Karen's Kittens, Page 2

  “Congratulations, Growly,” I whispered. “You did a good job.”

  Birth Announcements

  “Time for breakfast, everyone,” said Nannie.

  “Good idea,” said Sam. “Watching these kittens eat is making me hungry.”

  Andrew and I stayed behind after everyone else left. Who cared about eating when you could watch newborn kittens?

  “Andrew, listen!” I whispered.

  The kittens were making little squeaking noises. They hardly sounded like cats at all.

  “Growly’s a good mommy,” said Andrew.

  “She sure is,” I said. The kittens were finished eating. They were crawling all over Growly. She was very patient with them.

  Guess what. The kittens could not see yet. Their eyes had not opened. They were stepping on each other’s tails and paws and ears and eyes. They looked so funny!

  Now I will tell you what the kittens looked like.

  Two were mostly gray. But one had a white tip on his tail, and the other had two white paws.

  One kitten was all black. And the other two were gray tiger-striped like Growly. I could tell them apart because one had a black diamond on her forehead.

  We learned in school that kittens’ colors change as they get older. (For a while, I had wondered if Goosie’s and Moosie’s colors would change. But they never did.)

  “Whoa! Look at that,” I said. The black kitten had tumbled off Growly’s back. I wondered if I should make sure he was all right. But Growly was taking care of him. She was licking him. I heard him squeak so I knew he was okay.

  “Let’s go see if there is any breakfast left,” I said to my brother.

  “I hope there is,” said Andrew. “I’m hungry.”

  On the way back to the house, I had an idea. It was not just any old idea. It was a great idea!

  When babies are born, parents usually send out birth announcements. But I could see that Growly was way too busy to do it herself. So I would do it for her.

  While I ate breakfast, I thought about what the announcements should say. By the time I was finished, I had planned everything.

  I went to my room and got busy. I picked out a piece of blue construction paper. On the top I drew six cats faces — five little ones and one big one.

  In the center, I drew a heart. Inside it, I wrote with magic marker:

  I spent the rest of the morning writing birth announcements. When I finished I was going to deliver them to my family and friends.

  It was a lot of work. But it was worth it. Babies are special. All kinds of babies. The world needed to know that Growly’s had arrived.

  Babies

  Two weeks later, Andrew and I were back at the big house. Of course, I had called Kristy almost every night to find out how the kittens were doing.

  When we arrived on Friday, everyone came to greet us, as usual.

  “Hi, everybody! Hi, hi, hi!” I cried. Then I ran to the toolshed to see the kittens. They were gigundoly cute.

  On Saturday morning, I waited in the front yard for Hannie and Melody. I could see them both leaving their houses at the same time.

  “Hi, Karen!” called Hannie.

  “Hi,” said Melody. “Could we see the kittens?”

  “Sure!” I replied. I felt like I was the proud mother.

  “Ooh, look at them!” cried Hannie, when we reached the shed.

  “They are adorable!” said Melody.

  They really were. They looked more like the TV kittens now. Their legs were still very wobbly. But at least their eyes were open.

  “You should have seen them the day they were born. They were sweet, but kind of a mess,” I said. “They could not even see because their eyes were closed. Kristy told me they opened their eyes for the first time Thursday morning.”

  “Can we pet them?” asked Hannie.

  I nodded. “Daddy says it is okay to pet them now. We just have to be very careful when we pick them up.”

  “I will be careful,” said Melody.

  Gently she picked up one of the gray kittens. Hannie picked up the black one. I petted the other three so they would not feel left out.

  Growly was watching us, but she did not seem to mind. I think she knew we were being careful.

  “I know what we should play,” said Melody, when she put her kitten down. “Let’s play house and pretend the kittens are our babies.”

  “We will need some things from my room,” I said. “Follow me.”

  We went upstairs, then raced back to the toolshed. We brought combs and doll clothes and a little cradle that rocked.

  “My, my,” said Hannie. “Having quintuplets is hard work.”

  “Yes, but look at our five lovely children,” I said. I gently combed one of the tiger kittens.

  “I wonder how this bonnet will look on her,” said Melody. She tied the bonnet on the black kitten’s head. It was a tiny pink doll bonnet. The kitten did not seem to mind it one bit.

  “Put her in the cradle!” I said.

  Melody carefully placed the kitten in the cradle. But as soon as she began to rock it, Growly got upset.

  “A-rowwwl,” she warned.

  We took the kitten back out and put her with her brothers and sisters. They were all starting to look a little sleepy.

  “It is time for our babies to take a nap,” I said.

  We agreed on a lullaby to sing them. It went like this:

  Night, night, sleep tight,

  We’ll see you when the sun shines bright.

  Our babies were soon asleep. Hannie, Melody, and I tiptoed quietly out of the shed.

  Names

  “Please, please, puh-lease!” I begged. “Can’t I keep one of the kittens? Just one?”

  Hannie and Melody had gone home. When I told them that Daddy and Elizabeth said I could not have a kitten, they said I should try one more time. I decided they were right.

  But Daddy said, “I am sorry, Karen. The answer is still no.”

  “We have more than enough people and pets at this house,” said Elizabeth.

  “I know,” I said. “Ten people, counting Andrew and me, and four pets.”

  “That’s right, honey,” said Daddy. “Don’t you think that is enough for now?”

  “I guess,” I replied. “But, hey! At the little house there are only four people, counting me and Andrew, and three pets. Can I call Mommy?”

  “All right,” said Daddy. “See what Mommy says.”

  I picked up the phone and dialed Mommy’s number.

  “Hi, Mommy!” I said. “You know Growly and her kittens? Well, they will be needing homes soon. Can I have a kitten of my very own at the little house?” I asked.

  Mommy said I could not have one. She thought that three pets were plenty for the little house.

  I must have looked very gloomy when I hung up the phone, because Elizabeth said, “I am sorry you cannot have a kitten. But there is something important you can do for all of them. You can find them homes. They cannot leave Growly for at least four more weeks, but after that they will need good homes and people who will love them.”

  Elizabeth was right. Even if I could not have one of the kittens myself, I still wanted to take good care of them. That was an important job. And if I was going to do it well, I had to get started right away.

  “I’ll do it!” I said to Daddy and Elizabeth. “I will find those kittens the best homes in the state of Connecticut.”

  I needed a plan of action. I went upstairs to think. The first thing I decided was that I could not just call them “the kittens.” That was not special enough. They needed names. I ran back downstairs and out to the toolshed to study them.

  I could not tell which were boys and which were girls. I decided to guess. If their owners needed to, they could change the names later.

  The black kitten was awfully slow. In fact, he was pokey.

  “That will be your name,” I said. “Pokey.”

  Next came the gray kitten with white on the tip of his tail. Th
at was easy.

  “Your name is Tippy,” I said.

  Then came the gray kitten with the two white paws. She was always bouncing around. I decided she needed a happy name. Like Rosie.

  “Hi, Rosie,” I said.

  I needed two more names. One for the tiger-striped cat with the black diamond on her forehead. I thought about calling her diamond. But that did not sound right to me. I needed another jewel.

  “I know! I will call you Ruby,” I told her.

  I thought the name Bob sounded good with Ruby, so that is what I named the other tiger-striped cat.

  There. Five cats. Five names. It was time to take attendance.

  “When I call your name raise your paw,” I said. “Pokey! Tippy! Rosie! Ruby! Bob! You are all here. Very good,” I said.

  The first part of my job was done.

  Free Kittens!

  “Happy birthday, dear kittens!” I sang. “Happy birthday to you!”

  It was a big-house Saturday. The kittens were eight weeks old. And boy were they cute!

  They were bigger, fatter, and fluffier than before. And they played practically every minute. They were definitely as cute as the kittens on TV commercials.

  “Remember to keep the shed closed when we are not around, Karen. I had the doors fixed so Growly and her kittens cannot wander off,” said Daddy.

  “I will remember,” I replied.

  Even if Daddy did not want a kitten, he sure did worry about them a lot.

  “Now that the kittens are eight weeks old, they are ready to leave their mother,” said Elizabeth.

  “I know,” I said. “I am going to find good homes for every one of them. I am going to start right now.”

  I went to my room to make a sign. First I drew a picture of the five kittens. Then I wrote in big red letters:

  I took my sign and a roll of tape downstairs. Lucky for me, Charlie was in the kitchen.

  “Charlie, would you help me? I need to take a chair and a table outside. I have an important job to do,” I said.

  “I can see,” said Charlie, studying my sign. “That looks great. I’ll bring out the old card table. You can carry the chair.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Charlie set up the table. I taped my sign to the front. Then I went to the shed to get the kittens.

  A big cardboard box was in the shed. I piled Pokey, Tippy, Rosie, Ruby, and Bob inside. Growly did not look too happy.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “But I promise to find good homes for them.”

  I walked very, very carefully back to the table. I did not want to trip like I had done with the food and water.

  “We made it!” I said when I reached the table. I set the carton of kittens on it. I kissed each one in case I did not get a chance to say good-bye later.

  Then I sat back and waited. And waited. And waited.

  Where is Rosie?

  “Oooh! This one is so cute!” said Maria Kilbourne. (Maria is eight. She lives next door to Melody.)

  “Lookit! Lookit what this one can do!” said Linny Papadakis. (Linny is Hannie’s older brother. He is eight, too.)

  A big crowd of kids was standing around the front yard. They had all come to see the kittens. I felt gigundoly important.

  “Do you think we could take this one home?” said Maria. She was holding Pokey up to her big sister, Shannon.

  “He is awfully sweet,” said Shannon. “But you know Daddy is allergic to cats.”

  “Look at that gray one! He just did a somersault!” said Melody’s brother, Bill.

  “That one is Tippy,” I said. “Does anyone want to take Tippy home?”

  “I would, but my mommy won’t let me,” said a girl I had never seen before. “Mommy says litter boxes are smelly.”

  Claudia Kishi, Kristy’s friend, was holding Ruby and petting her. “You are precious,” she said. “And look, you have a diamond on your forehead. That makes you very special.”

  “Hey, be careful!” I called to the boy who was holding Bob. “I don’t think he likes being up so high.”

  Everyone loved the kittens. But no one wanted to take one home. I knew Hannie could not take one because she already had Pat the Cat. And her mommy and daddy would not let her have another. Melody said her family used to have a cat, but it was really old and died the year before. She was not sure if her parents wanted another yet.

  “Doesn’t anyone want to take a kitten home?” I asked. No one answered.

  “Can we put these two on the ground?” asked Linny. “We want to see them race.”

  “No way!” I said. “They could run away.”

  I was starting to get nervous. All the kittens were out of the box. I was having trouble keeping track of them. I decided it was time to put them back.

  “Okay, everyone!” I called. “The kittens have to go back in the box now. I hear their mother calling them.”

  Everyone started handing me kittens. I put Pokey back in the box. Then Ruby. Then Bob. Then Tippy.

  I counted the kittens. Four. There were supposed to be five. Where was Rosie?

  “Who still has a kitten?” I asked. “I am supposed to have one more kitten.”

  The kids looked at each other.

  “I put mine back,” said a girl.

  “Me, too,” said another.

  “Somebody must have a kitten!” I cried. But no one did. I felt scared.

  “Everyone has to go home now,” I called. “Except for Hannie and Melody.”

  When just the three of us were left, I said, “Come on! We have to find Rosie!”

  Karen’s Search

  “You start looking for Rosie. I will take the other kittens back to Growly,” I said to Hannie and Melody.

  When I reached the shed, I placed the kittens next to Growly. I made sure the windows were open a crack, so they would have some fresh air. And I made sure the doors were shut tight when I left.

  “Sorry about Rosie!” I called to Growly as I raced toward the front yard. “I will not come back until I have found her. That is a promise.”

  I found Melody and Hannie searching under the bushes. They were calling, “Ro-zeee! Ro-zeee!”

  “Any clues?” I asked.

  “Nothing yet,” said Hannie. “But don’t worry, we will find her.”

  While they searched the bushes, I looked up in our tree. I remembered how on my worst day ever, Boo-Boo got stuck up there. I climbed up to get him even though I had a broken wrist.

  If I did not find Rosie, then this would be the worst day of my life.

  I decided to check the mailbox. Maybe she got in there somehow. But it was empty.

  “Ro-zee! Ro-zee!” I heard Hannie calling down the street.

  She could be anywhere by now, I thought. Maybe a wild animal got her. A raccoon! Maybe she tried to cross the street and did not look both ways! What if I never saw Rosie again?

  Then I remembered something. The lid was off the garbage can in the backyard. Maybe Rosie jumped in and could not get out.

  I looked inside the garbage can. But it was empty.

  I decided to check on the four other kittens. I peeked in the window of the shed. Pokey, Tippy, Ruby, and Bob were curled up against Growly. I wondered if they missed Rosie. I sure did.

  Suddenly Hannie was standing next to me. She was out of breath. “I … ran … all the way … down the street, Karen. But I couldn’t find her.”

  “And I looked under all the cars on the street,” said Melody. “Where should we look next?”

  I glanced around the yard. Everything was still as could be. Until the lilac bush moved.

  “Look! Over there! In the garden,” I said.

  Hannie and Melody looked. Everything was still again. But not for long. Two seconds later, Rosie popped out! She jumped in the air trying to catch a fly.

  “Ro-zeeeee!” we all shouted together.

  I scooped Rosie up in my arms.

  “Oh, Rosie, we thought you were gone forever!” cried Melody.

  “We m
issed you so much!” said Hannie.

  “Don’t you ever do that again,” I scolded.

  I do not think Rosie knew what was going on. But I bet she could tell we were happy to see her.

  I took Rosie straight back to Growly. I was not going to take those kittens out ever again. There had to be a better way to find homes for them. It was time for a new plan.

  A Home For Ruby

  “Look what I’ve got!” I said, racing into my classroom Monday morning. Ms. Colman was not there yet, but lots of kids were.

  I waved five pictures in the air. They were pictures I took of the kittens at the big house. I was putting my new home-finding plan into action.

  I did not want to take the kittens out where they might run off or get lost. And I knew that people needed to see what the kittens looked like. So yesterday, before Mommy came to pick up Andrew and me, I borrowed Daddy’s camera and took the pictures.

  “Smile, Tippy,” I had said. I wrote Tippy’s name on the back of the picture. I took two pictures of each kitten and picked the best ones to bring to school.

  Now everyone was crowding around me to see them.

  “You will all get a turn,” I said, just the way Ms. Colman did.

  “Oooh! They are so cute! Especially the little black one,” said Nancy. I had told her about the kittens, but she had not seen them yet.

  Even Pamela Harding — my sometimes enemy — was impressed.

  “All right,” I said, “who wants a kitten?”

  “I do,” said Ricky Torres.

  Oh good, I thought. If Ricky Torres takes a kitten, it will be mine too — well, sort of. That is because Ricky is my pretend husband.

  “Which kitten do you want?” I asked.

  “I would like them all,” said Ricky. “But my parents won’t let me have a pet.”

  “Then why did you say you wanted one?” I asked.

  “Because I do want one. I just cannot have one,” said Ricky.

  Bobby Gianelli, Ricky’s best friend, thought Ricky was being funny. I thought Ricky was being dumb.

  “Okay, then, who can have a kitten?” I asked. (I was not going to make the same mistake twice.)