Читать книгу National Geographic Kids Chapters: Terrier Trouble! - Candice Ransom - Страница 7

Atticus peeks out from behind a computer screen. Credit 5

One December day, the doorbell rang. Atticus was sitting on a windowsill. He had never heard a doorbell before. He raced into Candice’s home office. His eyes were wide with alarm. “It’s just the doorbell,” she told him. “It means we have company. Be on your best behavior, okay?” Atticus ran down the steps to the door so fast, his little legs were a blur.

Atticus’s nose was pressed against the door as Candice tried to open it. Candice and Frank’s neighbors stood on the porch. It was Michelle White and her three children: Gavin, Sydney, and Maren. Sydney held a fuzzy green mouse. “We’re here to see the new kitty!” Michelle told Candice. “We brought him a present.”

Since bringing Atticus home, Candice and Frank had only had a few guests. Candice wondered how Atticus would react to the children who were so excited to meet him. Gavin and Sydney got down on the floor to be closer to him. He sniffed their hands and feet. Then Gavin started to run down the hall. He wanted Atticus to play. This was a game Atticus knew! He raced after the boy. Meanwhile, Sydney ran in the other direction. Atticus was delighted to have two people to chase! He slid around the corner, his hind claws scrabbling before he hit the wall. Everyone laughed.

Gavin tossed the green mouse. Atticus pounced on it and kicked it with his back feet. “He’s so cute!” said Sydney. Candice crossed her fingers. A fun game often turned rough with Atticus. She didn’t quite trust him yet, especially around children.

Maren, who was only five, stood beside her mother. She squealed when Atticus leaped up in the air with the fuzzy mouse. Atticus stopped and stared at Maren. He trotted closer. Maren wanted to pet the soft kitten. But Candice knew that look in her kitty’s eyes. When his pupils grew big, that meant watch out.

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The ancient Egyptians believed cats were sacred (sounds like SAY-kred) animals. Only pharaohs (sounds like FAIR-ohs), or rulers, were allowed to own them. The Egyptians worshipped the cat goddess Bastet. Statues and paintings of her showed her as half woman, half cat.

Bastet’s temple had a huge colony of cats. Cats that had died were brought there to be wrapped in linen sheets. They were buried as mummies. Sometimes mummy mice were buried with them.

Maren sensed danger, too. She ducked behind her mother’s legs. Candice scooped up Atticus. “No!” she scolded him. “No biting!” She explained to her neighbor that Atticus had a problem with biting. “I don’t want him to hurt anyone,” she said.

Candice had prevented disaster. Afterward, she read books on cat behavior. She looked up information about cats on the Internet. How could she stop Atticus from biting? Putting him in the laundry room for a “time-out” didn’t work. Atticus didn’t remember what he had done wrong. Yelling at him didn’t work.

Then Candice read that walking away from a misbehaving cat breaks the power the cat thinks he has. If there’s no one to bite, the cat has to stop. The next time Atticus acted up, she did just that. She walked away. An hour later, when she entered the kitchen, Atticus sprang at her. He bit her knee and dashed away.

“Our cat holds a grudge,” Candice told Frank when he came home. “He remembered I walked away from him, and he bit me later. It’s like he has to have the last word. Or, in his case, the last bite.” “Maybe this is a phase, and he’ll outgrow it,” Frank said.

Did You Know?

Cats are known for their excellent balance. When cats walk, they move both left feet, and then both right feet.

But a few days later, Frank reached down to pet Atticus. The cat wrapped both paws around Frank’s arm and bit his wrist, hard. Blood spurted from the wound. Frank’s arm swelled, and his hand felt numb. Candice washed and wrapped Frank’s wrist. This was serious.

She and her husband had worked with Atticus, but he was getting worse, not better. Atticus would have to go back to the animal shelter. He would have to be labeled a biter to warn families with children who might want to adopt him.

The next day, Candice put Atticus in the cat carrier. She drove to the animal shelter. But she didn’t go in right away. In the parking lot, Candice cried. All her life, she had rescued cats from shelters and given them good homes. Now she was taking one back. In his carrier, Atticus looked around quietly. Most cats hate riding in cars. Often, they meow pitifully. But Atticus hadn’t made a peep.

Candice got out and took Atticus inside the shelter. The director hurried over. Candice explained that she was bringing Atticus back because he wouldn’t stop biting. The director looked at Atticus. “Hmm,” she said. “Black cats aren’t very popular, but he is very cute.”

“Really? I love black cats.” Candice said sadly. “I wish he didn’t bite.” The director told her the shelter didn’t have room for Atticus right then. She suggested Candice bring him back in three days.

Back home, Atticus seemed to change. He became the sweetest cat. He didn’t break anything. He didn’t scratch or bite. He purred like a motorboat in Candice’s lap. She couldn’t believe he had changed.

When Frank came home from work that evening, he saw Atticus. “Weren’t you taking him back today?” he asked. “He’s been so good,” Candice said. “Maybe driving him to the shelter scared him.”