That Furball Puppy and Me Read online

  The Two Rats Glared at Me.

  My stomach did a flip-flop. I backed up slowly toward the door. Both rats inched forward. They moved apart—one coming toward me from my right side, the other from my left. I felt my tail fuzz. It sprang straight up behind me, almost as big around as the rest of me was.

  They stopped and stared. Not even their whiskers twitched. Then they moved again, quicker this time. Farther apart. I felt a shiver as I suddenly realized they were trying to surround me. They were trying to block my escape from the big, dark barn.

  Without taking my eyes from them, I backed up.

  “Now!” Nora hissed in her ratty voice. “Let’s get him!”

  Books by Bill Wallace

  Red Dog

  Trapped in Death Cave

  Available from ARCHWAY Paperbacks

  The Backward Bird Dog

  Beauty

  The Biggest Klutz in Fifth Grade

  Blackwater Swamp

  Buffalo Gal

  The Christmas Spurs

  Danger in Quicksand Swamp

  Danger on Panther Peak (Original title: Shadow on the Snow)

  A Dog Called Kitty

  Eye of the Great Bear

  Ferret in the Bedroom, Lizards in the Fridge

  The Final Freedom

  Journey into Terror

  Never Say Quit

  Snot Stew

  Totally Disgusting!

  True Friends

  Upchuck and the Rotten Willy

  Upchuck and the Rotten Willy: The Great Escape

  Upchuck and the Rotten Willy: Running Wild

  Watchdog and the Coyotes

  Available from MINSTREL Books

  Books by Carol Wallace and Bill Wallace

  The Flying Flea, Callie, and Me

  That Furball Puppy and Me

  Chomps, Flea, and Gray Cat (That’s Me!)

  Available from MINSTREL Books

  Books by Nikki Wallace

  Stubby and the Puppy Pack

  Available from MINSTREL Books

  For orders other than by individual consumers, Pocket Books grants a discount on the purchase of 10 or more copies of single titles for special markets or premium use. For further details, please write to the Vice President of Special Markets, Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, 9th Floor, New York, NY 10020-1586.

  For information on how individual consumers can place orders, please write to Mail Order Department, Simon & Schuster, Inc., 100 Front Street, Riverside, NJ 08075.

  The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book.”

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  A Minstrel Book published by

  POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  Text copyright © 1999 by Bill Wallace and Carol Wallace

  Illustrations copyright © 1999 by Jason Wolff

  Originally published in hardcover in 1999 by Minstrel Books

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book of portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  ISBN: 0-7434-1029-7

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7434-1029-8

  eISBN-13: 978-1-4391-1669-2

  First Minstrel Books mass market paperback printing December 2000

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3

  A MINSTREL BOOK and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  Cover art by David Slonim

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  To Kacey and Justin, Nikki and Jon-Ed, Laurie and Kevin, Bethany and Kristine

  CHAPTER 1

  Ring … Ring.”

  The loud, shrill noise made my ears twitch.

  “Ring … Ring.”

  The sound came from the ringy-box on the wall. It was a strange, little white box that hung in the kitchen. Every time it said, “Ring … Ring,” the Mama would pick it up and start talking to herself.

  Sure enough …

  Mama left the dishes she was working on in the sink and wiped her hands on the towel. She picked up the little ringy-box and held it against the side of her head.

  “Hello,” she said to herself. Suddenly a smile crept across her face. “Well, hi.” Her tone was light and happy. “It’s good to hear your voice, too.” Her eyes got big. “Really? You’re going to have that much time off at Christmas? How wonderful! Hang on a second.” Cupping a hand to the side of her mouth, she turned toward the living room. “Owen, get the other phone. It’s the kids!”

  The smile on Mama’s face stretched from one ear to the other. She grinned and giggled. She leaned against the wall. She turned in circles and got the cord on the ringy-box all wrapped around herself, but Mama never seemed to notice. She just kept talking to herself with the ringy-box against her ear. The more she talked to herself, the more happy and excited she seemed to get.

  People were really hard to understand.

  I mean … well … I guess I talked to myself sometimes, too. I didn’t get all excited about it. I didn’t meow and talk out loud, and I didn’t go flittering all over the house. Mostly, I just told myself that I wasn’t really afraid of the big rats that lived in the barn. I told myself that I was getting stronger and braver each day. Soon I wouldn’t be scared of them. They would be scared of me!

  That’s what Callie told me to do. Callie was the old cat who was already here when I came to live with my new family. She was wise and brave. She knew a whole lot more than I did. Callie told me to keep telling myself how brave and strong I was, and that sooner or later I would believe it. I did. Only I still didn’t believe—not really.

  Callie also told me that my friend Flea would come back before I knew it. Each day I climbed onto the windowsill in the playroom. The Mama had a feeder that hung from a limb on the pecan tree. I watched out the window as the birds fluttered around. They flittered and hopped from one limb to the next. They chirped and ate the seeds. Sometimes they even flew about and chased each other. But Flea wasn’t with them. I kept telling myself that she would come back. When I didn’t see her, it made me feel sad inside.

  All right … I know it’s kind of weird for a cat to have a mockingbird as a friend. Flea was different, though. She wasn’t just any old mockingbird—she was kind of like my adopted family. When we first met, Flea wanted me to eat her. That was because she was afraid to fly. Her family went “south” without her. She was scared and lonely and so hungry she was about to starve.

  Since I don’t eat birds, she finally talked me into feeding her instead. I had fun helping her learn to fly. It wasn’t easy, but with some help from Callie and Mr. Bullsnake, we finally taught her. She started her trip south a few weeks after the rest of her family. I worried that she might be cold or even lost some place. But Callie promised that she would be fine. She said that Flea would be back. Winter followed fall, and spring followed winter. It was winter. Flea had only been gone a few months, but it seemed to me that winter was forever and spring would never come.

  So, I kept telling myself that Flea would be back, and I kept telling myself that I wasn’t afraid of the big rats.

  Only I didn’t smile and laugh and get all excited when I talked to my
self. Mama was weird.

  My tail flipped as I watched her almost dance around the kitchen, holding the ringy-box and jabbering away. The Mama talked to herself for a long time. When she finally put the box back on the wall, she let out a squeal. The Daddy came in and grabbed her in his arms.

  “I can’t believe it. They’ll all be home for Christmas! I can’t wait!”

  Daddy spun Mama around once, then put her down. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and patted her bottom. Mama pushed his hand away.

  “Quit … we don’t have time for any of your nonsense. There’s lots to do and not much time to get ready!” Mama jumped around and started working again.

  I looked up at the Mama and Daddy. There was excitement in the house. There was a happy feeling. I liked this. I liked the good feeling.

  For a while it seemed as if there was nothing but sad in the house. I was sad because my Flea flew south for the winter. The Mama and Daddy were sad because of Muffy. Muffy was the brown dog who lived in the backyard. She was very old and not very friendly to me. I think it was because Muffy’s bones and legs hurt so bad. I think it was because she didn’t feel well.

  The Mama and Daddy had to take Muffy to the vet. Even before they left the house, the sadness had crept in. They moved slow—as if they really didn’t want to go. When they came home, the sad feel in the house was even worse. Water leaked from the Mama’s eyes when they came inside. I don’t know what happened to Muffy. I don’t know why she didn’t come home from the vet. I do know that the Mama and Daddy were very, very sad.

  Now, for the first time in a long while, they were happy. It made me happy, too. It made me feel good.

  Fact was, it made me feel so good that I marched straight to the front door. I put my paws on the wood and meowed as loud as I could.

  “Let me out!” I demanded. “Out. Now!”

  It wasn’t long before Mama came. She leaned down and stroked my head, then she opened the door for me. Feeling bigger and braver and stronger than I had ever felt before, I pranced down the sidewalk. I marched straight to the big barn and stood at the crack between the two giant doors.

  The smell of rodents was everywhere. I pushed my head in through the crack. I knew the rats were there. This time I was sure I could handle them.

  With a little wiggle, I slipped inside. I paused a moment, letting my eyes get used to the dark. Four large, dark forms sat by the grain bin. Crunching sounds came to my ears. I guess the rats were gnawing on some kernels of corn. A knot kind of stuck in my throat when I swallowed. These creatures were even bigger than I remembered.

  I eased closer. The rats didn’t seem to notice as I inched toward them. Suddenly two of them spotted me and darted for a hole in the corner.

  When they ran, it made me feel big and brave.

  But …

  The two other rats stopped eating and looked up. They didn’t run.

  “Hey, Nora. Look at the little kitty cat!”

  “Yeah, Smitty. I’ve seen him before. He’s the fraidy-cat, remember?”

  The one called Smitty took a step toward me. “Yeah, he’s the one we chased. Nearly got him, too. Reckon he’s slower now? He’s a lot fatter, almost big enough to eat.” Smitty licked his lips.

  Nora’s yellow eyes pierced like hot embers as the two rats glared at me.

  My stomach did a flip-flop. I backed slowly toward the door. Both rats inched forward. They moved apart—one came at me from the right, the other from the left. I felt my tail fuzz. It sprang straight up behind me, almost as big around as the rest of me was.

  They stopped and stared. Not even their whiskers twitched. Then they moved again, quicker this time. I felt a shiver as I suddenly realized they were trying to surround me. They were trying to block my escape from the big, dark barn.

  Without taking my eyes from them, I backed up.

  “Now!” Nora hissed in her ratty voice. “Let’s get him!”

  CHAPTER 2

  Okay … maybe I overdid it with the happy feeling. Maybe I needed to talk to myself like Mama did. Maybe I needed to get more excited and more worked up. Maybe I needed to spend a little more time trying to convince myself that I really was big and brave and strong, before I tried to face the rats.

  I was just lucky I made it through the crack between the two wooden doors. As big as I was fuzzed up, I was surprised I managed to make it. Once safely outside the barn, I headed for the house and meowed for Mama to let me in.

  I checked the cat bowl on the kitchen floor. Callie had left me a few bits of egg and bacon. I gobbled them down. People were confusing. The ringy-box was confusing. And what was this Christmas stuff? Maybe there were a few more things I needed to figure out before I got too wrapped up in this happy feeling.

  The happy in our home seemed to grow with each passing day. Mama left the house more often. She would go to the driveway and start her car. It roared and sputtered. Sometimes when it wouldn’t start, Mama would get out and talk mean to it. Then she would try again. One day she even got out and kicked it.

  I don’t think the car felt it, though. Mama did. She grabbed her foot and started hopping around on her other leg. Then she talked real mean to it again.

  Each time Mama left she would come back with lots of packages. The closet was filled with boxes and paper and ribbon. When I was bored, I would investigate the weird things that were hidden away.

  One day Mama started bringing all the stuff out. She wrapped colored papers around the boxes. Then she tied on long strings and bows. I watched patiently. When she wasn’t looking, I grabbed the ends of the strings that dangled from the side of the packages. I pulled at the bows. I sharpened my long claws on the paper.

  “Gray! Bad cat! Get away from the gifts. I’ll put you outside!”

  I batted at the strings one more time.

  Mama picked up one of the long tube things with shiny paper wrapped around it. She whomped me right on the bottom. I scampered away and hid under the couch. Only the ribbons wiggled when the heater came on. The temptation was just too much. When I sneaked back and swatted the string again, Mama picked me up, gave me a quick rub (only she stroked my hair the wrong way), and put me outside.

  “You can come in later, Gray.”

  Cold wind ruffled my hair as I looked around the porch. Callie was still inside. I jumped on the rocker and fluffed my fur, trying to keep warm. There was no sunshine on the porch. It was hard to take a catnap when there was no warm sun to stretch out in. Boy, is it nippy out here, I thought.

  Leaving the rocker, I jumped to the porch chair and looked in the window. I meowed as loudly as I could. When no one came, I went to the door and scratched at the screen with my claws. Still nobody. My fur kind of gave a little ripple—all on its own. I curled my tail around my legs and sat, watching for someone to open the door.

  The sound of a car made my ears twitch. I bounced to the sidewalk to see who it was. The Daddy was getting out of his pickup truck. I hurried to rub against his leg.

  “Get back, Gray! I’ve got to get this tree into the house.” He gently shoved me with his foot.

  I stood at the end of the driveway and watched. Daddy opened the back of the truck and branches flopped out. I arched an eyebrow. Guess Daddy ran over a tree. How else would it have fallen into the back of his truck? He began grabbing the limbs and fighting with the thing. But instead of throwing it away, like I thought he would, he started dragging it toward me.

  I scampered up the sidewalk in front of him to keep from getting smushed by the pine tree. Being a cat and getting chased by rats was bad enough. Now a tree was chasing me. I’d never been chased by a tree before.

  My fur fuzzed. Eyes wide, I shot for the safety of the pecan tree. This whole thing was getting weirder and weirder. The packages were weird. The ringy-box and the happy feel in the house were weird. The packages, the shiny paper, the string … Daddy disappeared through the door. The tree chased right after him. A tree in the house … My people were carrying this stuff too far. They wer
e going totally bonkers!

  Cautiously, I crept down from the tree and went to the door. I just had to see what was going on. I didn’t even have time to put my paws on the screen and peek in when the door flew open. I darted out of the way. Daddy walked toward the barn. I hid under the rocker for a moment, until I felt it was safe, then I went back for a peek. Here came Daddy again. He carried some boards. I scampered for the rocker. Daddy held the door open and bent down to look at me.

  “Come on, cat. It’s cold out here. Come on in.”

  I didn’t know if I wanted inside or not. I mean … what if the tree started chasing me again. What if …

  “Come on, Gray.”

  I had to see what was happening. I darted into the house. If I could just make it to my hiding place …

  Right in the middle of the living room, I came to a screeching stop!

  My hiding place was gone! The furniture wasn’t where it was supposed to be. A big empty space was in front of the window where the chair belonged. The couch was moved close to the wall. There wasn’t any room to squeeze behind it and hide. So I pushed as close to it as I could and watched.

  “What’s with that stupid cat, Kay? He’s been flying around, all puffed up, since I got home. Think he’s sick or something?”

  “I don’t know,” Mama called from the kitchen. “Maybe he’s just getting into the Christmas spirit. You get the tree?”

  “Yeah. Got it inside, already. Where do you want me to put it?”

  Mama trotted into the living room. There was a big smile on her face. My whiskers twitched as I pushed myself closer to the wall. I perked my ears, listening to the excited voices.

  This was wonderful! Maybe this tree wasn’t so bad (now that it was being still and not chasing me). Maybe they brought it inside—just for Callie and me. Sure. That was it. They brought a tree inside for us to climb! I couldn’t wait for them to leave so I could scamper to the very top and see what was going on.

  Daddy got some boards. He worked with nails and a hammer, trying to get the tree to stand up straight. As soon as it was up, Mama began putting long strings of colorful things around it. She placed them on the tree, frowned, then took them down and started again.