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Louis
's
mind
turned
to
Ellie
as
he
had
last
seen
her
tonight
,
fast
asleep
with
Church
purring
rustily
on
the
foot
of
the
mattress
.
"
My
daughter
's
got
a
cat
,
"
he
said
.
"
Winston
Churchill
.
We
call
him
Church
for
short
.
"
"
Do
they
climb
when
he
walks
?
"
"
I
beg
your
pardon
?
"
Louis
had
no
idea
what
he
was
talking
about
.
"
He
still
got
his
balls
or
has
he
been
fixed
?
"
"
No
,
"
Louis
said
.
"
No
,
he
has
n't
been
fixed
.
"
In
fact
there
had
been
some
trouble
over
that
back
in
Chicago
.
Rachel
had
wanted
to
get
Church
spayed
,
had
even
made
the
appointment
with
the
vet
.
Louis
canceled
it
.
Even
now
he
was
n't
really
sure
why
.
It
was
n't
anything
as
simple
or
as
stupid
as
equating
his
masculinity
with
that
of
his
daughter
's
tom
,
nor
even
his
resentment
at
the
idea
that
Church
would
have
to
be
castrated
so
the
fat
housewife
next
door
would
n't
need
to
be
troubled
with
twisting
down
the
lids
of
her
plastic
garbage
cans
--
those
things
had
been
part
of
it
,
but
most
of
it
had
been
a
vague
but
strong
feeling
that
it
would
destroy
something
in
Church
that
he
himself
valued
--
that
it
would
put
out
the
go-to-hell
look
in
the
cat
's
green
eyes
.
Finally
he
had
pointed
out
to
Rachel
that
they
were
moving
to
the
country
,
and
it
should
n't
be
a
problem
.
Now
here
was
Judson
Crandall
,
pointing
out
that
part
of
country
living
in
Ludlow
consisted
of
dealing
with
Route
15
,
and
asked
him
if
the
cat
was
fixed
.
Try
a
little
irony
,
Dr.
Creed
--
it
's
good
for
your
blood
.
"
I
'd
get
him
fixed
,
"
Crandall
said
,
crushing
his
smoke
between
his
thumb
and
forefinger
.
"
A
fixed
cat
do
n't
tend
to
wander
as
much
.
But
if
it
's
all
the
time
crossing
back
and
forth
,
its
luck
will
run
out
,
and
it
'll
end
up
there
with
the
Ryder
kids
"
coon
and
little
Timmy
Dessler
's
cocker
spaniel
and
Missus
Bradleigh
's
parakeet
.
Not
that
the
parakeet
got
run
over
in
the
road
,
you
understand
.
It
just
went
feet
up
one
day
.
"
"
I
'll
take
it
under
advisement
,
"
Louis
said
.
