Katt vs. Dogg

by James Patterson

  “Well, climb aboard the raft, children, and I’ll pilot you on over to the other side, I reckon,” said Old Jim. “I love a-sliding down the big river. We can catch fish and talk, and take a swim now and then to keep off sleepiness.”

  “We just want to go across,” said Molly.

  Old Jim shrugged. “Suit yourself, missy. But it’s kind of solemn, drifting down the big, still river, laying on your backs looking up at the stars.”

  Molly thought the otter’s words sounded like something out of a book. “Thanks, Mr. Old Jim. Maybe we can do that with you later, but right now, we just want to go home to our families,” she said sweetly.

  Oscar nodded, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

  “Then I won’t try to convince you otherwise,” said the otter. “One thing I’ve learned is never try to teach a pig to sing. You waste your time and you annoy the pig.”

  “Um, neither one of us is a pig,” said Oscar.

  “It’s a metaphor, son. Work with me.”

  Molly turned to the beaver. “Are you sure this old coot of an otter is the best riverboat captain we can find?” she whispered, shielding her mouth with a paw.

  “The best,” said the beaver, eagerly.

  “Okay,” said Molly. “Let’s launch this thing!”

  Molly, Oscar, the beaver, and the monkey worked together to shove the lashed logs into the rippling water. Old Jim steadied the raft in place with his paws.

  “Best climb aboard, children,” said Old Jim. “River sometimes has a mind of its own. Might take you where it wants to go instead of where you want to go.”

  Oscar and Molly leapt onto the bumpy logs of the wobbly rivercraft. They called out their thanks and waved good-bye to the kind beaver and monkey. Wild animals were so much kinder than civilized ones!

  “Next stop, the far side!” said the ancient otter, shoving off from the shore. Then he started whistling to himself.

  Old Jim kept blathering on about the Mighty Big River but he also kept flipping his tail like crazy. The ancient otter was so incredibly strong he was able to pilot the raft across the river, through the swift current, even while he waxed poetic on all manner of subjects.

  “I speak true, children,” said Old Jim, as they rolled over the rapids, “I have seen doggs good and doggs bad. I’ve seen katts good and katts bad. This here river is what separates ’em.”

  “What about deer?” asked Molly. “Have you seen good deer, too?”

  “I reckon I have, by and by.”

  “Well how about that guy on the shore,” said Oscar, pointing at the giant creature with an enormous set of antlers that remind him of a dogg coat rack. The deer was fully clothed in plaid flannel and blue jeans. That meant he wasn’t wild. “His antlers would make a good place for us to tie off!”

  “But is he a good deer?” asked Molly. “Or a bad one?”

  “Only one way to find out, I reckon,” said Old Jim. “Toss him a line!”

  Chapter 51

  Oscar grabbed a clump of coiled vine with his teeth.

  He whipped his head sideways to heave the ropey thing up to the deer standing on the shoreline.

  The deer dipped his head.

  The vine whipped around and around his antlers like a bolo.

  “I charge a docking fee,” the deer snorted, once the rope line was tied off, taut and secure.

  “Civilization,” grumbled Old Jim, treading water at the rear of the raft. “That’s what folks call it on this side of the river. I’ll stay on my side where I reckon kindness don’t have a price.”

  “Civilization is where we live,” said Oscar. “Come on, Molly. Let’s go home.”

  “Um, how are we going to pay the deer the docking fee?”

  Oscar had to think about that for a second. “I know! By letting him be the one who rescues us! I’m sure there’s a reward.”

  “True. My father is extremely rich. And I’m his Priceless Princess.”

  “Seriously?”

  “It’s sort of a nickname. Come on, dogg. I don’t know about you, but I’m in a hurry to get home. It’ll be so good to sleep in my own bed and poop in my own litter box!”

  The nimble little katt sprang off the raft and landed on the riverbank.

  Oscar, on the other hand, needed to go to the rear of the raft so he could take a running start before leaping. Old Jim was in the river, looking up at Oscar and shaking his head.

  “Good luck, dogg. I have a feeling you’re gonna need it. Up there in the civilized world, animal beings can be awful cruel to one another.”

  “Yeah,” said Oscar. “It’s sort of what we do. Thanks for the ride!”

  He exploded into a sprint and flew off the edge of the raft.

  “Woo-hoo!” he shouted when his paws touched ground. “Nailed that landing, big time.”

  “See you next time, children,” said Old Jim, shoving off from the shore with the raft.

  “Thank you, Old Jim! We’ll come back and pay you when we have money!” said Molly.

  “I do not wish any reward but to know I have done the right thing,” called the otter as he floated away.

  The deer held up a hoof. “I’m not a dumb beast like the otter. Where’s my docking fee, kids?”

  “It’s coming,” said Molly distractedly.

  “So’s Christmas.”

  “You just have to give us a ride.”

  “What?”

  “You want your money, right?”

  “Uh, duh,” said the deer.

  “Then take me to my daddy!” Molly pointed to the billboard she’d been admiring ever since she sprang off the raft and saw it.

  BRING HOME MOLLY! BIG REWARD $$$! screamed the headline over her favorite glam shot.

  Someone had added a new banner to the billboard: BIG RALLY AT CAPITOL TODAY!

  “My dad paid for that billboard,” said Molly. “He’s Boomer Hissleton the Third. Ever heard of him?”

  “Yeah,” said the deer. “Everybody’s heard of him. He’s rich and on TV!”

  “Well Molly here is his ‘Priceless Princess’!” added Oscar.

  “Is that so?” said the deer.

  Molly gave him her most regal look. “It most certainly is.”

  “Then climb aboard, Princess. I’ll happily haul you home.”

  “Um, what about me?” said Oscar.

  The deer looked to Molly. She nodded.

  “You have to haul him, too,” she said. “We’re still kind of, sort of in this thing together.”

  Chapter 52

  At that very moment, Boomer Hissleton the Third, Esquire, was addressing a crowd on the steps of the capitol building in Faunae City.

  “My fellow katts,” he said into a bank of microphones. “My darling daughter needs your help. She has been lost in the wilderness for days. She has, undoubtedly, faced all sorts of gruesome, dangerous foes, including…”

  Molly’s father’s shoulders heaved and lurched. Repeatedly. The thought of what he was about to say next was making him feel as if he had to hock up a hairball.

  “A dastardly, dangerous dogg!” he blurted, spitting out the horrible word as if it were a soggy lump of semi-digested fur.

  The five or six katts in the crowd hissed. The lion, tiger, and panther growled. The crowd outside the capitol building that morning was woefully thin and sparse. Molly had been missing for so long, she was rapidly becoming yesterday’s news. Not that many creatures were still interested in her plight. They’d moved on to the next big story. Something about a gerbil.

  “We need to raise more money to raise a rescue team!” Molly’s father continued. “Please dig deep! Give whatever you can!”

  That’s when the katts and other feline creatures in the crowd started coughing. And remembering they had previous appointments. And casually strolling away.

  “Step aside,” Oscar’s dad snarled to Molly’s father as he made his way to the microphones. “Forget about the katt, everybody. She’s probably dead, anyway.”

  “I
beg your pardon?” snapped Boomer, Molly’s father.

  Duke shrugged. “She’s a katt. What do katts know about fending for themselves? They always want somebody to wait on them and bring them din-din in dainty little crystal dishes.”

  “I’ll have you know, you slobbering oaf, we katts are some of the finest hunters on the planet.”

  “You mean you used to be. Now you’re soft and lazy. You spend most of your day napping. My son, Oscar? He’s a Dogg Scout. An athlete. He knows how to survive in the wilderness. Even has a badge for it. So, if you folks want to give money to a rescue party, give it to the party who still has a chance of being rescued. My son, Oscar.”

  “Molly is important, too!” hissed her father.

  “Not to me, she isn’t!” growled Duke.

  “Molly needs your help!” her father pleaded with what was left of the crowd, which was one elephant. He was so humongous and slow, it took him longer than everybody else to turn his back on the bickering dogg and katt.

  “Oscar needs it more!” Duke shouted at the lumbering elephant.

  “Does not!”

  “Does, too!”

  “Doesn’t!

  “Does!”

  Finally, the elephant flung up its trunk in disgust and trumpeted a wet “Shaddap!” over its shoulder. As the elephant turned, when its wide rear end was no longer blocking the view, both Duke and Boomer saw something miraculous riding toward them on the back of a deer.

  Oscar and Molly!

  Chapter 53

  Lola!” screamed Duke. “Fifi! Get out here. Oscar’s come home!”

  Oscar’s mother and sister came running out of the capitol building and down the steps. So did Molly’s mother and brother.

  “Hiya, Mom. Blade!” said Molly. “Hey, Dad!”

  “Hallelujah!” shouted Boomer. “My daughter is alive!”

  “So’s my son!” shouted Duke. “And he looks more alive than your daughter ever could!”

  The two families knocked over the stand of microphones and raced to the bottom of the steps where the deer stood with their children. Before long, Oscar’s whole family was hugging him while Molly’s whole family was hugging her.

  “You’re safe!” both mothers sobbed at the same time.

  “You can have all your squeaky toys back,” said Oscar’s sister, Fifi.

  “Thanks,” said Oscar.

  “Ahem,” said the deer. “I believe youse owe me a reward for finding these two?”

  Molly’s father hesitated.

  “Since you rescued both my daughter and this, this… dogg child… I think I can only be held responsible for half of the reward. The mangy mutt’s family can pay you the rest.”

  “You know, katt, you must’ve been born on a highway,” snapped Oscar’s dad. “Because that’s where most accidents happen. No way am I paying this deer diddly. We never offered a reward. That was all you.”

  “Because I love my daughter more than you love your son!”

  “Says who?”

  “Me. Weren’t you listening? Must be hard with those big floppy ears of yours barely poking out of that grimy cap!” Boomer hissed.

  “Why, I oughtta…” snarled Duke, flaring his fangs.

  “Yo,” screamed the deer. “I want my reward money!”

  “Pay him, Daddy,” said Molly.

  “Fine,” said Boomer, writing a check for a large sum of money.

  The deer snorted and took off. The katts hugged Molly some more. The doggs patted Oscar on the back.

  “It’s so good to have you home, Molly,” said Boomer. Then he noticed that Molly was missing the tip of her tail and the top of one ear. He spun around and hissed at Oscar. “Did you do this to my daughter, you dirty, disgusting dogg?”

  “No, sir,” said Oscar. “She was like that when I first met her. I didn’t do it. Tell him, Molly.”

  Molly looked to her father. She wanted to say something to defend Oscar.

  But her father looked so angry and full of hate that she didn’t.

  She didn’t mention the mountain lion. She didn’t say anything about the other hardships they’d endured together. She just stood frozen, looking scared while her father (and pretty soon her mother and brother) hissed at Oscar.

  That hurt Oscar—maybe even more than the weaselboar tusk slashing across his chest.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Oscar’s dad. “What’s that big cut on your chest, there, Oscar? Did that creepy katt slash you with her claws?”

  Oscar looked at Molly who still wasn’t saying anything to defend him.

  So he returned the favor.

  He didn’t say anything to defend her, either!

  Chapter 54

  With the safe return of Oscar and Molly, you might assume that things would change in Kattsburgh and Doggsylvania.

  You might suppose that Oscar and Molly’s feuding families would have a change of heart after they heard the truth about how their two children helped each other survive in the wilderness.

  You might even imagine that the wise words about animal unity from the head park ranger would ring throughout the civilized land.

  You might assume, suppose, and imagine all that. But you’d be wrong.

  The katts and doggs were still at each other’s throats, spreading rumors and lies.

  Oscar sat in his dogg bed flipping through the TV channels. One news station said he was a hero for surviving the “horrible and horrendous hardships” of the wilderness as only “a true Dogg Scout could.”

  On another 24-hour news channel—one that featured mostly katt food, kattnip, and feather toy commercials—the katt commentators in their squares and boxes kept yelling at each other, insisting that Oscar should be locked up in the dogg pound.

  The same thing was true on the internet. Pro-dogg websites cast Oscar as a hero and Molly as a villain. They blamed the katt for Oscar’s wounds.

  Pro-katt sites called Oscar a mutt, a mongrel, and a menace to society. They blamed him for everything from ticks to fleas to Molly’s nipped ear, which might “seriously jeopardize her dreams of becoming a famous feline movie star.”

  Oscar sighed and remembered how Molly had helped him when he was hurt. How she brought him all those medicinal herbs.

  Oscar hadn’t seen Molly since the day they returned home. But he’d never forget their time together in the scary wilderness. How they helped each other. How they kept each other safe. How they kind of, sort of, temporarily became friends.

  He’d never tell his family, the TV and newspaper reporters, or even the bloggers but, secretly, he missed her.

  He missed her a lot.

  Chapter 55

  Molly was napping in a sunny spot in the living room when she heard the doorbell ring.

  “Where’s Molly?” asked whoever was at the front door. “Where’s our next big TV star?”

  Molly sprang up and groomed herself with a few quick paw licks.

  “There she is!”

  The ferret Molly recognized from the Weasel Broadcasting Network on cable TV burst into the living room.

  “Oh, my! Those eyes! They’re amazing! They’re so blue they could be swimming pools. No. They could be the sky. No. The sky reflected in a swimming pool!”

  “How may I be of assistance?” asked Molly, using super excellent diction to pronounce all the syllables.

  “By letting me make you a star, Molly!” said the ferret. “We’ve been covering your struggle out in the wilderness. All the trials and tribulations of being stranded with your Sworn Enemy for Life. Now, we want to host a live, must-see TV event.”

  “What’s all this?” said Molly’s dad as he strolled into the living room.

  “Mr. Hissleton,” said the ferret. “We’ve met.”

  “Indeed, we have,” said Boomer. “I never forget a ferret. You’re the TV reporter.”

  “That’s right. I’m also ready to take Molly’s fame to the next level.”

  “Really?” Molly giggled. “Tell me more.”

 
“You got it, kiddo. Let me put this on the stoop and see if you folks lick it up.”

  The ferret rubbed her paws together.

  “The Weasel Broadcasting Network wants to host a one-on-one, live debate between you and your sworn enemy, Oscar,” said the ferret. “You two will confront each other at the city auditorium. I’ll moderate. You can finally tell the whole world the truth about that demented and dangerous dogg.”

  “It’ll be ugly!” said Molly’s father.

  “And that’s why it will be so beautiful,” said the ferret. “Molly will demolish Oscar. Live on national television. Everybody will be watching: doggs, katts, monkeys, gerbils, hyenas. Even the fish will tune in for this.”

  “Molly,” gushed her mom, “this is the big break you’ve been waiting for all your life. After this live TV debate, you’ll be famous!”

  “This is your shot, dear,” said Boomer. “If you want to be a movie star, this will put you miles ahead of the competition.”

  The ferret pulled out a long scroll filled with legal mumbo jumbo.

  “I need you to sign this contract on your daughter’s behalf, Mr. Hissleton,” she said.

  Boomer Hissleton looked at his daughter. “Do you want to be a star, Molly?”

  It was what she’d wanted her entire life. Molly nodded. “Do it, Daddy,” she said.

  Then she grinned. She was going to be famous.

  Chapter 56

  Ten minutes later, the WBN ferret was at Oscar’s house.

  “Let me put this in your bowl and see if you folks gobble it down,” she said, launching into the same sales pitch she’d made to the katts.

  “You two will confront each other at the city auditorium,” said the ferret. “I’ll moderate. The whole thing goes out live—on TV, the internet, everywhere. You can finally tell the whole world the truth about that crazed, chest-slashing katt, Molly.”