The Crabby Cat Caper (3 page)

It sure beat the cellar. Any day!

FIVE

The next day was Saturday.

Dee Dee's doorbell rang after breakfast.

Mister Whiskers was sunning himself. He liked to sit by the living room window.

When the doorbell rang, he sniffed the air. He could almost smell a bullfrog.

Dee Dee opened the door.

“Hi, Jason,” she said.

Jason hopped around a bit. Then he said, “I came over for my cookies.”

Dee Dee frowned. “That's not what we agreed on.”

“I don't care,” he said. “I can't wait till Monday. I want them
now
.”

“Well, too bad.” Dee Dee reached for the doorknob.

Jason stuck his foot in the door. “The deal's off. I'm taking Croaker to the carnival.”

With that, he pulled his bullfrog out of his jacket.

Mister Whiskers spied the frog. In a flash, he leaped off his window perch.

Hiss-ss! Phttt!
He was going goofy.

“Get your cat away!” Jason hollered. “I mean it!”

Just then Mrs. Winters came into the living room. “What on earth is going on?”

She saw Jason holding his bullfrog.

“Uh, Jason,” she said, “would you mind stepping outside with that uh . . . uh . . .”

“This is Croaker.” He held the bullfrog high.

Mrs. Winters waved her hands. “Please take him outside!”

By now, Mister Whiskers was having a royal fit. He spread his long claws. He even tried to follow Jason and his bullfrog outside.

But Jason backed away. “I . . . I have to go help my dad now,” he said. “'Bye, Dee Dee!”

With a great burst of speed, he rushed down the front steps.

Mister Whiskers pushed his nose against the screen door. Still fussing at Croaker.

Dee Dee caught him just in time. “Oh no you don't,” she said. “You're not going near that frog!”

The cat's eyes squinted into a sly slant.

Merrrt!
He leaped up onto his sunny sill.

Mister Whiskers sat tall. King of kitties.

With hope in his eyes, he watched Jason walk across the street. He saw him
head for the school. He knew the bullfrog was in Jason's pocket.

The sun began to warm Mister Whiskers again. He relaxed, washing his paws in the sunlight.

Soon, he began to daydream. His kitty dream was filled with sweet freedom. He could almost taste the green grass. A young, juicy field mouse . . .

Purrr.
Mister Whiskers snoozed. Running away was his best dream yet.

The hot sun poured through the bay window.

He was bigger than a mountain lion. He could outrun anything. Mice and dogs. Even a bullfrog!

Only inches to go. He was that close to

catching the ugly green frog. . . .

“Wake up, kitty,” Dee Dee called.

She went to the windowsill. Gently,
she picked him up and carried him to the kitchen.

“Time for some din-din.”

Her cat yawned and stretched.

“Oh, you poor thing. You're so tired,” Dee Dee said. She put him down. He could hardly stand up.

Then she opened the fridge. “Cold milk will perk you up.” She turned her back, still cooing to her cat.

But someone had forgotten to tug on the back screen door. It was hanging open a crack.

Just enough.

SIX

Dee Dee stood in the middle of the kitchen. She couldn't believe her eyes.

“Mister Whiskers was right here!” she explained to her mother.

“He'll come back,” Mrs. Winters said.

Dee Dee went to the back door and looked out.
He's a house cat
, she thought.
He needs to be indoors.

She turned to her mother. “Mister Whiskers has always wanted his freedom,” she said. “I can tell by the look in his eyes.”

She sniffled.

Mrs. Winters slipped her arm around Dee Dee. “Don't worry, honey.”

But Dee Dee
was
worried. She was very worried.

What if Mister Whiskers didn't want to come home?

What then?

Later, Dee Dee helped her father sweep the porch.

“I don't want to wait for Mister Whiskers to come home,” she said. “I want to go find him.”

Mr. Winters nodded with a grunt. Then he went to get the garden hose.

“I'm gonna look for him,” Dee Dee said. “As soon as I'm finished here.”

“OK with me,” Mr. Winters mumbled. He began to hose down the front porch.

Dee Dee knew her dad wasn't very worried. Maybe he was secretly glad.

“Do you miss our cat?” she asked.

“Miss who?” he said. “
Our
cat?”

“Well, you know,” Dee Dee said softly.

She wished her dad thought of Mister Whiskers that way. She wished he thought of the cat as family.

At last, Dee Dee's chores were done. She set off down the cul-de-sac.

First, she stopped at Jason Birchall's house next door.

“My cat ran off,” she told Jason's mother.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Mrs. Birchall said. “I'll tell Jason to watch for him.”

“Thanks,” said Dee Dee.

She went to Eric Hagel's house. He lived in the house next to Jason. Eric's grandpa was sitting on the porch.

“Have you seen my cat?” Dee Dee asked.

Grandpa Hagel yawned. “Can't say that I have.”

“If you see him, will you let me know?” she asked.

The old man nodded. “I'd be glad to.”

Mr. Tressler lived at the very end of Blossom Hill Lane. Dee Dee headed there next.

She rang the doorbell.

Seconds passed, and Mr. Tressler opened the door. “Hello there, little missy,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

“Just thought you'd seen my cat.”

Mr. Tressler leaned on his cane. “Run off, eh?”

Dee Dee nodded. “I think he wants his freedom.”

“Could be,” he said. “But a well-fed pet always returns.”

“Really?” she said. This was good news.

“Yes, indeedy.” Mr. Tressler jiggled his cane.

“So . . . Mister Whiskers will come home!” She scampered down the opposite
side of the cul-de-sac. It was Stacy Henry's side of the street.

She turned to go toward Stacy's house. But stopped. “Wait a minute,” she said out loud. “A well-fed pet always comes home. Mr. Tressler said so.”

So she decided not to bother looking. Her cat could come dragging home when he was ready. Probably around suppertime.

I'll go help at the carnival
, she thought.

And that's what she did.

Much later, Dee Dee poured milk into Mister Whiskers' bowl. She set it outside near the back door.

“This'll bring him back,” she said.

Her mother agreed. “Good idea.”

Dee Dee waited and watched. She waited some more.

She waited till supper.

No cat.

She waited till
after
supper.

No Mister Whiskers.

She waited till bedtime.

Nothing.

She tiptoed downstairs after her mother had tucked her in.

Still no sign of her cat.

Dee Dee unhooked the back screen door. She let it hang open. Just enough.