Claws and Effect Read Online Free PDF

on the tack trunk in the aisle.
“Cleanliness is next to godliness.”
    â€œYou think you’re so smart.”
    â€œCats are smarter than dogs.”
    â€œThat’s what you say but it’s not true. Cats don’t save shipwrecked humans. Newfoundlands do that. Cats don’t rescue people in avalanches. St. Bernards do that. Cats don’t even herd cows or pull their weight in the fields. Corgis do that. So there.”
    â€œRight. I told you cats were smarter than dogs. Further proof: You’ll never get eight cats to pull a sled in the snow.”
She hurriedly washed her paws since she didn’t want Harry to think she could wash her down.
    â€œYou two are chatty.” Harry finished with Tucker, cut the hose, then wiped her off with an old towel.
    A frugal soul, Harry saved everything. She had a pile of old towels in a hanging basket in the aisle outside the washroom. She also kept old towels in the tack room and she even picked up worn-out towels from the country club, purchasing them for a few dollars. For one thing, she needed them, but for another, Harry couldn’t abide waste. It seemed like a sin to her.
    â€œBeauty basket.”
Murphy smiled slyly at Tucker.
    â€œThank you. I thought you’d never notice. If she’s cleaning me up it means we’re going somewhere. Wonder where?”
    â€œWell, Augusta Co-op for feed, always high on Mom’s list. Wal-Mart. A and N for jeans if she needs any. Oh, don’t forget AutoZone. She’ll pick up a case of motor oil, windshield-wiper fluid, oil filters. Then again she might go to James River Equipment to get oil and oil filters for the tractor. You know her. It won’t be the jewelry store. She’s the only woman I know who would like a new set of wrenches for Valentine’s Day as opposed to earrings or even flowers.”
    Tucker laughed.
“She loves flowers, though.”
    â€œShe’ll send Fair flowers.”
Murphy laughed because in most ways Harry was quite predictable, but then cats always knew humans better than humans knew cats.
    â€œLet me look at you.” Harry walked over to Mrs. Murphy, who didn’t bother to run away from her. After all, if she did and made Harry mad, she wouldn’t get to ride in the truck, and Murphy adored riding in the truck, lording it over lowly cars.
    â€œClean as a whistle.”
    Harry inspected each dark paw, the color of Mrs. Murphy’s tiger stripes. “Pretty good there, pussycat.”
    â€œTold you.”
    Harry picked up an animal under each arm, strode outside and put them inside the truck. No dirty paw marks on her seat covers. To haul her horse trailer, a year ago she’d bought a new dually, a one-ton truck with four wheels in the back for greater stability. She’d agonized for years over this decision, fretting over the financial drain, but it worked out okay because Fair helped a bit and she watched her pennies. But for everyday running about she used the tough old 1978 Ford, four-wheel drive, half ton. She’d bought cushy sheepskin covers for the bench seat as she’d worn out the original sheepskin covers.
    When she closed the door, she thought about Pewter, then decided to let the cat sleep. True, Pewter would be grouchy on their return but she wanted to get rolling. Once a job was completed, Harry wanted to move on to the next one.
    Her grandmother once said that Harry was “impatient of leisure,” an apt description.
    Once on the road they headed toward Crozet instead of going toward Route 64, which would take them to Waynesboro where Harry shopped. She avoided Charlottesville for the most part since it was so expensive.
    â€œBag Augusta Co-op.”
Murphy observed the sodden landscape.
    Both animals were surprised when Harry turned down the long, tree-lined drive to Dalmally Farm, passed the chaste yet still imposing main house, and continued on to a lovely cottage in the rear not far from the