Leaping Lizzie

by Shelley Swanson Sateren

  I know what that’s like, I thought.

  “Come on, Tabby Cat. Dinner. My place. Want to?” she asked.

  “Thanks,” I said. “We’ll see. I want to try training Lizzie first.”

  Alfreeda tossed a toy mouse in the air, caught it, and tossed it up again. “Don’t bother,” she said. “It’s a waste of time trying to train a cat.”

  I felt the hair rise on top of my head. Be nice, be nice, I told myself.

  I took a deep breath and carried Lizzie to the counter by the washtub. I put her on the floor, facing the counter. Grandma Kit always filled the cat-food dishes on that counter. I opened the cat book and skimmed the training tips.

  “We’ll practice here, Lizzie,” I said in a gentle, quiet voice. “I’m going to teach you to stay off this counter — and all counters, okay? But first, you have to get on it. Then I’ll teach you to get off it.” I patted the counter. “Here, girl. Come, girl. Jump up, Lizzie.”

  She didn’t move.

  Alfreeda laughed — loudly.

  In a blink, Lizzie jumped. She shot like a pink-and-gray rocket into the air. She landed halfway up a cat tree, on top of a small shelf.

  “Wow!” Alfreeda cried. “Did you see how high she jumped?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah. Cats jump like that all the time. No big deal. You mean, dogs can’t jump five times their height?”

  Alfreeda didn’t say anything.

  Ha, I thought. Got her there.

  Alfreeda and I watched Lizzie jump from the cat tree to a kitty ladder on the side wall. She climbed it easily, then leaped to a narrow beam close to the ceiling. It was the highest perch in the whole playground.

  Lizzie lay on the beam and stared out the big window at the farmyard. Her tail hung down and wagged. She was bothered by something. No doubt the “something” was Alfreeda’s big, loud mouth.

  “Queen Lizzie must have strong back legs,” Alfreeda said.

  “Actually, all cats do,” I said. “Sphynx have extra-powerful ones.”

  “Not as powerful as a dog’s,” Alfreeda argued.

  “More powerful than a small dog’s,” I said.

  Alfreeda didn’t say anything.

  Ha again, I thought.

  I found a can of tuna in the cupboard and emptied it into a kitty dish. The room filled with the strong smell of fish.

  I set the dish on the counter. “Lizzie will smell it and jump onto the counter,” I said. “Then we’ll start training. Watch, she’ll come right down. Cats have a powerful sense of smell, stronger than a person’s.”

  “Not as powerful as a dog’s,” Alfreeda argued.

  My fingers curled into fists. The hair rose at the back of my neck. Alfreeda was such a pain! She was driving me crazy! I bit my tongue to keep from shouting at her.

  I spun around and took another can of tuna from the cupboard. I emptied it into the dish. Now the room smelled twice as fishy.

  “Come, Lizzie,” I called. “Come get the tasty tuna, girl.”

  Alfreeda laughed again. “Unlike dogs, cats don’t come when you call. Cats do not obey people. Cats can’t be trained. Okay?”

  “Not okay!” I snapped. “You’re wrong!”

  “Whoa,” Alfreeda said, backing away. “Someone’s acting catty.”

  I frowned at her. “Look, I have ideas that will fix Lizzie’s problem. I will train her to stay off counters. I will earn a month of free pizza. I’ll earn it by dinnertime today! Just watch me!”

  Alfreeda rolled her eyes.

  “I need to get some supplies,” I said. I gave my head a proud shake and flipped my ponytail as I walked out the door.

  I’d show Alfreeda!

  Chapter 5

  Hundreds of Places to Hide

  Ten minutes later, I carried a basket filled with supplies to the hotel door. I knocked.

  “All clear?” I called.

  “All clear,” Grandma Kit called back.

  “All clear” meant no cats or kittens crept near the door, ready to spring past my feet.

  “Watch your step,” Grandma Kit added. “Child’s out of his condo now.”

  I opened the door and headed inside. I quickly realized I couldn’t “watch my step.” I couldn’t see around the big basket in my arms. It held a baking pan, a bottle of salad oil, a bottle of dish soap, a picnic-table cloth, a roll of double-sided tape, and a bag of balloons.

  Suddenly Grandma Kit cried, “Look out, Tabitha! Don’t step —”

  Too late. My shoe landed on something wet. My foot slid forward. My legs flew in front of me. The basket shot into the air.

  I fell to the floor and landed, full force, on my left hand. “Ow!” I shouted. Pain shot up my wrist and into my arm.

  That same second, the baking pan fell to the floor with a bang! The oil bottle hit the floor with a thud! The soap bottle did too.

  Groaning, I lay on my back and watched Lizzie’s actions after the loud noises. She leaped from the beam to the top of a cat tree. Then she darted around and around the narrow kitty highway near the ceiling.

  “Are you okay?” Alfreeda asked me.

  I couldn’t believe Alfreeda was still here.

  “I think so,” I said.

  “You stepped on a hairball,” Grandma Kit explained. “Child just threw it up. I’ll get the mop and bucket from the basement.”

  “Gross,” Alfreeda said, wrinkling her nose. “That hairball stinks. Good thing dogs don’t get them.”

  “Dogs throw up sometimes,” I argued. “I bet they throw up lots of nasty stuff.”

  “Whatever,” Alfreeda said with a shrug.

  Grandma Kit opened the basement door just as I tried to sit up. A sharp pain shot through my wrist again.

  “I think I sprained my wrist,” I said.

  Grandma Kit kneeled beside me and gently rubbed my wrist.

  “Ow!” I cried.

  “It’s not broken,” she said. “But it does seem to be sprained. Wait here.”

  A few minutes later, I was still sitting beside the stinky hairball. Grandma Kit had gotten a bag of frozen peas from the freezer.

  “That’s a good thing about hairless cats, like Lizzie,” she said. “They don’t get hairballs. Their tummies don’t fill with fur when they clean themselves with their tongues.”

  Alfreeda picked up all the things that had flown out of the basket. She set them on the counter. “What’s this stuff for?” she asked.

  “Supplies for training Lizzie to stay off counters,” I said. “Most cats don’t like wet, sticky stuff on their paws. I figured Grandma Kit would say no to some of my ideas, so I brought a lot of supplies.”

  “Let’s hear your ideas,” Grandma Kit said.

  “Okay. My first idea is to cover the counter with salad oil,” I said. “What do you think? Lizzie would jump onto the counter and slide around. She wouldn’t like that feeling at all. She’d never go on the counter again.”

  “No. Too messy,” Grandma Kit said. “I don’t want oily paw prints all over Tabby Towers.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll cover the counter with a picnic-table cloth,” I said. “And I’ll put soapy water on the cloth. Just a little. It’s the same idea — Lizzie won’t like the feeling of her paws sliding around.”

  “Too unsafe,” Grandma Kit said. “She might slide off the counter and get hurt. What are your other ideas?”

  “I could fill the bottom of the pan with water,” I said. “Lizzie wouldn’t like the wetness. Or I could cover the counter with double-sided tape. Lizzie wouldn’t like the stickiness. Or I could blow up balloons and tape them to the counter. Lizzie’s sharp claws would pop them. The noise would scare her, and she’d never go on any counters ever again.”

  “Those ideas just might work. Smart girl,” Grandma Kit said. “Now rest this bag of frozen peas on your wrist.
The cold will help keep down the swelling.”

  She pressed on the bag just a bit, and pain traveled up my arm.

  “Ow!” I shouted.

  Lizzie jumped. She leaped from the kitty-cat highway all the way to the floor.

  “Wow! Did you see that?” Alfreeda cried.

  Lizzie darted across the playground floor in a flash of pink and gray. She tore through the open basement door and down the steps.

  “Oh no,” Grandma Kit groaned. “We’ll never find her down there. The basement is huge. It’s packed with a lifetime of belongings. There are hundreds of places to hide.”

  She jumped up and ran down the basement steps. “Lizzie! Come, Lizzie!”

  Alfreeda and I ran after Grandma Kit.

  Poor, scared Lizzie, I thought. We have to find her and help calm her down.

  Chapter 6

  A+ for Climbing Skills

  Grandma Kit was right about one thing: The basement was packed with belongings. A lifetime of cat-lover gifts filled the shelves. There were stuffed toy kitties, framed cat pictures, cat-shaped cookie jars, leopard-print blankets, tiger-stripe handbags, and much, much more.

  But Grandma Kit was wrong about one thing too: Lizzie wasn’t hard to find.

  The cat sat on top of a narrow pipe near the ceiling, the highest perch in the basement. Parts of the pipe were wrapped in cloth, so Lizzie could hang on easily. Her claws dug into the wrapping.

  “She gets an A+ for climbing skills,” I said. “She must’ve jumped to the pipe from the top of the boiler. Then she climbed across that skinny pipe. I’m impressed.”

  The big, old boiler heated the big, old farmhouse in the wintertime. The boiler had eight thick pipes sticking out of its wide, round belly. It looked like a giant octopus.

  “It’s just like a cat to climb to a super-high place and make people save her,” Alfreeda said. “Dogs don’t have to be saved from tall trees or rooftops or ceiling pipes.”

  My jaw tightened, and I ground my teeth.

  Grandma Kit gave me “the look” and a slow, warning headshake. I kept my mouth shut. But I truly didn’t know how much more of Alfreeda Wolfe I could stand that afternoon.

  “I’ll get Lizzie down,” Alfreeda said.

  “No, I will,” I snapped.

  I stepped onto the boiler’s door handle. I reached up with both hands and grabbed an octopus arm. I tried to pull myself up. The worst pain yet shot through my wrist. “Ow!” I said and jumped down. “I guess I can’t do it, after all.”

  “I can’t climb either,” Grandma Kit said, patting her leg. “I hurt my knee a couple days ago.”

  “So, I’ll do it,” Alfreeda offered again.

  “No,” I snapped. “Lizzie doesn’t need your help. Cats can get down from high places by themselves. People just need to give them enough time, that’s all.”

  “But I want Lizzie back upstairs now, Tabitha,” Grandma Kit said. “It’s my job to keep her safe. There are too many sharp tools and breakable things down here.”

  “Okay, then,” Alfreeda said with a grin. “Here I go. Alfreeda the Amazing Kitty-Cat Saver to the rescue!”

  I frowned. Grandma Kit looked at me and put her finger to her lips.

  “Fine,” I said quietly.

  Quick as a cat, Alfreeda climbed up the boiler and stood on top of it. She reached up and took hold of Lizzie’s pipe with both hands. Hand-over-hand, she moved across the pipe toward Lizzie. Her legs swung above big boxes and cat-print suitcases.

  Soon she’d come within a few feet of Lizzie. “Almost there!” Alfreeda shouted.

  Lizzie jumped and nearly fell. Grandma Kit gasped. I slapped my good hand over my mouth. My heart beat fast.

  “Oops,” Alfreeda whispered. “Sorry. Forgot about loud noises. I better be quieter.”

  No kidding, I thought.

  Lizzie quickly caught her balance and darted farther down the narrow pipe. She stopped and sat down again.

  “Show me a dog with such excellent balance,” I said.

  “Shhh,” Alfreeda whispered.

  Hand-over-hand, Alfreeda moved across the pipe until she hung just below Lizzie. Then she reached up with one hand and lifted Lizzie by the tummy. She set the cat on her shoulder.

  “Hang on, girl,” Alfreeda said in a soft voice.

  Lizzie must’ve dug her claws into Alfreeda’s shoulder because Alfreeda’s face wrinkled in pain. “Ow,” she whispered.

  With both hands back on the pipe, Alfreeda moved toward the boiler. She dropped onto it, then jumped to the floor, with Lizzie safely on her shoulder.

  “Good job,” I said. And I actually meant it.

  “Thanks,” Alfreeda said, smiling.

  Once we got upstairs again, we made sure the basement door was shut tight. We put Lizzie inside her cozy condo for some quiet time. I gave her the tuna, and she gobbled it right up.

  “I’m hungry too,” said Alfreeda.

  “I could eat ten cans of tuna,” I said.

  “How about pizza at the new restaurant in town?” Grandma Kit asked, patting Alfreeda on the back. “My treat, for saving Lizzie.”

  “Excellent.” Alfreeda grinned. “I get to have dinner with Tabby Cat, after all.”

  Chapter 7

  Changing the Subject

  Before long, Grandma Kit, Grandpa Tom, Alfreeda, and I were sitting at a table at Queen Lizzie’s Pizza Palace. We sipped lemonade and waited for the onion and extra-cheese pizza we’d ordered.

  A large picture of Lizzie hung on the far wall. She wore a crown. The picture had a fancy frame around it.

  The restaurant looked like the dining hall in a castle. Wooden beams crossed the high ceiling. Big tables filled the large room. The servers dressed like people from the Middle Ages. They looked really cool. I even saw two knights in shining armor!

  A wood-fired oven filled the wall behind the front counter. Piles of firewood were stacked beside it. Cooks put pizza after pizza into the oven to bake.

  The place was packed with pizza lovers. The busy servers leaped, catlike, between tables, bringing food and drinks.

  More hungry people arrived. The headwaiter rang a bell and shouted “Welcome!” every time a guest entered the restaurant.

  I watched people eating pizza, and my mouth watered. I couldn’t wait!

  But I had to wait. And I had to listen to Alfreeda chatter on and on about dogs too. Grandma Kit tried to change the subject. She even thanked Alfreeda again for saving Lizzie in the basement.

  “No problem,” Alfreeda said. “But that’s a cat for you. A dog would never run into a room and look for the highest spot to hang out.”

  That did it. I snapped, “Would you please stop bragging about dogs and putting down —”

  Grandma Kit kicked me under the table.

  I shut my mouth. I spun sideways in my seat so I wouldn’t have to look at Alfreeda anymore. I frowned at the front counter that had started this problem in the first place.

  Then I looked around the rest of the restaurant. And I slowly began to realize something — something important.

  Suddenly I sat up straight, snapped my fingers, and cried, “That’s it!”

  Chapter 8

  Kitty Castle in the Clouds

  I spun back around in my seat to face Alfreeda and my grandparents.

  “That’s what, Tabitha?” Grandma Kit asked.

  I pointed across the restaurant. “See Lizzie’s bed in the front window?” I said. “It’s right by the very busy front door, by that loud bell. I bet Lizzie feels really unsafe with all the noise and strangers.”

  “Ah! You’re thinking like a cat,” Grandpa Tom said with a grin. “Go on.”

  “Now, look at the front counter,” I continued. “It’s the highest flat space in the whole restaurant — the highest perch a scared cat could jump to. Li
zzie’s instinct is to get away from scary sights and sounds, right?”

  “Yes. All cats have that instinct,” Grandpa Tom said. “They go to the highest spot with the best view. They watch for prey and predators from there.”

  “There’s no way Lizzie would feel safe here,” I said. “There’s no high place where she can hide or rest or keep watch. That’s why she kept leaping to high places at the hotel. She was frightened. Grandpa Tom, could you build a tall cat tree here? One for Lizzie?”

  “You bet,” he said. “I’d be happy to.”

  “Great!” I said. “I’ll be right back.” I leaped off my chair and dashed to the front counter. I asked for Ben.

  A minute later, Ben came over. I explained the problem to him, about Lizzie’s instinct to climb high to safety.

  “So, I won’t ever be able to keep her here?” Ben asked sadly.

  “No!” I said. “I mean, yes! You can! Grandpa Tom? He built the whole kitty playground at Tabby Towers. He builds great cat trees. And he said he’d build one here! For Lizzie!”

  “Okay,” Ben said, still looking sad. “But I suppose the tree will have to go in a far, quiet corner, right? I’d really hoped Lizzie could be by the front door, where people would see her. She is the restaurant’s namesake.”

  “But she can be,” I said. “The front window would be the perfect place. Cats like sunny spots. They like windows where they can watch birds and squirrels. A quiet corner wouldn’t help Lizzie. To feel safest, she needs a perch. She needs a view of all the action — that means people coming and going too. In her mind, they’re all predators, because they’re larger than she is. Anything smaller than Lizzie seems like prey to her.”

  Ben’s face brightened. “This is great news!” he said. “Okay, let’s give the cat tree a try. If it works — if Lizzie keeps her paws off the counter — you’ll have a month of free pizza.”

  “Trust me, Lizzie will never jump on the counter again,” I promised.