That Furball Puppy and Me by Carol Wallace, Bill Wallance Page A

little ringy-box and held it against the side of her head.
    â€œHello,” 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 braveand 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 promisedthat 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 myself. 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.
    â€œI 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.
    â€œQuit … we don’t have time for