The cat is still not anywhere I can see it. I pad to the food-smelling room and sniff the ground. Maybe one of my humans dropped something. I think I already checked, but I can’t remember, so I check again. But I don’t find anything.
I wander over to my bed in the food-smelling room and lie down. My eyes start to close. Then I hear it. My ears go up, and the fur on my back straightens. From outside, there is a loud mewling sound that I know is coming from the cat. I stand up and run to the front window. And there it is again, only now, it’s on the sidewalk right in front of me, staring at me through the window. I press a paw against the glass, then I’m up on my back legs with both paws on the front window and I’m barking and barking and I can’t stop, I won’t stop, I couldn’t stop, not even if my humans were here telling me, “No, Shadow!”
The cat walks on its short legs to the grass, not looking at me. It wanders around for a while, pawing at the grass, then it turns so that it can see me, crouches, and starts to make.
I hear the whine deep in my throat, and I let it out and it sounds like a howl. The cat is making on grass that I’m not allowed to make on. I paw and paw the window, barking, whining, pawing—I need to break through the glass so that I can get the cat.
I hear Dark Female’s car before I see it. It stops next to the sidewalk, creaks and shudders, then goes still. Dark Female gets out, and I hear the hollow car-door slam. The cat runs away and crosses the wide dark strip. It sits on the sidewalk and starts to lick its back.
I lower my front paws to the ground, because I know if Dark Female sees me against the window, she will call me Bad Boy with her mad-looking face. She goes to the back of the car and pulls something out. I sniff the air and smell something, very faint but good smelling. As Dark Female comes closer to my house, my tail wags. I don’t make it wag—it just does.
I hear the key in the front door, then the door opens and Dark Female walks in carrying something in her hands that is definitely food. I know it’s not for me, but my tail wags and wags just the same. Dark Female tries to close the door with her foot.
“Hi, Shadow,” she says. She isn’t smiling or happy sounding, but she doesn’t have mad face, either, so I trot over to her. She can’t pet me because of the thing she’s holding, but Dark Female never pets me. “Good boy,” she says, but her voice sounds flat and tired, not like when my humans say it.
She walks toward the food-smelling room just as the front door starts to roll open. I see outside, to where I’m not allowed unless my humans have me tied to the long rope. And outside, across the dark strip, is the cat. I take a few steps past the door, knowing I’m being a Bad Boy, but I can’t help it. I chuff. The cat’s ears jerk in my direction, then flatten on its head, like it knows there’s nothing between us now, no window to keep me in, to keep me from getting the cat. It snarls and scurries away and I start to run, but before I can get down the stairs to the walkway, I feel my collar tighten on my neck.
“No, Shadow! Bad boy!” Dark Female is holding my collar. I know I could pull away from her—her hand isn’t strong like my neck. But I don’t like her calling me Bad Boy, even though going out of the front door is a Bad Boy thing. I chuff and snort and whine at the cat, then I let Dark Female lead me back into the house.
She closes the door and lets go of me, then looks down at me with mad face. She says something I don’t understand, but her mad face is getting less and less. She turns and walks toward the food-smelling room, and I follow her. Maybe something will drop out of the thing she was carrying. That wouldn’t be as good as getting the cat. But pretty good.
FORTY-FOUR
JONAH
I never noticed before, but Marco has strips of Velcro on his paws, just like my sneakers from when I was in preschool. I learned to tie my shoes over summer vacation and Mommy and Daddy were real proud. Eden taught me. She spent every morning showing me how, first with both the ties being bunny ears and then just one of the ties being a bunny ear and the other tie kind of looping around the bunny ear and pulling through. I like how she was all patient with me and didn’t get all mad when I couldn’t do it.
Anyway, Marco has Velcro on his paws so you can wrap him around your neck and stick his two paws together and he’ll hang on you like he’s giving you a hug. I have him hanging around my neck as I climb down from the car. It’s good because I can hold my egg bag with one hand and my backpack with the other.
Eden isn’t very talky right now—she’s kind of got a frown on her face and every time Mommy asks her a question, she only answers with like one word or something. Eden is a great sister, but sometimes she can be grumpy, like now. She didn’t even smile or anything when I told her how many cookies-and-cream eggs I got. She just kind of gave a little snort, like Shadow does sometimes, and looked out the window at the street.
Sometimes when she’s grumpy, it makes me grumpy, too. But not today. Because I won the spring egg hunt and I got to take home Marco, and nobody and nothing could make me grumpy today.
Auntie Ruth’s car is on the street in front of our house, and I’m kind of excited because Mommy said Auntie Ruth was bringing over lasagna and I really like Auntie Ruth’s lasagna. Eden got all mad and said it was the first night of vacation and it’s supposed to be family night and where’s Daddy? And Mommy said it’s still family night ’cause Auntie Ruth is family, and Daddy has to work late and that happens sometimes.
I’m a little bit sad that Daddy’s not going to be home, but I gave him his eggs for his working-late night, so he’ll be okay. I’m going to give Auntie Ruth all of my Butterfinger eggs ’cause I know she likes ’em—at least, I think so. I think it’s really nice of her to bring over lasagna, so I want to do something nice for her, and even though I like the Butterfinger eggs really a lot, I like the other ones, too, and I don’t mind giving the Butterfingers to her.
Mommy gets out of the car, then helps me out of my seat and I follow her up the path. She stops kind of all of a sudden and I bump into the back of her legs. She’s looking at the grass and I think maybe she sees a bug, but when I look where she’s looking I see a poop instead.
Mommy looks down at me and scrunches her nose. “Cat poop.”
I nod and we both look over at the sidewalk. Gigi, the big fluffy kitty from across the street, is sitting on the edge of the grass, her tail going back and forth. I know she’s a cat, and cats aren’t like people, but Gigi looks like she’s grinning or something, like she knows she did a bad thing but she’s happy about it. I feel the corners of my mouth twitch, ’cause it’s kind of funny, but I don’t let myself smile.
Mommy blows air out real loud. “I’ll get it in a minute.”