Chapter 23

Molly was miffed.

Just because a few katts can sometimes fall successfully from high places doesn’t mean any of them like doing it.

Also, katts have eyes built for hunting. They give up a little in depth perception so they can concentrate on motion detection. You need depth perception when you’re falling.

“Are you okay?” the dogg asked, sheepishly.

Molly didn’t answer. She wasn’t hurt. But her pride sure was.

She pointed dramatically (which, as a future actress, is how she did almost everything) at the mountain peak in the distance.

“You’re right,” said the dogg, wagging his tail, forgetting all about the horrible trick he’d just played on Molly. “We should hike to the mountain. It’s a great day for a hike or a nature walk, which is basically the same thing as a hike, wouldn’t you agree?”

Molly ignored Oscar and started walking. Fast. The dogg trotted after her.

“Oh, I see. You’re not speaking to me. That’s okay. I’m not speaking to you, either. I mean, why should I? You’re a katt, I’m a dogg. We have nothing in common so what do we have to talk about? Bones? Nope. You’d rather scratch up furniture. Rawhide chews? Forget about it. You’d rather wrestle a toy stuffed with kattnip. Hey, what is kattnip, anyhow? Is there katt in it? If so, that’s kind of weird, don’t you think? A katt treat made out of katts …”

Molly picked up her pace. For someone not speaking to her, the dogg sure did like to yap. He was probably part lapdogg. Molly’s father told her that teeny-tiny lapdoggs yip and yap all the time. And then they put bows in their hair. Ridiculous creatures!

“It’s okay we’re not speaking to each other,” said the dogg. “I like the sounds of silence. Especially out here in nature. I can hear a stream streaming. And crickets chirping. And the wind whipping through the treetops. It’s like a whistle. A dogg whistle. That means I can hear it but you can’t.”

Enough, thought Molly. She spun around.

“All I can hear is you!” she hissed.

“Ooooh! Hello, Molly. Does this mean you’re speaking to me again?”

“No.”

“But you are. You’re speaking to me right now.”

“No. I am not.”

“Yes, you are! You just did!”

Molly was about to say something but she realized that would give the dogg something to say.

So, she simply turned on her heel and hurried down the darkening trail.

You know what else I like to listen to? Leaves. The way they crunch under your paws. And twigs make good noises, too, especially when you step on them and they snap. Rocks don’t make much noise. Unless one bonks you in the head …; Yap, yap, yap, yap, PAWS yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, SNAP yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, ROCKS yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, …

“I’m glad we had that little chat,” said the dogg. “Now we can just listen to the birds chirp. Although, to be honest, they might be chirping about you. I don’t think birds like katts. I think birds hate katts even more than doggs do. I mean, at least katts don’t eat doggs. Birds? Woof! You guys always have feathers sticking out of your mouths …”

Molly’s ears shot up.

And not because of anything Oscar said.

She heard a low rumbling growl, off in the underbrush to her right.

She whipped around and saw it.

It was lying on a fallen tree trunk, smiling and drooling and rubbing its front paws together.

“My, my, my. A katt and a dogg. My favorite combination platter.”

It was the mountain lion!