Merlin by Cynthia Lord

Author:Cynthia Lord
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2015-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

For the next few days, I thought hard about what fun toy to make for Merlin at Shelter Pet Squad. The shelter already had some toys.

There were lots of balls.

Merlin had plenty of small stuffed animals.

He had little squeaky toys.

I read through my notes, looking for ideas: Ferrets like lots of toys to play with. They like balls, tubes and tunnels, little animals (stuffed, not real), and blanket piles to climb in. Ferrets love to dig! So watch out for your plants! Ferrets like tub toys, too! Ferrets enjoy boxes. They also love bags, rattles, and chasing things — or other ferrets.

A bin of dirt to dig in would be too messy.

I couldn’t think of any bath toys to make.

Ferrets enjoy boxes. I thought about that photo I’d seen of a ferret peeking out of a box. Maybe we could make some cardboard-box houses for Merlin? We could cut doors and windows for him to climb in and out. Maybe there could be a paper-towel-tube chimney at the top! Then he’d have both a box and a tunnel — two things that ferrets like!

If we each made him a house, then Ms. Flores and Ms. Kim could put out a different one every day. That way, he wouldn’t get bored with the same one all the time. And if he chewed on them, it wouldn’t matter, because they were just boxes.

“I need five medium-size boxes,” I said to Mom and Dad that night at supper. “One for each kid in Shelter Pet Squad.”

“I think I can bring some home from work,” Dad said. “About how big do you need?”

“Ferret size!” I said, holding my hands up to show him.

On Saturday, I was so excited to show the kids my idea that I hurried through the shelter parking lot with two boxes stacked in my arms. I could barely see over them! Mom helped by carrying the rest of the boxes and a bunch of paper-towel tubes.

“Watch out, Suzannah,” she said. “There’s something on the doorstep.”

On the front step of the shelter was a little plastic bag of water knotted at the top. Inside was —

“A goldfish!” I put the boxes beside the door so I could pick up the plastic bag. The orange fish wiggled, opening and closing her mouth against the side of the bag. I looked around, but there wasn’t anyone else in the parking lot. There wasn’t a note, either. Just a fish.

I left my boxes behind and burst through the front door, holding the bag with the fish inside. “Ms. Flores! Someone left a goldfish on the front steps!”

“What? Oh, dear!” she said, coming around the front counter. “Poor little thing.”

“There wasn’t even a note!” I said. “We don’t know who left her. Or why. Or how old she is. We don’t even know her name. How could anyone do that?”

“Whoever left her should have come in or left us some information.” Ms. Flores took the bag from me. “But I’m glad they brought her to us and didn’t let her go in a pond or stream.

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