"Meow!"
"Woof!"
CRASH
The patrons of Santino's looked towards the kitchen curiously. Being the finest restaurant in town, it was well known for its ambience, as well as its tender bistecca alla Fiorentina.
Unfortunately for Mr. and Mrs. Santino, it would also soon be known as the site of utter chaos.
"Stop them, Conrad! Get those animals out of my restaurant!" bellowed a deep voice. More pans crashed to the floor, and the barking became louder.
In the dining room, things were still quiet and orderly, despite the strange noises emanating from the other room. "Will there be anything else, Sir and Madam?" asked a waiter calmly. Without moving a muscle, his eyes briefly flicked towards the entrance to the kitchen.
"No, that will be all, thank you," replied the gentleman, as the lady nodded in agreement.
"I better see what's going on," thought the waiter, as he crossed the dining room swiftly yet gracefully. He opened the door a crack, and as he attempted to slip in, a streak of orange shot over his foot.
"Hey, you can't -"
A split second later, a hound dog lunged at the door, sending the waiter stumbling backwards. The terrified cat made its way to a window, which was next to a small table, occupied by a young woman. Before reaching the window, it leapt on the table, without paying attention to the items on top of it.
"Help!" screeched the woman, as she watched her bowl of soup fly straight up. Now drenched, with a garnish sitting atop her head, she would have been comical, had anyone been paying attention.
The dog's eyes focused on his target, and he began baying. Seeing no escape via the window, the cat streaked across the room. It attempted to hide under the full skirt of a middle aged woman, dressed as if she were attending a debutante ball.
The hound dog didn't need his excellent nose to hunt his quarry, he was there in an instant. Unable to slow down, he plowed into the little table.
Food, table, chair, and woman went flying. She landed in a sitting position on the plush red rug. Her hoops were now well over her head, instead of around her waist and legs.
"Conrad, open the front door! Danny, chase the cat towards the door, or back in the kitchen," directed Mr. Santino, as he tried unsuccessfully to corner the dog.
The panic and destruction continued, until the staff eventually managed to open the front door, and direct the frantic cat towards it. The dog gladly followed, still determined to catch the orange feline.
"Oh, no..." Mr. Santino muttered the next morning, as he read the Fayesburge Gazette.
"What it is it, Dear?" Mrs. Santino asked, as she sipped her coffee.
"Oh, just my luck. Paul Hansford from the Gazette was having dinner at the table by the kitchen door last night, when those two animals wrecked the place," he replied grumpily.
As Mrs. Santino read over her husband's shoulder, she laughed.
"What's so funny?" he asked, confused.
"Don't you see? This is the most exciting thing that's happened in this sleepy old town in months, maybe years. Certainly the funniest. And it happened at Santino's. If my intuition is correct, we will be flooded with guests tonight. You should make sure that all hands are on deck, just in case," she advised, her eyes sparkling.
"I don't see how that fiasco will bring in customers, but alright. Your instincts are almost always right," he replied thoughtfully, as he picked up the phone.
The owner of the restaurant entered his kitchen, then taste tested a pan of sauce before picking up his phone. "Hi, Dear. You were right! I've got everyone here, and we still need help. The place is packed," Mr. Santino said into the phone, beaming.
"That's wonderful, Dear. Have you seen the evening edition of the Gazette?" she asked.
"No, I've been too busy to see anything, I'm working beside the staff tonight," he replied.
"Well, animal control caught that cat and dog. They were found together in the dumpster out back of Foodlander, sharing a string of sausages. I guess somewhere between the restaurant and the dumpster they made peace," she said, her merry laughter filling the kitchen through the loudspeaker.
"I'm glad they caught the menaces," he replied happily.
"The Gazette says that the shelter is setting up interviews to decide on the best home for them. I want to make an appointment, Dear. I think they came to us for a reason. And I also think they'd be a big attraction for Santino's," she said, emphasizing her last sentence.
"If you really want to..." Mr. Santino agreed reluctantly.
One week later:
"Honey, out of the forty-two applicants, they chose us," Mr. Santino told his wife, disbelief etched on his face.
"That's wonderful! Shall we pick them up after lunch?" she asked happily.
"I guess so," he replied, trying to sound upbeat.
"Well, they do seem a good deal more peaceful," he admitted as the two animals cuddled together in the backseat of his car.
"Of course, and just wait until you see them entertaining the guests tomorrow," Mrs. Santino replied excitedly.
"Are you sure about that? Maybe we should just keep them at home," he suggested skeptically.
"Nonsense! I'm not going to let Santino's miss out on what could be the biggest night ever," she replied, in a tone that was not to be argued with.
When the moment to open the doors and admit guests arrived, Mr. Santino gasped. "Over half the town must be out there!" he whispered, as he looked at the orderly line stretching down the block.
The two guests of honor were served at the small table by the window, where the chaos had started. They were then given a plush bed beside the main entrance, where each and every customer had the opportunity for a brief visit with the now famous pets.
Image source and edited in Canva