I peeked down the hallway. Grandpa Tom’s door was still closed. I couldn’t believe he’d slept through that shouting match. But he always took his hearing aids out at night.
Now I headed past his door and downstairs to Tabby Towers. I’d clean litter boxes and kitty condos until Bootsie arrived. The busier I was, the faster time would fly.
At last, in the middle of the morning, Pam and Bootsie arrived.
Grandma Kit and I were still busy in the hotel when the doorbell rang. We made sure the guests’ condo doors were shut tightly. We never leave guests outside their condos if we’re not there to watch them.
I ran to the front door and threw it open. Pam grinned and hugged me. She handed me Bootsie’s carrier.
Grandma Kit headed to the car with Pam to gather Bootsie’s things.
“Hi, Bootsie!” I said through the little door on the carrier. “My sweet girl! I can’t believe you’re here!”
She saw me and started to cry — quick, quiet, sad meows, over and over.
I threw open the carrier door, grabbed her, and hugged her tightly. I buried my face in her fur. She smelled like soap.
She rolled over in my arms and lay there like a baby. I rocked her. She began to purr.
“Now we’re happy,” I said. “Come on, let’s show everyone how much you’ll love Tabby Towers. Let’s prove how great you can get along with the other cats. All right?”
I carried her to the kitchen door and peeked inside. Scruffy was sound asleep in his bed. His back faced us.
Good, I thought. Scruffy won’t see Bootsie. I had a strong feeling he wouldn’t be nice to her. I’d make sure their paths wouldn’t cross.
I tiptoed past Scruffy’s bed and quietly entered the cat hotel. Softly, I shut the door behind us.
Then I held Bootsie right side up. “Look at the wonderful playground you’ll get to play in,” I said. “See the cat trees and the scratching posts? See the big rugs hanging on the walls? You can climb right up them and jump to those high shelves. Or you can jump to that big rope. You can walk across it, like a tightrope walker in the circus. You’ll have so much fun here!”
Bootsie purred and rubbed her cheek against mine. My heart leaped like a kitten on a toy.
I carried her to the big window at the rear of the room. “See the barn? See the chicken coop? Look at those pretty rolling hills! And that meadow filled with pretty flowers! You can sit here for hours and watch the chickens and Cheesecake the cow. You’ll see birds and mice and snakes. You’ll never be bored!”
Bootsie purred again.
“I just knew you’d love it!” I cried. “Let’s go see your kitty condo. There’s a lot of room to play in there too. You’ll be so cozy and happy!”
I headed toward the row of kitty condos. I turned sideways so Bootsie wouldn’t see the other guests — and for a very good reason. I knew it’s always important to introduce cats slowly. They never forget a bad first meeting.
I sidestepped toward Bootsie’s condo in the far corner. I hugged her tightly to my chest. She couldn’t see the other cats. But she must’ve heard or smelled them.
It all happened so fast I couldn’t stop her. She climbed up my arm, her body stiffened, and her back bowed. With a low, angry growl, she jumped onto my shoulder and sprang at Child’s condo.
I spun around. Everything happened in a split second. Bootsie’s claws grabbed Child’s screen door. Bootsie hung from the screen and hissed at Child.
Child backed into a corner of his condo and hissed back.
Then Bootsie spit at Child. Child spit back!
The fur on both of the long-haired cats seemed to double in size. It was a furry face-off! I’d never seen anything like it!
“Bootsie!” I cried. “What are you doing? Calm down! Calm down!”
Chapter 5
Boots Become Gloves
Bootsie did not calm down.
She kept hanging on Child’s screen door and hissing at him. And Child kept hissing right back at Bootsie.
I couldn’t believe my sweet, gentle Bootsie was acting so mean. I didn’t even know she had meanness in her!
One thing I did know: I wasn’t supposed to touch an angry cat. Ever. I could get bitten or clawed very badly.
But I wasn’t thinking straight at that moment. I grabbed Bootsie and pulled her off Child’s condo door. I rushed her to the big window and faced the farmyard.
“Shhh,” I whispered. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Just look outside at the nice chickens.”
Bootsie shook all over. Her heart pounded.
I was so glad that her claws hadn’t cut me when I’d grabbed her. “Of course you’d never hurt me, would you?” I whispered in her ear and rocked her. “You are my gentle girl, aren’t you? You forgot that for a minute, right?”
I kept rocking her. Soon she stopped shaking. Her heartbeat slowed.
Now she lay upside-down again in my arms, cradled like a doll. But she didn’t purr. She looked across the room at the row of kitty condos. Her tail hung down and started to wag.
Uh-oh, I thought. I grew worried again. Here’s why: In the dog world, wagging tails mean happiness or excitement. In the cat world, a low-hanging, wagging tail means the cat is upset.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, rocking her more. “Everything is going to be fine. You’ll make friends here. Soon you’ll really love it.”
The moment I said that, Bootsie looked straight at me. Her front leg swung back then swung forward, full force. Her paw hit me, right across my face!
My glasses flew across the room, hit the wall, and landed on the floor.
“Bootsie!” I cried, dropping her onto Grandpa Tom’s rocking chair.
Bootsie had never raised a paw at anyone in her life! Certainly not me!
I picked up my glasses and put them back on. One side sat higher than the other.
“Bootsie!” I cried again. “What’s wrong with you? You bent my glasses! My new glasses. They cost a lot of money! How could you hit me? That was a very bad thing to do.”
Bootsie looked away. She licked her front paw, the one that had struck me.
Suddenly her paws didn’t look like boots anymore. They looked like boxing gloves. And Bootsie sure could box!
My nose hurt. For the second time that morning, I felt like crying.
Then I remembered something I’d read about cats: If they can’t fight a cat they’re angry at, they’ll fight the closest living thing. It’s called sideways anger. Bootsie had boxed sideways — at me.
I sighed. “I understand, Bootsie. I really do,” I said. “But you have to calm down and be nice. Then you and I can be together for the whole summer. Okay?”
I pet her head, and she purred.
“Good,” I said, picking her up. “Come on. Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll give you some raw eggs, straight from the chickens. And cream! Straight from Cheesecake the cow! Would you like that? Huh? I bet those tasty treats will make you totally love it here.”
I carried Bootsie into the kitchen. Pam and Grandma Kit sat at the table, sipping tea. They looked at us and smiled.
“So, how does Bootsie like her new condo and the other cats?” Grandma Kit asked.
“Um…,” I said, chewing my lip. I really didn’t want to lie to Grandma Kit. I couldn’t say everything was fine when my nose still hurt. My feelings still hurt too.
But I couldn’t tell the truth either. If I did, Pam would take Bootsie straight back to the city. I couldn’t let that happen.
Just then, Bootsie’s body stiffened in my arms. She looked over my shoulder, in the direction of Scruffy’s bed.
Oh no, I thought. I turned around slowly.
Scruffy was awake. And he was staring right at Bootsie.
She was staring at him too.
Their tails hung low and began to wag. Their backs
bowed. Their fur stood on end.
Bootsie hissed and spit at Scruffy.
Scruffy hissed and spit at Bootsie.
Then my gentle, sweet cat sprang out of my arms and shot straight at Scruffy.
“Bootsie, NO!” I cried.
Chapter 6
Cat-Paw Cuff
The two angry cats went nose-to-nose. They kept hissing and spitting at each other.
Pam and Grandma Kit gasped. They jumped off their chairs.
I tried to grab Bootsie.
“No, Tabitha!” Grandma Kit warned. “Never come between two fighting cats!”
She grabbed a newspaper off the table and folded it in half. She dashed over and held the newspaper between the two spitting cats.
“This should break up the fight,” she said.
But Bootsie reached around the newspaper and boxed Scruffy right on the mouth!
Scruffy meowed and dove under the oven.
“Bootsie!” I cried, snatching her up.
“My, my, my!” Pam cried. “Sweet Bootsie cuffed another cat! Right on the kisser!”
I started to back out of the room. Pam shook her head sadly at me.
Grandma Kit sighed. “That’s it,” she said. “Tabitha, you need to say goodbye to Bootsie. She simply can’t stay here. It wouldn’t be healthy for her or the other cats.”
No! I thought and rushed out of the kitchen.
I hurried through the main floor and up the stairs. With every step, I felt more hope drain away.
I hurried to my room and shut the door. Bootsie leaped out of my arms and landed on my dresser. Her tail began to wag.
“Well, I’m upset too, Bootsie!” I groaned. “I don’t want to be away from you all summer. Even though you’re not acting anything like my nice cat. What are we going to do?”
Someone knocked on my door.
Oh no, I thought. It’s Pam, coming to take Bootsie away!
“Not yet!” I cried. “I haven’t even had a chance to say goodbye!”
My door flew open. It was Alfreeda.
“Goodbye?” she laughed. “We haven’t said hello yet!”
Without warning, the hair rose on top of my head and at the back of my neck.
“Would you please go away?” I hissed. “This is my room, my space. Can’t you see that I need to be alone right now?”
Chapter 7
Leave Me Alone!
What was happening to me? Those were fighting words, and they shocked me the second they flew out of my mouth. I’d never said anything mean, to anyone!
But I couldn’t stand it anymore. Alfreeda was like an annoying puppy that wouldn’t leave me alone.
And I really needed to be alone just then. I had to think hard. I had to come up with a good plan quickly — a way to keep Bootsie at the farm, with me, all summer.
The problem was, Alfreeda wasn’t moving. I narrowed my eyes and stared at her.
She stared back.
I refused to blink.
Alfreeda did too.
My eyes stung. A tear rolled down my cheek. Still, I didn’t blink.
Neither did Alfreeda.
Pam called up the stairs, “Tabby? Tabby, are you up there?”
Alfreeda and I blinked at exactly the same time. I put a finger to my lips to tell her to be quiet. She nodded.
I didn’t answer Pam. Bootsie jumped off the dresser and rubbed against my leg. She started to purr, and I picked her up.
“Tabby?” Pam called again. “Are you and Bootsie upstairs? Come on down. I’ve taken her things to the car. I’m sorry, but she and I need to leave now.”
I put my finger to my lips again. Alfreeda nodded again. Bootsie stopped purring.
Pam’s flip-flops slapped back to the kitchen. “I don’t know. Maybe they went outside,” she said to Grandma Kit. “Let’s take a look.”
The back door opened and shut.
“This way,” I whispered to Alfreeda.
I tiptoed to the end of the hall and up the attic stairs. Alfreeda followed. We went into the attic, and I shut the door behind us.
“What’s going on?” Alfreeda asked quietly.
I sighed and told her the whole story. It took about a minute, start to finish.
“So,” I finished, “when Pam and Grandma Kit find us up here, I’ll have to kiss Bootsie goodbye. Pam might bring her for visits during July and August. But the visits won’t be often enough. Bootsie is my pet! My best friend! Two weeks away from her has been bad enough.”
“Wow,” Alfreeda said. “That’s really sad. No wonder you’ve acted so catty this morning. Put her down.”
“Huh?” I said.
“Put Bootsie down,” Alfreeda said. “Help me push this desk in front of the door. Pam and your grandma will never be able to get in.”
“Okay!” I set Bootsie on the floor, and Alfreeda and I got busy.
We piled a few boxes on top of the desk. We pushed a heavy dresser and two old chairs against it too.
“They’ll never be able to open the door,” Alfreeda said.
“No, they really won’t,” I agreed. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Alfreeda and I sat in the chairs and waited for the battle to begin. Our backs faced the door. We had a wide view of the huge attic.
We heard Pam and Grandma Kit calling in the farmyard, “Tabby! Tabitha!”
We watched Bootsie tiptoe around every part of the room.
First, she batted balls of yarn out of a small basket. Then, she scratched her claws on an old rug. Next, she dug into a large basket filled with winter hats and gloves.
“You know,” Alfreeda said quietly, “no girls my age live anywhere near me. Not one. That’s why I was so excited when I heard you’d be staying at your grandparents’ place all summer. My brother, Alfie? He drives me crazy. I really can’t believe a girl my age is right next door now. I had hoped I could hang out over here a lot. To get away from Alfie. And, you know, to make a new friend.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry I said those mean things.”
“And I’m sorry I called Bootsie a crybaby,” Alfreeda said.
“That’s okay,” I said. “She was crying a lot.”
“Of course she was crying,” Alfreeda said. “She missed you.”
Alfreeda smiled at me. I smiled back.
We watched Bootsie dive into a deep box filled with rag dolls and doll clothes. When the silly cat came back out, she had a doll hat on her head. Alfreeda and I laughed.
“She’s having fun up here,” Alfreeda said.
“She is!” I agreed.
Tall shelves lined the walls. The shelves were filled with books, straw hats, and empty vases. Several ladders leaned against the shelves.
Bootsie climbed one of the ladders. She moved across a top shelf, then leaped to a wooden beam near the roof.
With her usual excellent balance, she crept across the beam to the far wall. She sat on the beam and peered out a small window.
Right outside the window, a dove sat in a nest. Bootsie peered at the bird as if she were watching the best movie ever made.
Just then, footsteps pounded on the attic stairs. The doorknob turned. Of course, the door didn’t open. Not with all that weight piled in front of it.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Tabby?” Pam said in her firm nanny voice. “Open up.”
“No more foolishness, Tabitha,” Grandma Kit said. “Bootsie needs to go back to the city with Pam. And I need to get back to work in the hotel. Come out — now.”
Chapter 8
The Purr-Fect Plan
Seconds passed. I didn’t say anything to Pam or Grandma Kit.
I hated acting rude to them. My heart wouldn’t stop pounding.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Boo
tsie. And she couldn’t take her eyes off the dove outside the window. It seemed that Bootsie could sit there forever, happily watching that songbird.
“This could be Bootsie’s territory!” I said, snapping my fingers. “Scruffy never comes up here. This isn’t part of his territory at all!”
“Cool!” Alfreeda nodded excitedly.
I pointed across the room.
“Those high shelves?” I said. “They could be cleared off. Bootsie would have a blast climbing to all the high places. She’d love the piles of old clothes and blankets and rag dolls. She could sleep in these cozy old chairs. She could spend hours looking out that little window at the farmyard below.”
“Yeah,” Alfreeda said. “And we could find more scratching posts for her. And bring in lots of cat toys. She’d love it up here!”
“And she wouldn’t have to share the space with any other cats,” I said.
“I’ll help you turn this attic into a super-fun kitty playground,” Alfreeda offered.
“Thanks,” I said with a grin. “That would be great. Just great!”
Ten minutes later, we’d pushed the furniture away, opened the door, and shared the plan.
Grandma Kit loved the idea. Pam thought it was a good one too.
The four of us carried Bootsie’s things to the attic, then Pam hugged me goodbye.
“Bye to you, Bootsie!” Pam called.
But Bootsie didn’t take her eyes off that dove, not for a second.
Alfreeda and I spent all afternoon turning the attic into a purr-fect kitty playground.
First, we brought in a big old log with branches. We put one end in a large pot and turned it into a cat tree.
Next, we folded a lot of colorful paper birds and hung them in the tree. Bootsie would have a blast boxing those.
Then we hung a rug on the wall for Bootsie to climb. We also cleared off high shelves and put cozy kitty beds on the highest spots.
Boxing Bootsie Page 2
