Free Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 06 - Behind the Walls by Elaine Orr

on the other and forced her mouth open. I had no idea a cat could growl so deeply without having control of its mouth. He shone a small pen light down her throat and let go of her.
    “Judging by her water bowl, I’d say she’s drinking normally. I gave her a more expensive brand of food last night, and she gobbled it.”
    “Special occasion?” he asked, as he shone the pen light into her eyes. Jazz aimed her mouth at his finger, but missed.
    “We just moved into my new house.” I felt almost silly saying “we,” as if Jazz was a person.
    Dr. Holly looked at me directly. “Did she used to live with other pets?”
    “Yes, Aunt Madge’s…”
    “Retrievers, yes, of course. She seemed to get along with them?”
    “The last year, especially. She sometimes slept between them.” It had never occurred to me that Jazz might miss the dogs that much. I’d had her for several years before we moved in with Aunt Madge. She was used to being alone when I was working, and I had never had other pets.
    “Unless the blood work shows something, my diagnosis would be that she is simply very upset.” He put my cat carrier on the exam table and opened the door. It took me about fifteen seconds to wrestle Jazz out of the towel and into the cage. She gave a really long hiss and then tried to swat my fingers while I locked the carrier.
    “So, what do I do?” I asked.
    “You could give it a week or two to see if she calms down, maybe take her back to the B&B for a visit. I don’t attribute true thinking skills to animals, but seeing the dogs might reassure her that they aren’t gone forever.”
    I thanked him and carried Jazz to the car. Aunt Madge had let me bring Jazz and been kind to her, but she is not a big fan of cats. Jazz tried to wander through the B&B, and Aunt Madge did not want her hair or dander to be a source of allergens for guests. Jazz was relegated to my bedroom unless she was with me in the great room.
    I drove to the Cozy Corner, an idea slowly taking form. Jazz seemed more fond of Mr. Rogers than Miss Piggy. She wound herself around his legs if he stood still for more than a minute, and she followed him around like a puppy. Miss Piggy is more laid back than Mr. Rogers. I figured Jazz could take or leave Miss Piggy. And two retrievers would take up a lot of room in my small cottage if we planned an overnight visit.
    I parked in the B&B’s small lot and left Jazz in the car in her carrier. It was only about fifty degrees, and I left the windows down. Her yowl carried to the side door of the B&B as I inserted my key. I could hear the vacuum above me. 
    Aunt Madge is technically my great aunt. Her late sister Alva was my grandmother. My mother visited Aunt Madge every summer until she was old enough to want to spend all her time with her friends. She often said the bungalow Aunt Madge and her late husband, Uncle Gordon, lived in at that time was always so clean you never saw as much as a grain of sand on the door mat. The B&B is also spotless, but she tolerates a bit of mess from guests. Not too much from me.
    I went up the main stairway, which is in the foyer, and yelled hello. I didn’t want to startle her.
    “Good morning, Jolie,” she said as she wrapped the cord around her vacuum. “Surprised to see you this time of day.”
    “I have a special request that involves Mr. Rogers.” As we walked down the back stairs into her great room, she listened as I recounted my conversation with Dr. Holly. “So, I wondered if I could borrow him, maybe over night. If she sleeps when he’s there, I’ll know she’s not sick.”
    “Hmm. I never thought of the dogs as diagnostic tools, but I suppose it’s worth a try.” She turned on her electric kettle. “I reserve the right to call you at three in the morning if Miss Piggy starts running through this house.”
     
    I RACED THROUGH an appraisal at a house in the popsicle district. It was as if I wanted it to be nighttime so I could see if Jazz really would sleep