over the fence.

After that event, the cat was to be seen crossing the Great Field at different times of the day. She was usually in the company of a tomcat, much to the glee of many creatures. As one large squirrel put it, “Humpphh! More often pregnant than not.” Then the squirrel would turn and begin to berate her many offsprings and the male who sat at her side.

Day after day, the same scene would be played out. Buttons angrily attacking and Mommy Kitty backing away, her sides heaving with her inner anger and increasing frustration.

Buttons would grin wickedly after each encounter. Mommy Kitty was wearing down. It could be seen in her thin sides, the drooping belly, and the fear growing in the cat’s eyes. She’d be sorry for attacking Buttons and Sally that long-ago day. Yes, Buttons’s persistence was paying off.

She told her best friends, Sally and Iggy, nothing. Knowing the cat’s habits, the small terrier could go back to her play during the day, becoming increasingly vigilant as night approached.

Iggy finally broached the issue because his curiosity was as long as his patience was short.

Sally silently agreed with him when he said, “Hey, Buttons, what’s going on? You’ve been up to something, haven’t you? I can tell.”

Sally joined in to urge Buttons to tell them. Buttons heaved a deep breath, looked closely at her two best friends, and then broke down and told them.

“Look,” she said, “that cat that we jumped the other day? Well, I think I know where she lives. And,” here she looked meaningfully at them, “it’s not in one of the homes.”

“Oh, nuts,” said Iggy in disgust. “All she is, is some old stray that will wreak havoc around here for a while and then leave as they always do. What’s so great about that?”

Buttons shook her head vehemently. “No, you don’t have the picture. She’s got a hole under the old part of the fence with our neighbor. You know, the old couple that we rarely see outside.”

Sally was watching Buttons with great interest. Clearly, she had a plan of action in mind, and it undoubtedly meant trouble for someone. Probably all of them. “Just what do you have in mind, Buttons?”

Buttons puffed up her small, narrow chest. “I’m going to wait until I see her leave, and then I’m going to dig her hole into nothing. She’ll have to leave, whether she likes it or not. So, there. What do you think of that?”

There was a wicked look of determination in her eyes, and neither Iggy nor Sally said anything. They simply followed behind as Buttons turned and headed for the area in question. Sally was concerned, nonetheless. This was not typical of Buttons, who never held a grudge. She was one to forgive and forget. She had never harmed anyone. But this was different. Her anger had taken on a life of its own. Sally didn’t like it, but as a good friend will in such situations, she vowed to stay with Buttons. Maybe Sally could help. How, she didn’t know; but she would try, come what may.

The three entered the garden quietly, and then lay hidden in the shade of a very large bush, which hid them from anyone in the garden. Twice a bird landed just in front of them to seek worms without being aware of the three. Finally, Iggy nudged Sally, and indicated with a twitch of his nose the direction of some movement in the thick of flowering plants. Thick ivy covered the ground between plants. The three of them watched with great anticipation as the cat emerged from the thickest area of ivy, which partially climbed the rotting fence. Looking around and seeing nothing, a lithe and sinuous leap took the cat to the top of the fence and then over.

The yard of the old couple next door sloped from front to back such that the old fence sat at least two feet above Buttons’s yard. Thus, the small, black terrier could hide to her heart’s content. She actually had a large hole in the side hill where the ground rose most steeply.

Buttons stopped in midstride as she rose. Sally was rising also, and bumped into her friend. “Heh, what gives?”

Buttons dropped her head in shame as she recalled the appearance of garden earlier in the spring. She turned and looked at Sally. “What a ninny I’ve been. I dug a good-sized hole in the side of that bank and then promptly forgot it. It’s covered by the ivy hanging down the fence. What a ninny I’ve been.”

Sally just grinned, making Buttons even more frustrated.

With the cat’s disappearance, Buttons burst from the bush, rushing toward the spot just vacated by the cat. It took only moments for the keen noses of Sally and Buttons to locate the entrance to the cat’s den. It was carefully hidden by the ivy, as the two anticipated, and lay at the foot of the old post. A partially rotten slat covered the top.

Buttons nosed about for a moment, a questioning look coming into her face. Then, she turned to the task at hand, forgetting the disquieting thought that had crossed her mind. She went fiercely to work, her broad forepaws gouging the soft dirt up and flinging it between her legs causing Iggy, who had arrived even as the two dogs raced across the yard, and Sally to move to the side to avoid being hit by the flying dirt and twigs. Buttons worked with the furious single-mindedness of her breed, never stopping for a moment before she had enlarged the opening sufficiently to allow her entrance to the pocket that lay beneath the fence.

Grass, twigs, and bits of ivy covered the floor of the makeshift den. Overhead, it was protected by an old slab of concrete that had, at one time, been meant to support the fence post. Now, only roots of bushes gave the wall some strength. It was well-situated to protect the occupants from the infrequent, but heavy, rains that came at that time of the year. Both Iggy and Sally pushed into the den, and as had Buttons, stopped in amazement. Their voices were hushed as they looked at one another.

“Wow, we sure did it this time,” muttered Iggy.

“Yeh,” agreed Sally. “But, how are we going to set this mess right?”

Buttons retreated and sat in front of the enlarged den’s opening. Her nose was caked with dirt and bits of grass and dirt clung to her bushy eyebrows. She slumped to the ground as she listened to her two friends’ wondering voices.

“Hey,” said Iggy, “they’re kind of cute. Look, Sally, their eyes are just beginning to open. How many do you count?”

Sally was in fact busy sorting out the litter of kittens, for that was what they had uncovered. Four small bundles of fur huddled together in one corner. To the far left, the shriveled bodies of two more were moldering, death having taken them several days before. One of the kittens tried to gain its feet, but could not, and the four just lay there looking with fear and wonder at the creatures which occupied the entrance to their safe home. Safe, until now.

Sally chuckled and moved toward the small kittens to examine them closer when she was suddenly thrust aside. The cat had returned unexpectedly, and now leaned backwards on her haunches in a defensive posture, a round ball of angry, erect hair. She was furious and small hissing spats were emitted regularly as she faced the beagle and squirrel before her. Neither of them moved, instinctively knowing the cat would fight to the death for her offspring, even if no harm was intended. Which it wasn’t. But neither Sally nor Iggy had the slightest idea of how to break the impasse. Frankly, they were afraid to move backwards for that might precipitate the attack as quickly as a movement forward. They would not fight the cat under these circumstances, but could not run.

A muffled voice came from behind them, “Please, let me in. It’s all my fault. Let me in. Please.” Buttons’s pleading voice finally broke the frozen figures of the creatures facing one another in the den.

Sally looked at the cat who did not move. Sally and Iggy then slowly dipped their heads, and even more slowly edged backwards. To their relief, the feline maintained her defensive stand and watched them go. Buttons replaced them and lay down, resting her nose on the ground just in front of the cat. Neither said anything for several moments.

In the most contrite voice she could manage, Buttons addressed the cat, “Please, ma’am, it’s all my fault. I did it. I didn’t know you had babies in here.”

The small feline female relaxed ever so slightly. Her glittering eyes bespoke her anger and concern. Fear lay there also for the many possibilities this intrusion could mean had already crossed her mind. Clearly, some of them were beginning to dawn on the small Scottish Terrier before her. She turned and gazed with longing at the two still figures in the corner.

Turning to Buttons, she hissed, “If you hadn’t prevented my hunting they might still be here. But, I can’t get enough food. I’ve known of your watching and seeking. And, now, you see what you have done.”

She curled herself around the four squirming figures of the newborn kittens and began to lick each of them in turn. “They’re all I have now.” Her accusing gaze never left the eyes of Buttons. “What am I to do now? I can’t defend that huge opening you’ve just made and find food so that I can nurse them.”

Buttons started to apologize, but the cat furiously hissed, “No, it’s too late. You’ve done too much harm. This is not the first litter I’ve lost.”

Mommy Kitty coughed, a retching, hacking cough that came from deep in her chest. “It’s too late. Don’t you understand?”

Her eyes glittered with suppressed grief and anger. “This will be the last. No more.”

She coughed once again, sinking down to nose each of the four remaining. Only the largest stood a chance of survival. The bright light brought no relief, only more grief. Her strength had been sapped by Buttons’s unrelenting harassment. But clearly, the three young creatures before her could not know. Only in time. Maybe not then.

Iggy and Sally pushed in beside Buttons, who lay quietly contemplating the scene before here. Iggy was as precocious as usual and just as unconcerned about the effect of his words as usual.

“Heck, Sally and Buttons can protect them, and I’ll watch from the tree overhead. You needn’t worry.”

Both dogs woofed in surprise, totally caught off-balance by the full meaning and content of Iggy’s words.

“Well,” said Sally.

“Gee,” responded Buttons.

“You’ll what?” glared the cat.

“Well, why not,” said Sally. “We got you into this mess. We can help to get you out of it.”

“No,” said Buttons. She began to back out, and looking at the cat who had partially risen, her back beginning to arch, said, “We’ll be right back. I’ve a better solution.” Buttons giggled, “You’ll see.”

The three sat outside for several minutes. The words of their discussion came muffled to the cat, who lay unmoving as her kittens nursed. The content of the discussion could not be made out, but their voices rose on occasion and then would sink. The cat began to worry that the dogs—in particular, the small black one—meant more mischief towards her and her litter. But then, Sally’s nose appeared, with Iggy’s right beside her.

“Buttons has gone to check, but we think we can solve everything,” Sally quickly said as she saw the concern on the cat’s face.

“Ya,” said Iggy, “don’t worry. Buttons can fix anything when she sets her mind to it.”

The feline was too kind to reply. Actually, she was too preoccupied with one of the kittens who had just decided he would examine the two new creatures before him, and was stumbling and lurching across the floor of the den towards them. Sally leaned forward and licked the small creatures’ face, and Iggy could only coo as they watched the odd progress of the kitten.