The Case of the Very Bad Cat (The Kitten Files Book 4) by Perry Kirkpatrick

Author:Perry Kirkpatrick [Kirkpatrick, Perry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Toward Home Press
Published: 2018-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

Eight

Well, that certainly wasn’t what I was expecting to hear. He wasn't trying to frame me after all? What did hunting have to do with adoption? I tried to connect the dots in my mind, but failed.

“I’m sorry,” I said, swiping one of the fish crackers and crunching it thoughtfully, “I’m not quite following. I mean, that’s great to want a family to adopt you for Christmas. I did the same sort of thing earlier this year. But... I’m not understanding how mice fit into your plan.”

Spitz cocked his head and blinked slowly as if this was hard to comprehend. “Ya don't?”

“Nooo...” I said. I had a nagging feeling this might be a normal cat thing I missed out on being raised in a lab. Apparently there was something special about mice that I wasn't getting.

Spitz looked at me curiously before scrubbing a paw across his face and explaining. “Ya gotta prove yourself. That you’re the best hunter in town—that ya can help take care of the family. Regularly. Every night I’ve brought them something even though it’s winter. No way they won't be impressed by that.”

I nodded, understanding starting to dawn.

“Then they adopt you.” Spitz sat up straight and curled his crooked tail around his paws.

I scratched behind my ear. “Spitz, have you ever been adopted before? Ever had a family?”

“No.”

“Well... um...” I had to set him straight about how to impress humans. He was just going to keep getting me blamed for the dead rodents on the Chandlers’ doorstep. And there was no way he was getting them to adopt him that way. Not by Christmas. Not ever.

“Listen, can I give you some advice?”

Spitz sat still as a statue and regarded me with long, slow blinks. I couldn’t tell if he was interested in what I had to say or not.

“Human families don’t actually eat mice, you know.”

He blinked slowly once more, and I paused to see if he’d respond. When a long moment stretched on, I prepared to continue.

“Yeah, you may actually be right about that,” he said in a low voice. “I can't say I've ever seen a person eating a mouse.” He began to look worried.

“I don’t know if you’ve stuck around to see what Mrs. Chandler thinks of the gifts you’ve been leaving, but I’ve heard all about it. She’s really, really not happy about dead mice on the doorstep, Spitz.”

I decided not to mention the fact that she thought I was leaving the critters. I didn't want him to think I was his competition again.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

He studied the ground, his ears drooping.

“When people are looking for a cat to adopt, they care about stuff like—” I began, but he cut me off, muttering.

“I was right. Shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Right about what?” I asked, unsure what to think.

“Eh...” he said, getting to his feet and arching back in a lazy stretch. “Cats. We’re meant to be loners. Independent. I don't actually need nobody—and ain't nobody needs me. Just a silly Christmas wish.”

“Oh. Spitz. I didn’t mean that at all,” I said in dismay.

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