Dean and the Mushroom Weasel - страница 2

“This monstrous weasel and the swamp butterflies must be unknown beasts… Great! Now I know how they look like,” he pondered. “I think those beasts aren’t friendly.”

These thoughts made him wince and turn away in discomfort. The hammers of fear tapped lightly into his heart. He squirmed around for the rest of the night, unable to sleep. The images from his nightmares kept flashing in his eyes.

the POWER of the ham thief

“Meow!” Fluffy said in a soft, chirpy voice. He was quite chatty today. Playing with a toy mouse, he quickly became bored. Where was the challenge? His inquisitive and smart personality wasn’t satisfied. Teasing dogs was real fun! It was just the thing that helped him stay sharp.

Fluffy was very proud of his origin and of his ancestors. Being asked about his roots, he would say that there were counts in the family. According to his cat’s passport, his name was Akbar. It sounded really great. It was a respectful name for a proud cat. To his disappointment…everyone called him Fluffy. He didn’t like this name. It wasn’t an appropriate name, especially, for such a graceful and honorable cat as he was.

Fluffy was hungry. He checked his plate. It was empty. The cat looked around and said, “Fortune favors the bold!” He darted to the left corner of the room to Dean’s bowl. It was full of ham. Fluffy the Cat was amazed.

“It isn’t in his nature. The dog always eats ham on the spot.”

“What are you doing, fraidy-cat?” Daisy barked at him.

“Mind your own business!” Fluffy the Cat growled. “You shouldn’t worry about what I’m doing. Curiosity killed a cat.” Daisy looked down her nose at him and said, “Behave yourself! Stealing food is not what earls do!” She took her little backpack, and left, heading straight to the beach.

“As you name the boat, so shall it float!” Fluffy thought fishing strips of ham out of Dean’s bowl. Akbar would never become a ham thief, but Fluffy behaved as a scruffy alley cat in search of a meal.

The next day Fluffy spent the early part of that morning under the sofa. Dean’s behavior confirmed his suspicions and fears that he had known about the stolen ham, anyway.

Dean shuffled across the kitchen. He looked gloomy.

Fluffy the Cat watched his body language.

“Something is wrong with him. I must know what’s going on! Out of mere curiosity. There he was! Not a meow!” Fluffy whispered and sucked in a harsh, deep breath. Fluffy the Cat felt a little lightheaded. Curiosity won out over fear, and he sprang from cover with a question, “Where are you going?”