Who ever heard of a cat that didn’t eat birds? The house people had picked me out of my litter to be a mouser. Callie was getting too old for the job. So it was mine. But I didn’t plan on getting dive-bombed by a mockingbird building her nest…or adopting the baby who fell out. No joke! I’m a cat, but I do not eat birds. Mice, yes. Birds, no. Flea – that’s what I named her – couldn’t even fly. She was so scared when she toppled onto my head that she said, “Eat me…it’s quicker than starving to death.” She was pathetic. I had to help her. The first step was protecting Flea – and me – from the monster rats in the barn (that’s saying a mouthful!) and Bullsnake under the woodpile. Next, Callie and I had to teach Flea to fly. After all, how could she stay up North with us when her bird family was flying to Florida. I’m not a Florida kind of cat. It’s just too hot for us furry types. I know I’ll miss my Flea. But she’ll come back – after she’s seen the world!
Nothing yet! Let Bill Wallace know that you want to hear from them about their book.
Nothing yet! Let Carol Wallace know that you want to hear from them about their book.
More than halfway there—keep going!
Just the barebones.
Are you the author or illustrator? Claim your book.