Altonio + cocktail hour

Altonio finds a new lieutenant

On Sunday morning, Vabeh's watch chirped earlier than usual. Altonio huddled in the cape cage.

"Today is the day. Today is Cocktail Hour all day. So happy to meet him, so happy to greet him," Vabeh sang as she threw the covers back and bounded out of the room, not even stopping to grab her morning cape or to pet Altonio. 

In Vabeh's wake, the slightly dank smell of her feverish anticipation mixed with the freshness of her recently laundered sheets, drifted toward Altonio who planned to sleep until Cocktail Hour, the dog arrived. She was dreaming of fresh salmon with a touch of wasabi on a chilled dish when a clatter of pans followed by a shriek startled her awake. From her tangle of capes, she listened to the chaos of Vabeh trying to assist in the pancake making and knew it wouldn't be long before Cocktail Hour arrived. She began grooming herself in preparation. 

Cocktail Hour tried to keep his gait steady as they approached the Brownstone. This was his first trip to Brooklyn. Roberto pointed to where he used to live Before. Cocktail Hour only knew snippets about Before and only some from Roberto. Many of the snippets came from Jeff when Roberto and his dad weren't home. Jeff would sit on the hard leather designer couch with Cocktail Hour crouched at his feet, approximating a faithful companion the best way he knew how. Jeff spoke of a time when Roberto lived with a mom and a dad as if it was a time best left to the memories of someone else. Jeff worried about Roberto and Roberto's dad wanting to go back to that time. 

A pigeon with a busted wing stood on the front stoop of the Brownstone, munching on a fresh bit of bagel. Cocktail Hour's mouth began to water. The pigeon cooed sharply and stood its ground. Roberto whispered, "hi BABST" and reached into his pocket and laid a piece of day old bacon at the pigeon's talons. The men didn't notice, they were so wrapped up in each other and the question of who would juggle the offerings of lox, capers and bagels and who would open the door. 

As they made their way inside, Cocktail Hour admired the airy stairwell with its wide staircase. In Chelsea, they had an elevator, which to him was less desirable. Still, he wished for Monday when nothing more would be expected of him than lounging in Jeff's sun drenched office while Jeff typed away. But Sunday persisted. A little girl, he guessed it was Vabeh, opened the residence door with a grin.

"He's cuter than the dog park pictures on your gram! Mr. Cocktail Hour, welcome to you. So happy to meet you. So happy to greet you..." Cocktail Hour wasn't sure what to do. No one moved as Vabeh sang two more verses and stroked his coat. More roughly than Jeff and Roberto's dad, but more gently than Roberto. By the third verse, something to do with frogs going for jogs with hogs, he found himself in a state of bliss. This was even better than water time with his humans.

As the song ended, a woman slightly taller than Jeff but thinner by at least three jeans sizes, joined them in the hallway. She smelled of Halston perfume. Thanks to his breeder, he had an encyclopedic knowledge of classic scents from the 80s.

"Sweetie, Mom D needs a hand with the sparkle juice mixing. Why don't you and Roberto go help her out."

"Okay. Mom, isn't Cocktail Hour the cutest dog?"

Vabeh and Roberto left the adults to exchange hugs and overpriced bagels, lox and capers. Morgan stooped down to pet Cocktail Hour.

"He's a good looking dog, that's for sure. But from you two I'd expect no less. I'm sure you're turning heads on 10th Avenue."

Cocktail Hour's bliss melted into fear again as he sniffed the cuffs of her jeans. The smell of cat was mixed in with her perfume. He looked around and saw the litter box hiding under the bench. 

"We're happy he's here. Roberto enjoys him and it's the closest to a little brother we're giving him. Great interview with Vabeh in Morning Muesli. We read it on our way over." 

"Thanks. Let's get you guys inside. Can I help take anything?"

"We're good. Do we need to keep him on leash or anything? Wouldn't want to upset the grand dame," Jeff said.

"No need. He's tiny enough. I actually haven't seen Altonio this morning. Devon's making pancakes with bacon crumble so I'm sure she'll make an appearance soon."

The grand dame. This was worse than he thought. With a male cat he may have stood a chance, but with a female cat the chances were slim. As they entered the apartment, his tail failed him and dropped between his legs. 

Altonio listened closely as the footsteps entered the apartment. Cocktail Hour must have had a fresh pawdicure as he wasn't clattering along like Lumpsum, Devon’s parents’ dog, used to. No, he sounded more like a cat. And a stealthy one at that. His smell was unmistakably dog though. No amount of peppermint-scented tail styling product could mask that. 

Vabeh hadn't brought Roberto in to say hello like she usually did. Altonio pretended it was because of urgent kitchen duties even when she heard Vabeh cooing over how adorable Cocktail Hour was. He wouldn't be so adorable when Devon put the bacon on the griddle. He'd lunge onto the counter and get put into Time Out in the studio. That's when Altonio would make her move. 

Things didn't go exactly as planned.

The bacon sizzled on the griddle as Vabeh and Roberto took turns mixing the pancake batter. Morgan poured mimosas for Jeff and Roberto's dad. In Vabeh's room, Altonio's mouth started to water. She willed herself to wait. It would be a disgrace to find her self-restraint rivaled by a dog. Speaking of, what was Cocktail Hour doing? Devon was at least a minute into frying. Altonio wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Is something wrong with Cocktail Hour?" Vabeh asked.

"I think he's okay, why do you ask?" Jeff peered across the table and regarded Cocktail Hour who was sitting next to Roberto.

"He's not asking for bacon. Maybe he likes it crunchy. I like it between crunchy and blackened. Other Mom leaves mine on longer than the first pancake stays on the griddle. That's the grease cake. It cleans up the mess so we don't have to," Vabeh explained.

"We don't have to worry about sharing with Cocktail Hour. We keep him vegetarian for his waistline," Jeff said.

Altonio flicked her tail from side to side. A vegetarian? How had Morty and BABST missed that? Altonio missed Gabe, her field roach who’d met an untimely end during a Take Your Children to Work mission. Gabe would have managed to get her some bacon while she considered her options. A studio interrogation was still the best plan, but how was she going to get Cocktail Hour down there without the time out?

And then it hit her. Spring 2009. It had been one of her wilder maneuvers. A young kitten was best suited to pull it off, but she'd have to take her chances. If he turned out to be trustworthy, Cocktail Hour could be the perfect addition to her staff, especially since he didn't seem easily bribed by food. She already spent too much time worrying about her staff being turned by rival cats with the promises of fried food on Flatbush. 

Altonio purred a few times and flexed her claws. Her stomach was slung lower to the ground than it had in 2009, but she'd pull this off. She had to. She sauntered into the hallway and made her way into the kitchen. She rubbed herself vigorously against Vabeh's leg as Vabeh sat on the floor watching Cocktail Hour eat. 

Altonio caught Cocktail Hour's gaze as he delicately picked at a piece of broccoli with a paw before putting it in his mouth. He respectfully averted his eyes as she moved closer to his water dish. In plain view of all of the humans and Cocktail Hour, Altonio closed her eyes, squatted and then streaked out of the kitchen and down the stairs to the studio. 

Before the humans could get past the sensory horror of Altonio relieving herself in Cocktail Hour's water dish, the dog guest of honor trotted toward the studio. The gauntlet had been thrown and he had no choice but to answer.

Altonio darted into the studio, shame hardening into resolve. She could sense Cocktail Hour was close behind. She didn't know how much time she'd have alone with him before the humans came looking for her. She scratched the center of her cardboard scratching pad before settling herself down and nuzzled her head in her catnip pillow to at once soothe and rouse herself.

Cocktail Hour peeked his head in the studio before crossing the threshold. The sunlight flooding the room made it difficult to see Altonio crouching in the corner. But her scent was power incarnate. His tail was the limpest it had been since he arrived in New York. Altonio, even with her missing fang and portly build, had a fierceness about her that made Chas the golden retriever who bullied him at the dog park look like a harmless baby human.

Altonio hissed and Cocktail Hour drew closer. BABST hovered outside and narrated the scene for Morty who was relegated to crouching behind the composting bin in the alley.

"Looks like Altonio's going to teach this poser a lesson," BABST warbled as Morty gnawed on a marbled beef rib. Morty wished BABST would shut up and let him chew the fat in peace. Working on Sundays made him nervous - too many drunk brunch people lurching and spewing their pretension when all he wanted was to be in Queens playing king of the garbage can with his grandrats.

Back in the studio, Cocktail Hour hoped Altonio would get it over with but Altonio wasn't moving off of her scratcher. BABST pecked his beak three times against the window, trying to get her attention. And still Altonio didn't move. Cocktail Hour stood still. It was Altonio's move and she was choosing not to make one. 

Cocktail Hour tentatively barked. It came out deeper and louder than he'd hoped. To compensate, he quickly laid down on his back and locked eyes loosely, but not confrontationally, with Altonio. She nodded, granting permission for him to continue and quickly as time was drawing to a close.

It all came rushing out in a low whimper. The dog park worries, water time with the humans, how unfortunate his name was when combined with his Chelsea address, the L.L. Bean collar and metrosexual tail product and then, and this was what changed the course of events, he spoke of Roberto and their private time at night where both human and dog shed quiet tears for the lives they'd had Before. Cocktail Hour finished whimpering, but remained on his back, waiting for Altonio to deliberate. BABST flew back down to Morty. 

Footsteps on the stairwell.

It was time.

Altonio purred and licked her right paw and then her left. Cocktail Hour stayed on his back, willing his vegetable medley to stay down. It had taken Altonio's too-short time with Gabe and the subsequent sessions with Pettigrew, her psychotherapist, to get to this moment. Cocktail Hour wasn't like BABST and Morty. He wasn't trying to kiss her haunches. He was a dog trying to do his best by his human. Altonio respected that. Her grooming over, she tapped out a message on the studio floor. Cocktail Hour listened closely and then again, certain he wasn't hearing correctly. It couldn't be, could it?

The studio door slid open as Vabeh and Roberto crept in. "Altonio's probably hiding under Mom Devon's custom compost bin. That's where she keeps shellacky veggies for her paintings. We can't bother Altonio until she comes to us, but let me show you what I'm working on. Cat on Tiptoe speaks to the frustration of a cat in search of roasted chicken in a messy fridge," 

Vabeh led Roberto over to her easel and that's when they saw Cocktail Hour stretched out next to Altonio, her paw resting gently on top of his head as she found the empty space created by Gabe's absence finally filled.

2020 all rights reserved.