The hard wood floor creaked under his paws as he approached is office door. The light at the end of the hallway cast a long shadow almost to the other end of the hall, creating the illusion of another cat, a black shadow cat, approaching from the other direction. He chuckled when he reached the door, dark stained wood with a frosted glass window. 

Arthur Dent, P.I.

In giant black letters etched across the glass. 

Arthur nodded and tipped his hat in greeting to his own office. 

He extended a claw and picked the lock. The door squealed in protest as it opened. He kicked it closed behind him as he padded to his desk and tugged the chain on the desk lamp. The light came on and the chain wiggled. Arthur batted at the chain, switching the light off again. 

He straightened and cleared his throat. Again he tugged the chain and a small circle of light shown on his desk. He pulled his paw back to his face, resisting the urge to play with the sparkling chain. It was almost too much, but he was able to back away.

Arthur tossed his fedora toward the coat rack. It bounced off and fell to the floor. He sniffed at it and shrugged. It’d be fine there. 

The room was dark, other than the circle of light on his desk. Arthur went to the window and peeked through the blinds. The outside was gray, the same color as his own coat. He tugged the string and the blinds rose. He released the string and the blinds dropped, sending the string high. Arthur leapt at it, grabbing it with claws and teeth. The blinds snapped up and this time stayed. 

For a few moments Arthur lay on the floor gripping the string and kicking at it with his back legs. The excitement passed. He went to his desk. 

There was mail on the desk. Bills to pay. Notices. Arthur climbed into his seat and shoved the papers aside. Desks are for laying, not for piling papers. He folded himself into a circle and dozed off.

The click of claws on the hardwood floor got his attention. Arthur rolled and stretched, nearly knocking the lamp from the table. A silhouette appeared outside the office door. A cat, with long ears and whiskers. There was a quiet scratching at the door and a soft mew. Arthur ignored it. The scratching came again. Then quiet. 

Then drumming. Whomever was outside was sticking their paw under the door and pulling, pulling, pulling rattling the entire wall. The meowing grew in volume. Arthur listened.

A dame, he thought. Always a dame. 

“How’s a man gonna nap with all that ruckus,” he called.

“Please sir,” came the soft response. “I need your help!”

She strutted in, her white coat and bright blue eyes a striking contrast against the dark and gray interior of his office.

Arthur dashed back to his desk and hopped into the chair, staring down at her. She smiled coyly and leapt onto the desk. She sat and groomed her paw casually. 

“So, what?” meowled Arthur. 

The white cat froze mid lick, her tongue sticking out. After a moment, she licked her lips. “Oh yes,” she said. “I need your help.”

She stood and shook her body, her hair fluffing and waving and she did so. Arthur rolled his eyes. Drama. Of course, there’s drama.

“This morning I woke up,” she said, glancing around the room. “And…”

“And what?”

“I saw a mouse.”

Arthur slumped. “A mouse?”

“Yes!” She gestured enthusiastically. “It was huge! And there at my dish. Eating!”

Of course. “Yes, mice will eat.”

“But it’s my food,” she wailed. “Mine!”

Arthur slumped. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Get rid of it. Get rid of it. Get rid of it!”

Arthur leaned back. Mice were nothing. Yeah, not something you want in the house or eating from your dish, but nothing to lose your mind about. This cat was losing her mind.

He extended a claw and stuck it between his teeth. That piece of tuna had been bugging him for a while. 

“A mouse, eh?”

She stomped. “That’s what I said.”

“I can get rid of a mouse.” Arthur leaned forward. “But it’ll cost.”

She trilled. “I don’t have much.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll think of something.” He picked up a scrap of paper from the floor and dipped a claw in the ink well embedded in the desk. “You have a name.”

She puffed up. “I am Snow, for I am as white and fluffy as the beautiful snow of winter.”

Arthur grunted. It’s only beautiful if you don’t have to sleep in it. He scribbled he name on the paper. “Let’s go take care of your problem.”

She was nervous, Arthur could tell. Obviously, being outside of the house was not her usual M.O. The mouse must have been extremely upsetting for her to decide to leave the house and find help. Still, it was just a mouse. Arthur didn’t get it.

They dove through some bushes that opened into an expansive yard. Arthur paused for a moment, gaping at the house before him. It was simply enormous. He followed her as she padded carefully to a stone porch to a dog flap. She meowed and an exuberant dog raced to the door. There was a click and the dog pushed the door open with his nose, sniffing at her and Arthur. 

Arthur instinctively arched his back and hissed. The dog backed quickly into the house and barked. 

Snow drew a deep breath. “He’s big. He’s stupid.” She turned to Arthur. “He’ll make a lot of noise but should leave us alone.” Cautiously, Snow shoved the door open with her nose and slipped into the house. The dog stood to the side barking wildly. Snow hissed and spit, raising a paw. The dog leapt back. Arthur took that as his cue to dash through the door and into the house. He darted passed the dog into the darker parts of the house and hid, waiting for Snow to come through.

His wait wasn’t very long. She ran past and Arthur took up chase until they passed through a gate and Snow stopped. Arthur jumped over her to keep from crashing into her. He stopped and looked back.

She was seated and grooming herself casually. The dog meanwhile barked at them both from the opposite side of the gate, whining and crying in frustration. 

Arthur chuckled. This girl was wild! “Explain to me again how you’re ok with that dog and not with a little bitty mouse?”

Snow paused mid-lick. She turned to Arthur. “Did I say itty-bitty?”

“You said mouse.”

“This isn’t itty bitty.” She stood and strutted past Arthur, deeper into the house. The further they went, the further from the exit. Arthur was concerned about her comment. Not itty bitty? But mice are tiny.

They came into a well-lit room. In front of them were three bowls, one with water, one with kibble, and one that was empty. Arthur trotted forward and started eating the kibble. He hadn’t eaten in a while, so this was welcome. Snow snorted in disgust. 

Arthur stopped and wiped his mouth. He cleared his throat. “So this is the place?”

“Yes,” she said. “Don’t you smell it?”

Arthur tested the air. He didn’t smell mouse. He dabbed his nose at the water dish and at the empty dish. Still no mouse. But definitely something else. 

Something he’d smelled before, but couldn’t quite place.

Arthur thought back to his kitten days. He lived with family on the streets, searching garbage cans and trash bags for morsels to eat. His mother would lead he and his siblings through the alleys to the best places to eat. Most of the time, they could just walk up and start munching. If there were mice or rats already eating, she would puff up and chase them off. 

But there were times when she would turn the family around. It was always about someone else already being there. He’d thought it was another cat, but there was always this smell.

The smell he smelled right now.

He didn’t know what that smell was, but he knew it wasn’t good. 

“The mouse comes here and eats all my food,” Snow grumbled. “It hisses at me.”

Arthur shook his head to clear the memories and get back to where he was now. The bowl smelled of that mysterious other that his mother feared so much. The only thing he knew for sure was that this was no mouse. No rat. It was no animal he’d smelled before.

“It’s not a mouse,” he muttered.

“A rat, then. A rat,” Snow said.

Arthur frowned. “Why do you think that? Rats don’t hiss.”

“This one does.” Snow started grooming herself again. 

“Rats and mice don’t hiss.”

“It looks like a rat.”

“In what way?”

“It has a long nose, round ears, and an long scaly tail. It’s a rat.” Snow shrugged.

Arthur sat watching the bowls. A person had put food in the empty bowl while Arthur hid. No person would want him in the house and Arthur didn’t want to get found out. But also, this person was so inattentive that this ‘rat’ had been able to sneak in and eat Snow’s food. Arthur didn’t have to work very hard to keep out of sight and was now stretched out napping with one eye on the bowls, waiting for the mysterious ‘rat’ to appear. 

The room was dark when Arthur heard the slap of paws on the linoleum. He opened an eye. The click of claws and watery breathing came closer. A dark shadow loomed.

Arthur’s eyes widened. The black silhouette of the most massive rat he’d ever seen slipped past him on his way to the food dishes. It stuck its nose in the bowl and started eating, breathing heavily with each bite.

Arthur slipped out from his hiding place and realized his fur was standing up. He shook to try to lay it down, a sound which attracted the attention of the giant rat. It stopped eating an turned toward him. 

The smell. That was the smell. The one that was more than his mother would bear. It was staring at him. 

“Who are you,” Arthur stammered, standing as tall as he could.

The ‘rat’ hissed. “Mine,” it said.

“It’s not yours,” said Arthur. 

The rat turned. “It’s mine!” 

Arthur stepped back, feeling his back arching up. He squinted, leaning forward. “What are you? You’re not a rat.”

It was taken aback. “Rat? I am no rat!”

“I see that. But I’ve never seen someone like you before.”

“Then you haven’t been paying attention.” The creature turned back to the bowls. 

“But you’re eating someone else’s food.”

“Are you gonna stop me?” the creature said with a full mouth. It turned. “Those dogs can’t stop me. What makes you think you can?”

Arthur tapped a claw, then sat. “But who are you? What are you?”

“Haven’t you ever seen an opossum?” the creature said, exasperated. “You talk too much. Go away.” He went back to eating.

Arthur skulked through the house. He found Snow asleep on the bed with the person. He hatched a plan. Cautiously, Arther woke Snow. She growled for having been disturbed but became silent as Arthur whispered to her. 

They jumped off the bed and sat side by side. 

And they screamed. 

They made all the screams they could muster, as though they were fighting. Snow could barely restrain herself from laughing, but they kept going.

The person yelled angrily and flipped on the light. They dashed out the door into the hallway and continued to scream. The person struggled to get his slippers on and stumbled after them into the hall. 

Snow and Arthur continued to shout and carry on, just ahead of the person. They stepped into a dark room and collided with the opossum who had been beating a hasty retreat. 

Snow cried out startled. The opossum hissed back stumbling into the hallway as the person flipped on the light. 

As soon as the person laid eyes on the opossum he flew into action. He snatched a broom and prodded the opossum in an effort to startle it away. Instead, it collapsed. 

Arthur and Snow cowered in the dark room watching the scene unfold. The opossum was limp and didn’t respond no matter how much the person poked at it. The person finally scooped up the opossum with a shovel and carried it outside.

Arthur Dent was napping on his desk when there was a gentle tap at his door. He sighed and stretched, reluctant to wake. At the door was Snow, smiling coyly. 

“Hello, Arthur Dent, P.I.,” she smiled.

“Snow ma’am.”

“I just wanted to thank you for getting that rat out of the house.” She batted her eyelashes. “My person has fixed to door, so it can’t come in any more. Plus, that was fun.”

Arthur nodded. “Just doing my job.”

“I thought maybe we could do something, you know, some time.”

Arthur snorted. “Call me when you have another case, ma’am.” He ushered her to the door. “I got other things to do.”

He shut the door on her and turned back to his desk. Dames. Always want something. But he didn’t have time for that. There were naps to be taken.