Scamp wandered into the parlor—he was bored out of his mind. Jim Dear was at work and Darling was knitting a sweater for Junior, who was napping. His mom and dad were outside talking with Jock and Trusty about some "important" adult thing, and his sisters, who were never good playmates, were—well, Scamp didn't have a clue as to what they were doing.
As Scamp entered the room, the first thing that he saw was the black-mask face, flaxen body, and intensely curious blue eyes of Si, sitting on the back of the sofa, his long black tail dangling with a sight curl at the end. Scamp hesitated, took a few steps backward, and cast a nervous glance around the room.
Where was Am? Those two cats were never apart from each other.
The two brothers had come to stay for two weeks, while their owner, Aunt Sarah, took a cruise. Ever since they had come, Scamp's life had been miserable! Those two cats seemed to take perverse pleasure in driving him nuts, and he simply couldn't control his yearning to chase them. They were just too tempting.
Scamp didn't see Am anywhere…strange. He took a gulp of air to gather his courage. He was about to try making friends.
Scamp approached the sofa and stood under the cat's unblinking gaze. Slowly, his tail started to wag and he spread his lips in a friendly smile. His tail was beating fast now.
Si 's only movement was to lean forward, ever so slightly, as if to get a better look, but his feet remained stationary, his expression unreadable.
Slowly, Scamp's tail decreased in speed until it came to a stop. His smile disappeared, replaced by a look of concerned nervousness.
He began to wonder why Si wasn't toppling off the sofa to land on top of him. Could an animal really have that good a balance?
Maybe right now wasn't a good time to make friends with the cat. Oh well.
Scamp was determined to behave himself in a way that would please Jim Dear, Darling, and his parents, so he turned around and headed for the hallway.
He sighed. Maybe he would have to endure his sisters after all.
But before he could take three steps, he felt the razor sharp stab of Si's paw against his flank. He couldn't help it—he yelped and spun around to defend himself from an ambush. This was not his fault!
Si was back on the sofa before Scamp could catch him. This time he sat and licked his legs, with only a token glance at Scamp to show how pleased he was.
Darling appeared a moment later, yarn in one hand and Junior's small hand in the other.
"Scamp," her voice was gentle, but firm, "now, you know better than to snap at the cats." She went over to caressed Si's head, "He's a sweet kitty, Scamp; leave him alone." Si purred and nuzzled Darling's hand. Scamp's jaws could have fallen open in shock.
He's a sweet kitty? She had to be kidding!
"Go on, Scamp, shoo," Darling set her yarn down and pulled Scamp, by the collar, towards the hall. He got the message and headed off to find his sisters, but as he started down the hall, he heard Darling laugh. He peeked around the corner to see what fun he'd missed.
Darling was bending over Si, who lay on his back, lovingly unwinding tangled yarn from the cat's legs and body. She didn't seem to mind that the cat had put several knots in her knitting—Scamp would have definitely gotten in trouble for messing it up, but not the cats, never the cats.
They never got in trouble.
Scamp shook his head, bewildered, and headed down the hall.
Later that day, Scamp wondered into the dining room. He stopped short. Lying across the table was the long flaxen body of a Siamese cat.
Am, suddenly aware that he was being watched, lazily turned his head, to see who his adversary might be. With his head turned, Am's body looked so lopsided on the edge of the table that Scamp again marveled at a cat's ability to balance.
Seeing only the puppy, Am took a few lazy licks at his paw.
Again, Scamp glanced around warily. Where was Si? Could he really have caught both cats by themselves on the same day?
Scamp stomped his paw a few paw a few times. He knew that the cats weren't allowed on the table; he was determined to enforce the rules.
Am didn't even look up from his washing. Stomping wasn't going to get it done.
But, Scamp was determined. The cats knew the rules—they should respect them!
He gave a quiet yip.
Am pinned his ears back at the unwelcome noise, but didn't look up, and didn't stop his bath.
Scamp was appalled—the gull of cats!
He barked. What choice did he have?
Am tensed and shot the puppy a look that could've killed him.
Bark. Bark. Bark. Scamp's tail began to wag. This was going to work! He had the cat's undivided attention.
"Scamp," Jim Dear's voice came from down the hall, "What is it?"
At the sound of a human, Am baled off the table and slipped past Scamp and down the hall.
Scamp followed, still barking. Success! The cat listened to him.
"SCAMP!" Jim Dear stood in his office doorway as Am hurried past, "We've told you hundreds of times not to chase the cats."
Scamp was seized by the collar
Huh? He wasn't chasing Am.
Well, maybe that's what it looked like, but he hadn't meant too! He was only enforcing Jim Dear's own rules and then he followed Am out as he left the dining room—he wasn't trying to chase the cat.
Scamp heard Jim Dear sigh. "You've got to learn, pup, no chasing the cats." He sighed again, "I'm sorry, Scamp, but I've got to put in the doghouse."
As he was being carried down the hall, Scamp closed his eyes in sorrow; he always got in trouble. When he looked back over Jim Dear's shoulder, he saw Am staring back with an expression of passive curiosity.
Scamp suddenly awoke on the ground, hooked by a chain to the doghouse in the backyard. It was close to midnight in early spring, but oddly Scamp wasn't cold, like he had been earlier when the sun went down.
He was suddenly aware that he wasn't alone. Two furry things, one on each side, lay cuddled in tight balls next to him. He looked closer and saw in shadow, with the help of a full moon's light, the pointed ears of his two great nemeses, their bodies rising and falling in contented sleep. Neither cat lifted his head.
Si's masked face was pressed into Scamp's ribs. Am had a velvet paw pressed against his neck. Scamp lay his head back down and sighed.
Perhaps, just perhaps, he would grow to love these two brothers after all.
A/N This story is in honor of our dogs and cats of old, two Boston Terriers, a Manx cat, and a Bangle cat. Of that Gang of Four, only the youngest, the Bangle cat, is still alive with us. I gave both Si and Am characteristics from the Manx and Bangle, but I must say, Si turned out a little more like our Manx and Am more like the Bangle. Scamp isn't an exact replica of either Boston either, but a little bit of both. The end bit really is them. It was not uncommon to see two dogs and two cats come out of a fairly small doghouse each morning for another day of fun.
