21 2 - THAT SINKING FEELING
“We’re almost there,” I said to the ball of fur perched on my shoulder and meowing loudly into my ear. Scooter turned into the parking lot of the Palm Tree Marina and pulled into a shady spot. I clipped Mrs. Moto’s leash onto her harness, opened the car door, and set her gently on the ground. She ran toward the path that led down to the marina, pulling me along with her. You might not think a cat could drag a human behind them, but they’re surprisingly strong when single-mindedly focused on their destination or chasing a lizard.
“She’s a real marina cat, isn’t she?” Scooter asked. “She loves poking around the docks, jumping on boats, chasing seagulls, and begging for treats from the tourists.” He nudged me. “I think she’d vote for selling the cottage and mov
