Thirty-six
In the bedroom, treading on his large plump pillow bed, Merlin turned three times before settling with a sigh, his head between his forepaws, his tail tucked between his hind legs.
Grady had brought another dog bed from the downstairs study and put it in the same corner with Merlin’s. He felt sure that from the wolfhound’s example, their visitors understood where they were to sleep.
Puzzle and Riddle, however, declined to turn in for the night. They circled the room, sniffing this and that, peering under the dresser, taking a quick taste of the water in all three of the water dishes, while Grady pulled the draperies shut at the windows.
As he folded back the thin bedspread and draped it neatly over the footboard, as he turned back the covers and the top sheet, and as he plumped his pillows, the pair sat watching him, heads cocked to the right, as if fascinated by his rituals.
“I hope you noticed,” he said, “that before I undid it, my bed was made as tight as a drum skin.”
Riddle cocked his head to the left.
“Once army, always army.”
Puzzle cocked her head to the left, and Riddle cocked his back to the right.
When Grady removed his shoes and put them by his nightstand, Puzzle scurried forward to smell them and to pluck tentatively at the loose laces.
In the walk-in closet, as Grady took off his shirt, jeans, and socks, Riddle followed him—and discovered the mirror on the back of the door. Intrigued by his reflection, Riddle made a thin sound—“Eee, eee”—and reached out to this apparent other of his kind. Surprised when the other reached toward him as he reached toward it, Riddle hesitated, considered the situation, then touched his hand to the reflection of his hand.
Over the years, Merlin had seen himself in mirrors many times, and he showed no interest in his reflection.
Riddle’s ears twitched, and he scurried out of the closet.
Returning to the bedroom, Grady found his two guests at the son of Ireland’s bed, watching their new friend with interest. Evidently they had been drawn by the wolfhound’s snoring, which was indeed impressive.
In the bathroom, after Grady squeezed toothpaste on his brush and turned on the cold water, Puzzle suddenly sprang onto the closed toilet seat and sat prairie-dog fashion, watching him with interest. Half a minute later, Riddle ascended to a position on the side of the bathtub, as intrigued as Puzzle appeared to be by their host’s dental-hygiene regimen.
After he finished brushing, they watched him floss. They watched him wash his face and trim a hangnail and wipe splashes of water off the countertop with a towel.
When the time came to toilet, Grady shooed them out of the bathroom and closed the door.
No sooner had he taken the throne than a soft, rapid, irregular rapping arose at the door.
“Go away,” Grady said.
The sound came again: rap-rap-rap, rap-rap, rap, rap-rap-rap-rap-rap.
“I didn’t go out in the yard and stare at you when you were peeing,” Grady reminded them.
Rap-rap, rap-rap, rap-rap-rap-rap-rap-rap.
“Good grief.”
The rapping stopped.
When he heard one of them sniffing along the crack between the bottom of the door and the threshold, he considered renaming them Nosey and Snoopy.
The silence that followed the sniffing was welcome, but then seemed to have a suspicious quality.
Although the skeleton key had long ago been lost, the old door featured a keyhole. Grady leaned sideways on the toilet, lowered his head, and clearly saw a luminous golden eye on the farther side of the keyway.
“You’re a little Peeping Tom. You two ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”
The golden eye blinked.
By the time Grady washed his hands and returned to the bedroom, Puzzle and Riddle were on his bed, lifting his pillows to peer under them.
“Off, off,” he told them.
They dropped his pillows, sat on his bed, folded their hands on their bellies, and watched him.
Having been awakened after such a short snooze, Merlin yawned extravagantly.
Grady went to the empty dog bed, fluffed it, and said to Puzzle and Riddle, “Here. This is yours.”
They stared at him attentively but didn’t leave his bed.
In the closet, where he kept a few dog toys, Grady selected a blue monkey. He returned to the bedroom, knelt beside the empty dog bed, and squeaked the monkey to entice Puzzle and Riddle to come to him.
Merlin grumbled, displeased to be disturbed.
A different toy might possibly lure the pair to their proper place. Instead, Grady decided to show them what was wanted, as he might show a puppy.
He went to his bed and scooped up Puzzle. She not only allowed herself to be lifted and carried, but she also curled into the cradle of his arms, exposing her belly, bending her forelimbs at the elbows and the wrists in an expression of happy compliance.
