A Cat Tale


Hayden and his fellow cats find their way to paradise: TALULA TUPPERMAN’S HOME FOR DISTRESSED FELINES.  But Rodney and Stanley, cat kidnappers, are on their trail, and suddenly cats begin to vanish.  Can Hayden and his troop put a stop to these mysterious disappearances before they mysteriously vanish, too?

“…Shut up and enjoy the evening. Look,” said Stanley.


“There on the hill. Over there.”

“What hill? This place is nothing but hills.”

“There. There. Those two tiny pairs of lights.”

The light from the full moon lit Tiger’s and Pouncie’s eyes. They watched the shack from the highest pile of debris they could find. They’d followed the two dump-men this far, determined not to lose them. The two men had come to the barn after dark, as Pouncie predicted, and with their expert cat vision, the two cats followed the men along the road and through the dump to the shack. Now, they lay down, their chins on their paws, and watched the men.

“Oh, yeah,” Rodney said, getting to his feet. “I see.”

“Eyes,” Stanley said.

Rodney turned to his friend. “You’s what?” He sat back down and stared at him.

“I’m sorry?”

Rodney looked puzzled. “Why? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything? I mean what do you mean?”

“What do you mean what do I mean? What do you mean? You’re not making sense, Stanley.”

“I’m making sense? You’re not hearing sense. When I said I’m sorry, I didn’t mean I’m sorry for anything I did. I mean I don’t know what you mean?”

“You don’t have to yell.” Rodney shook his head. “You’re always yelling.”

“I have good reason to yell when your brain goes bling blang blung.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t apologize, pay attention.”

“I’m not apologizing for anything I did. I mean I don’t know what you mean—bling blang blung?”

“Rodney, Rodney, Rodney. What are you talking about? What were we talking about?”

“You said I’s.”

“Yes, there on the hill, eyes.”

“There on the hill you’s what?”

“What do you mean, there on the hill you’s what?”

“You’re shouting again. You can’t say there on the hill I’s. You gotta say there on the hill I’s something. Like I’s hungry. I’s sleepy.”

“I’s hungry? I’s sleepy? That’s ridiculous and not even good English. And I didn’t say ‘I’s,’” Stanley cried, poking his chest with the fingers of his right hand. “I said ‘eyes,’” making wide eyes at his friend.


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