Лори Касс - Tailing A Tabby

A black-and-white guy hopped over and sniffed at my shoes. “Aw…” I sat in the middle of the floor. “Can I pet him?” I asked, my hand hovering over fur that looked deliciously soft and pettable.

“Sure,” Greg said, “but he’s a her. That’s Rosie. She’s an English spot.”

I sank my fingers in and was delighted to learn that I’d been correct regarding the pettableness. “She’s gorgeous.” I gazed around. “They all are.”

Greg grinned. “I thought you might like them.”

“They’re adorable.” A small, floppy-eared fellow with thick fur hopped close. “And who are you, my little friend?” His fur didn’t look as soft, but it looked thick.

“That’s Baldy. He’s a fuzzy lop.”

Of course he was. How could he not be?

Greg went on to name each of his furry pals. Then came the breeds, their parentage and their weights. I quickly passed through the stage of full interest and moved happily to pet-the-cute-bunny status, hoping that Eddie wouldn’t get all uptight about me petting other people’s pets. Of a different species, no less.

I’d decided my favorite was a big-eared golden girl with a twitchy nose when Greg said, “So, you see, don’t you?”

What I saw was a roomful of happiness, if you didn’t count the litter boxes. “See what?”

“Well, this.” He spread his hands. “Last thing I want is people calling me the rabbit guy. Or worse, the bunny guy. I’d never live it down. I have an image to keep up, and if people found out I have more than thirty rabbits, well, you can just hear the jokes, can’t you?”

Thirty? I glanced around and almost started counting again. “Wouldn’t taking a few jokes be a lot cheaper than all this secrecy?”

He looked up from the Angora-looking bunny he was petting, and the expression on his face wasn’t one easy to read. Exasperation, a little condescension, a touch of humor, and a lot of… it couldn’t be sadness, could it?

Whatever it was, he didn’t reply to my question. “When Carissa was killed, my favorite female was giving birth, and she was having a hard time. Dr. Joe and I were by her side the entire night. No way would I have left her.”

But I hadn’t seen any baby bunnies.

“They’re in another room,” Greg said, correctly interpreting my not-very-covert glance. “I keep the mamas and babies out of the general population for a couple of months.”

“They’d be what, almost three weeks old? Can I see them?”

“Sure, if you want.” He carefully moved the rabbit from his lap to the floor and stood. “They’re over here.” He opened a door. “The gray ones, in the closest cage.”

And they were adorable little balls of cuteness. I longed to take one, no, two, home with me, but they were far too young to be taken away from their mother. Plus, I wasn’t sure how Eddie would feel about roommates.

“Yeah, Shadow there wasn’t doing well,” Greg said, draping his long arm across the length of the cage and looking in with a concerned eye. “This was her first litter, and those can be tough.”

“Oh, sure.” Like I’d know. The closest I’d ever come to the birthing process was seeing an extremely pregnant library patron turn an unusual shade of white and clutch at her belly. “Call my husband,” she’d gasped, and I’d been more than happy to do so.

Greg smiled down at the little family. “I always worry about first litters. That’s why I paid Dr. Joe a fortune to be here the whole time. Just in case, you know?”

“He’s a nice guy.” Dr. Joe was also Eddie’s vet.

“Yeah, but did you ever wonder about his sense of humor? Seems a little off, if you know what I mean.”

I’d never thought about Dr. Joe that way, but I didn’t have thirty rabbits, either.

“My wife says I need to lighten up about him,” Greg said. “She says most vets wouldn’t make house calls for small animals and I should cut him some slack.”

I could almost feel my ears twitching, rabbitlike. “Your wife? Is she here?”

Sighing, he worked his fingers through the wires of the cage to pet one of the babies. “Nah. She went back downstate right after Christmas. I got her a giant chinchilla buck, thought maybe that would get her interested in the rabbits… .” His voice trailed off.

I watched him for a while, then asked, “I take it the chinchilla didn’t work?”

He shook his head. “She said it was them or her. I thought she’d be back. I thought she’d get to miss them, but it hasn’t happened.” He sighed. “So I have to get rid of them, I guess.” His fingers sank deep into the gray fur, almost disappearing. “I keep hoping she’ll change her mind. Do you think she will?”

Not only was I not a matchmaking assistant to Aunt Frances, I was also not a marriage counselor. “I’d ask her that question.”

“‘Them or me,’” he quoted mournfully. “It was after I got an e-mail from her saying ‘Them or me’ that I went out with Carissa after meeting her at that car dealership. It was just that once; she didn’t know I was married. She was a lot of fun. But it wasn’t right.”

“Because you’re still married?” I asked.

“I love my wife,” he said. “I’m going to figure out a way to get her back. And anyway, I don’t want anyone else to know about the rabbits, so I stay away from women in general.”

“Sorry?”

“Ah, you know what woman are like. They want to get to know you.” He rolled his eyes. “They want to talk about feelings. Guys are easier. They just talk about sports. You can know a guy for years and not know anything about him.”

Which didn’t make any sense, but I knew what he meant. And though I also knew his blanket statement was by no means true for all women and all men, I did know a lot of them who fit nicely into his pigeonholes.

“You’re the only person I’ve told about the rabbits outside of my family. Well, you and Dr. Joe.”

I used my index finger to make a cross over my heart. “Hope to die and stick a needle in my eye, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thought so.” He thumped me on the shoulder. “Like I said, Chris said you were okay and I trust Chris.”

“Really?” My eyebrows went up. “I mean, that’s nice. It’s good to trust people.” I winced at my inanity, but Greg didn’t seem to think my statement was stupid.

“You got that right,” he said. “That’s why I felt okay telling the county cops about Carissa and why I couldn’t have killed her.”

“The detectives talked to you?”

“Yeah, short, fat guy and a tall, skinny one? They were out here a couple days after Carissa died. Guess she’d been on Facebook about the time we had dinner,” he said. “Just what I need, my name all over social media. But, hey, at least she didn’t know about the rabbits.” He grinned.

“So, why did you lie to me earlier, about knowing her?”

He lifted his shoulders. Let them drop. “The whole thing is so hard to explain. If I’d told you I was separated from my wife and only went out with Carissa that once, would you have believed me?”

Maybe. Then again, maybe not.

The indecision must have shown in my face. “See?” he asked. “You’re not sure. To have it all make sense I would have had to tell you everything, and I didn’t want to. Sometimes it’s easier to lie than to tell the truth, right?”

Sure. But that didn’t make it right.

“All I want is to be left alone,” he said. “That’s why I’m looking for the right boat. Out on the water no one will bug me.”

“Or the bunnies?”

He flashed me a wide smile. “Or the bunnies.”

• • •

First thing the next morning I called Dr. Joe, the vet.

“Greg Plassey?” he repeated. “Sure, he’s one of my clients. Him and his… uh…”