Page 38 of The Cajun Doctor

Samantha didn’t like the sound of that we.

“Show me, too,” Daniel said, coming up behind them.

Samantha glanced his way with chagrin.

“What? I’d like to know what the old bird’s plans are, too, especially since I own half the place. I still don’t understand how we could house a bunch of animals here. Who’s gonna take care of them? I mean, there would have to be a manager or vet on hand, wouldn’t there?” He noticed Tante Lulu grinning at him. “Oh, no! I’m not qualified—”

“A doctor’s a doctor, I allus say.”

“Forget about it!”

“Whatever you say,” Tante Lulu said with a meekness suspicious to say the least.

“And where do you expect me and Aaron to be when this is going on?”

“It’s all in St. Jude’s hands, honey.”

Samantha could tell he was restraining himself from saying something nasty, even sacrilegious.

“Besides, I have the perfect person in mind fer manager,” Tante Lulu added.

“Who?” Daniel demanded to know.

“I’ll tell ya when the time is right.”

“By the way, Daniel”—Samantha had an idea—“do you know what you need to keep your lawn nice and tidy?”

“Does Hummer make lawn mowers?”

“Very funny. A goat.”

“A what? No, no, no! A monster cat, I can accept.” Said cat was lying on the grass, munching on something. He hoped it was catnip. “But no goats. No way! And what the hell are you doing with a goat anyway?”

“Thass a great idea,” Tante Lulu said to Samantha. To Daniel, she explained, “Samantha rescues animals in her spare time. Bet she’s got a goat or two. Sheep would be good, too. Bet she could give ya some dogs, too. Or wouldja prefer pigs and rats.”

Daniel turned to stare at Samantha with surprise. “You have pigs and rats?”

“Well, I have one pig. Only one. A potbellied pig. Not the kind you raise for meat. But no rats; Tante Lulu is referring to gerbils. And, actually, I got rid of . . . I mean, I found a home for . . . the goat this morning. One goat, not two,” she said pointedly, glancing toward Tante Lulu. “A farmer from Alabama, in town for the Holstein convention, heard about my goat. And he also took the llama, the goose, and all the ducks. He would have taken Emily, the pig, but she’s a pet breed, not a farm porker, and besides that, Emily is depressed, which is off-putting to some people. My neighbors are probably celebrating as we speak. There had been talk about goose liver pate and Peking duck. Oh, and I forgot. I have a cockatoo named Clarence I’d love to get rid of.”

“Samantha!” Tante Lulu said with shock.

“What?”

“Ladies doan mention a man’s private parts.”

“Huh?”

“You mentioned yer boyfriend Clarence’s wiener.”

“Oh, good Lord! Clarence is a bird.”

“Well, it ain’t ladylike ta mention a bird’s privates, either.”

Samantha threw her hands in the air, a gesture of surrender.

Daniel’s jaw dropped with amazement, whether at her array of pets, or her as their caretaker, or Tante Lulu’s mistaking her cockatoo for a penis, she wasn’t sure. But then, his quick survey of her attire ended with, “Been shopping at Walmart, have you?”

Okay, so he’d decided on a change of subject. And he had a point there. Samantha did like designer clothing, some of which might not be animal friendly, as in a magnet for pet hair or other animal unmentionables. Today, she wore a Pucci, silk, one-shoulder blouse in a shell and seagull motif with artful knots at the shoulder and hemline, over stretch cotton crop pants, Rebecca Minkoff ankle cuff sandals, a floppy straw sun hat, and Kate Spade retro sunglasses.