Introduction: Toby Gets Rabies
Ratigan knelt before me, trembling as he touched his palms and forehead to the ground.
I licked my lips in eager anticipation. I'd waited for this day for years!
He looked up at me with terror in his eyes. "Spare me! I'll do anything!"
A wicked chuckle nearly escaped my lips. Hearing him grovel was the sweetest sound imaginable!
"Are you going to eat my food?!"
My eyes fluttered open, and I realized that I was standing in a kitchen. The dog's food bowl, containing a few scraps that Mrs. Hudson had given him earlier, was inches away from my nose.
Toby was staring at me. "You'd better not eat my food! Our humans give you plenty!"
"Sorry. I guess I was sleepwalking. I was dreaming about that rat again," I explained.
"Felicia, he's been dead for over a year," Toby reminded me.
"Good riddance!" I sighed. "There are times I still wonder what would have happened if your humans hadn't allowed me to move into their home."
"You would've bled to death from the wounds the royal guard dogs administered," he replied. "Look, you live here now, and you've changed your ways. Now that we've got that settled, I would like to point out that it's a half hour until midnight, so we should go back to sleep."
I nodded and followed him back to the main room, where I curled up on my favorite cushion in front of the fireplace. Toby lay down in his usual spot and started tossing and turning. Fifteen minutes later, he was still restless.
"What is your problem?!" I demanded.
"Insomnia," he replied.
"Would you be able to go to sleep if I sang for you?"
The dog frowned. "You sing?"
"Yes, I sing!" I thought a moment. "I will sing about Pinchin Lane, where you used to live before you moved in with Mr. Holmes."
Toby gave me a strange look, but he nodded, and I began my song:
He's the horror throughout Hampstead.
Of Baker Street, he's the bane.
Yes, your future is grim
Should you chance to see him;
He's the plague of Pinchin Lane!
All his manners are appalling,
And his face could stop a train.
Just one look and you'll see
Why so many say he
Is the plague of Pinchin Lane.
He somehow thinks he is clever,
Though he doesn't have a brain.
Every time he is near,
His adversaries cheer
For the plague of Pinchin Lane.
London's criminals start laughing
As he looks for them in vain.
He thinks he's a great sleuth,
But we know that in truth
He's the plague of Pinchin Lane.
He's the reason for my headaches;
He has caused every migraine.
As he's always the main
Cause of evil and pain,
And there's nothing to gain
From this beast gone insane.
Who could help but complain
As they look with disdain
At the plague of Pinchin Lane?!
When I finished my song, Toby glared. "Cat, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were singing about me!"
"Very clever, sleuth!" I complimented sarcastically.
"That wasn't funny."
"I found it hilarious."
He continued to glare.
"Look, dog. I know you're trying to get to sleep, so I'll make up for the musical joke with a nice bedtime story." I considered what story to tell him. "Today as I was walking through the alley, I saw a dog. He had a sort of foam around his mouth, and he acted as if rage had driven him insane."
Toby's eyes widened. "Rabies!"
"A horrible disease!" I commented. "The lingering agony is dreadful! Just imagine the torment of excruciating convulsions of the entire body for days or even weeks before your brain finally suffers a stroke and ends your misery!"
He shuddered.
"Not to worry." I smirked and began rubbing against him in that special manner we cats have. "Although it is possible and has happened before, cats usually don't get rabies. However, a perfectly healthy cat can easily transmit the rabies virus to other animals, such as dogs."
I thought Toby was going to have a heart attack. He sprang to his feet and hid under the nearest chair in less time than it takes to tell about it. I'd never seen him move so fast. Meanwhile, he was whimpering like he was being mauled by the Baskerville hound.
Hearing the sound of human footsteps approaching, I pretended to be asleep. Usually, the humans weren't too happy about their pets waking them up in the middle of the night. The footsteps stopped in the middle of the living room, but I didn't hear a voice, so I knew it was Mr. Holmes. He always liked to see if he could figure out the problem before ordering us to go back to sleep.
"What's come over you, Toby?!" Mr. Holmes demanded. "Cats have a rather acute sense of hearing, yet Mrs. Hudson's companion appears not to be alarmed. Therefore, one must conclude there is nothing in this room that could have caused your anxiety, nor does there appear to be any suspicious activity outside."
Although he was a man of extraordinary intelligence, Mr. Holmes lacked the knowledge to understand the conversation of other species. There was no way Toby could explain the situation, so the human returned to his room, still puzzled about why the dog seemed frightened while I was nonchalantly sleeping.
I loved it. There were very few individuals who could boast of outwitting Mr. Holmes, yet I had just baffled him.
When the flat was quiet again, I finally succumbed to the fit of laughter I'd been hiding.
"What's so funny?!" Toby queried.
Gasping for breath, I asked him if he knew the meaning of the phrase "work of fiction."
"You didn't really see a rabid dog, did you?"
I shook my head. "You should have seen your eyes!" I started laughing again. "Let me tell you about this human by the name of Louis Pasteur. Over ten years ago, he…" I was laughing too hard to finish my sentence.
The dog snarled. "Cat, I am going to kill you!"
"For once, I'd probably deserve it," I answered.
He sighed. "I'm going to sleep now. Good night."
"Good night," I responded. "Tomorrow's story is about distemper."
Toby rolled his eyes. "Felicia, you're more evil than…!"
"Even you," I finished. "You've pulled some pretty good jokes too. Besides, you can't blame me for having a mischievous streak. You have to remember who raised me. I might have been different if Ratigan hadn't been a criminal."
"If Ratigan hadn't been a criminal," he repeated. "Now THAT would be a good story!"
"I'll see if I can find time to tell it tomorrow."