(Photo by Jenna Branch)

It was not a pretty sight.

Walking through the house, the subtle smell of cats permeated everything. It was difficult to get anywhere without tripping over a cat. In fact, several of them were at Donovan’s feet, rubbing up against his legs and following him everywhere he went. All the while, the meows of the dozen or so cats made for an almost musical background noise.

“Where you at, Donovan?” Kris’ voice called from the front door.

“In the kitchen,” he called back.

He heard the heavy footfalls of Kris’ boots as she made her way to him.

“What we got?” she asked as she joined him, and then stopped dead in her tracks as she saw what Donovan had found. “Oh.”

“Neighbors said it’s been a few days since they last saw her,” Donovan said as if he needed to explain what it was they were seeing.

“Well, I’ll go get a bag,” Kris said, wrinkling her nose, “and a shovel.”

“I’ll see if I can get the cats all into another room or something. Lock them in the bedroom, maybe?”

“Good luck,” Kris said as she left.

Donovan stooped down and picked up the pair of cats that were being the most affectionate and carried them over to the first door he could find. It turned out to be the bathroom and it seemed like as good as any other room to begin putting the cats into. There was even a litter box behind the toilet.

“Here you go,” he said and shut the cats into the room.

Those were the easy ones. The others were less trusting and by the time he had half of the cats in the bathroom, the rest had caught on to what was happening and decided to keep out of reach. Kris watched Donovan chase one cat around for close to a minute by the time she made him stop.

“They’re freaked out enough,” she said. “That should be enough to keep ’em back while we work.”

“Yeah,” Donovan panted and they got to work.

This sort of thing happened a lot more than most people assumed. Someone living alone, not a lot of close friends or relatives, and one day they pass away and it’s a few days before anyone notices, sometimes longer. Pets made it more complicated. He’d often heard people claim that cats would eat their deceased owners whereas dogs wouldn’t. They were wrong. About the dogs. Truth was, if the animal was hungry, it would take what it could get. Not every cat and not every dog would do it, but Donovan figured that it came down more to the individual animals, not the species as a whole.

“What you thinkin’ about?” Kris asked while they worked.

Both of them tended to let their minds wander whenever they had this sort of cleanup to do. It made the work easier. A part of their mind stayed here, stayed present with the job, but their focus was elsewhere.

“You ever wonder if squirrels or other animals can have phobias?” Donovan asked. “Like, can a squirrel be afraid of heights, or spiders, or something? Same as people?”

Kris took a few minutes to think about his question before replying. “No, I don’t think they can,” she finally said.

“How come?”

“Well, I think squirrels are already afraid of just about everything that isn’t obviously food, a mate, or a rival.”

“So you don’t think there are squirrels who make their home down low to the ground because they’re afraid of heights?”

“No, why?”

“Because there’s a squirrel over by my apartment that never climbs anything higher than a few feet. I’ve watched him and he just stays on the ground, has a little knot hole he lives in near the thunk of a tree. I’ve even seen him running away from cats and crows and he still refuses to go up high.”

Kris shrugged after a bit.

“Then maybe you’re right,” she admitted. “Maybe some squirrels are afraid of heights.”

“Weird, huh?”

She nodded.

“What about you?” he asked. “What are you thinking about?”

“How did people figure out how to make chocolate.”

“What, like who picked the cocoa bean and tried to eat it first?”

“No, because that’s not how you get chocolate. The beans themselves are slimy and gross.”

“Really?”

Kris nodded again.

“It’s a whole process, making chocolate. Look it up some time. But basically, you have to ferment the beans, then roast them, then you can start making chocolate.”

“Maybe they were trying to make alcohol out of the beans,” Donovan guessed. “People are always fermenting things to make alcohol.”

“But chocolate came from the new world where they didn’t make alcoholic drinks.”

“What?” That didn’t sound right to Donovan. “They drank alcohol in the Americas. Everyone did. That was the only way to have a clean drink, without parasites and stuff, wasn’t it? Besides, I’ve heard of chocolate liquor.”

Kris lost the look of certainty on her face.

“I don’t really know, then,” she admitted. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe someone was just trying to get drunk and instead they made chocolate.”

“Pretty epic accident.”

“I’ll have to raise a glass to them, next time I eat some chocolate.”

“I think I’ll grab a chocolate shake after work.”

“Ooh, that does sound good.” Kris nodded along at the idea. “Mind if I join you?”

“Sure.”

By this time they were pretty much done with the bulk of the work and Kris sealed the bag. It was not the easiest thing to carry out but it wasn’t very heavy. Little old ladies never were.

“Clean up crew should be here soon,” Kris said after checking her phone. “We’re good to go here.”

“Send them a message about the cats in the bathroom.”

“Already on it. Animal control will be by later to pick them up.”

Together, they stepped out of their white coveralls, booties, and other PPE and stuffed it all into a trash bag that they’d throw away later. These were not fun days, but they were part of the job and Donovan was okay with that. It certainly wasn’t a job that anybody could do and he found a certain satisfaction in knowing that. Besides, he had some of the best conversations on days like this.