New Beginnings by Laurie Halse Anderson Page B

I dump each load, I scrounge around a bit for anything that would make interesting additions to Cuddles’s castle. I also check for the stray tabby in the alley behind the store, but there is no sign of him. We’re probably making too much noise.
    Dad lets me hang a flyer for Stream Cleanup Day in the store window, even though the store won’t open for another two weeks. He says he’d be happy to donate garbage bags and maybe he’ll even have time to volunteer on Saturday morning.
    â€œIt’d be a good way to help out and get to know members of the community,” Dad says. I agree—it’ll be great to have Dad there, especially if Josh is hanging out with David and ignoring me.
    After dinner, Josh is in our room again. Sophie decorates the outside walls of Cuddles’s castle with more flowers and butterflies. Sophie is a little calmer today and so is Cuddles. Even Josh notices.
    â€œCuddles is not only behaving herself,” he whispers to me, “but your newly tamed rabbit is going to help tame our sister, too. Sophie will be easier to babysit now that we have Cuddles to distract and entertain her.”
    â€œI know,” I reply. “Did I tell you Mr. Hart called me the bunny whisperer? Because no one else had been able to pet Cuddles.”
    Josh laughs. “Yep, you’re the bunny whisperer all right. What have I been telling you? You have a sixth sense.”
    Josh commenting on my Animal Sense makes me feel good. He sits at my desk and watches as I add another cardboard room with rounded windows and doors to Cuddles’s castle. I use Sophie’s markers and write CUDDLES above the biggest door in fancy lettering.
    Cuddles goes from calm to frisky again, hopping around exploring her new addition, stopping to groom her face and whiskers, then energetically sniffing and hopping again. I didn’t find a phone book yet, but Cuddles loves the toilet paper roll I made her with a carrot inside and a little hay stuck in both ends. She is so adorable and funny, chewing and throwing the cardboard roll around until she finally gets the carrot inside. Sophie keeps drawing tons of pictures of Cuddles doing all kinds of things and hanging them in our room. Hopping, hiding, exploring, sleeping, sniffing, and pooping.
    â€œYou’ve got quite a gallery of bunny art, Sophie,” Josh says, studying all her drawings.
    â€œI know,” she says, beaming a Sophie-sized smile. “I’m an artist.”
    Cuddles does a funny hop and high leap that looks makes her look like she’s dancing.
    I’m so glad we got her. Josh and Sophie are, too. And so far, no complaints from Mom or Dad. I think we’ll complete our one-week trial period no problem.
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    Friday morning I wake up early. I make sure Cuddles eats, then I clean out her cage and wait for Josh to finish breakfast. It’s time to take Cuddles to Dr. Mac’s, and I’m glad Josh has agreed to go with me. When we get to Dr. Mac’s, the door is still locked, so Josh rings the after-hours bell. Through the glass door we see Sherlock lumber out through the side door, followed by Dr. Mac. She unlocks the door.
    â€œGood morning, everyone,” Dr. Mac says. “Thanks for bringing Cuddles by bright and early.” The vet looks a little tired.
    â€œI hope we didn’t make you get up too early,” Josh says.
    â€œOh no, we were up early feeding hungry kittens!” Dr. Mac laughs. “In fact, Maggie is still feeding the last one now.”
    Dr. Mac asks a couple of quick questions about how Cuddles is feeling and when she last ate, then tells us she’ll do the spay later in the morning, “When Dr. Gabe is here to help hold down the fort. You can come by after school. Cuddles should be sufficiently recovered by then, and you can take her home to rest up.”
    â€œOkay,” Josh says.
    â€œSee you soon, Cuddles. Be