Amelia Bedelia looked at Skip, Joy, and Penny in dismay. She’d been so sure that Finally would lead them to the right place. But it hadn’t worked. Instead of finding a cat, they’d lost lots of time. By now Pumpkin might have wandered far away. How would they ever find her?

The patio door slid open.

“Hello? Hello?” said the woman who had opened it. She had curly white hair and glasses and smudges of flour on her purple sweater. “Can I help you? Are you looking for something?”

Amelia Bedelia nodded. “I’m sorry we came into your yard without permission,” she said. “We’re looking for a lost cat. We thought she was back here, but she’s not.”

“Oh, dear,” said the woman. “What a shame. I’m so sorry. I lost a cat myself not long ago, and I know how worried you must be. But my cat came home this afternoon. Such a surprise! Maybe your cat will do the same thing. Would you like a piece of pumpkin pie before you go on looking?”

“Yes!” said Skip.

“We should keep searching,” said Joy. “We need to find her.”

“We’ll have more energy after pumpkin pie,” said Skip. His stomach growled.

“Amelia Bedelia, what do you think?” asked Penny.

The pie smelled very good indeed.

“Maybe just a teeny-weeny slice,” said Amelia Bedelia.

Amelia Bedelia and her friends sat down at the picnic table while the woman, whose name was Mrs. Larkin, went inside. She came out again in a moment, carrying the pumpkin pie in one hand and a stack of paper plates in the other.

Two cats came outside with her, circling her legs and meowing as if they were begging for a bite of pie. “Cinnamon and Nutmeg, you silly girls!” said Mrs. Larkin. “This pie is not for you!”

Both cats were black and white and orange. One of them spotted Finally and backed away with her ears down. The other trotted right over to Finally and touched her nose to Finally’s nose. Then she rubbed her face against Finally’s cheek and purred.

“It’s Pumpkin!” yelled Amelia Bedelia. Pumpkin jumped right into Amelia Bedelia’s lap. She purred some more and nuzzled her head under Amelia Bedelia’s chin.

“Is this the cat you were looking for?” asked Mrs. Larkin.

Amelia Bedelia and her friends laughed and explained everything—how they’d found Pumpkin in a tree in the corner of their playground, how the fire department had rescued her, how they’d been looking for a home for her ever since. Now a reporter from the newspaper wanted to write a story about her. But she’d gotten lost, until Finally had finally led them right to her.

“What a story!” said Mrs. Larkin. “What an adventure!”

“And it has a happy ending,” said Penny. She reached out to pet Pumpkin—or Cinnamon—who was snuggled in Amelia Bedelia’s arms.

“We tried so hard to find a home for her,” said Skip. “And it turns out she found home for herself.”

“A perfect home—her own home!” said Joy.

“Pumpkin—I mean Cinnamon—definitely thinks it’s purrfect,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Listen to her!” Then she opened her eyes wide. “But what about Lieutenant Johnson? She wants Pumpkin—I mean Cinnamon—to be the fire station cat!”

They explained to Mrs. Larkin how Lieutenant Johnson, who had rescued Cinnamon from the tree, now wanted to adopt her.

“Well, my goodness. That certainly puts the cat among the pigeons!” said Mrs. Larkin.

Amelia Bedelia held Pumpkin tight. “Somebody pick up Nutmeg!” she said. “And hold on to Finally’s leash!”

“I’m so happy to have Cinnamon back. I can’t possibly give her away,” said Mrs. Larkin. “But I do feel bad for that nice firefighter. What a pickle! What a problem! What should we do?”

Amelia Bedelia had an idea.

The next day, Amelia Bedelia’s parents drove her to the animal shelter where they had adopted Finally. Slowly and carefully she looked at all the cats that were available. One was smoky gray . . . one was soot black . . . and one was fiery orange.

“That one,” said Amelia Bedelia. “That’s the right one!”

Amelia Bedelia and her parents explained the situation to the volunteers at the shelter. Amelia Bedelia promised to bring Lieutenant Johnson back to the shelter to meet everyone. Then she gave the animal shelter all the money that the class had raised for an ad in the paper, and they gave her the orange kitten. She sat in the back seat of the car and snuggled the cat on her lap as her parents drove her to the fire station.

Mrs. Larkin was already there, and she’d brought Cinnamon with her. So was Lydia Scoop from the newspaper. So was Mrs. Shauk. And Mr. Jack. So were Skip, Joy, Penny, Angel, Dawn, Cliff, Wade, Clay, and all the other kids from Mrs. Shauk’s class.

“Lieutenant Johnson,” said Amelia Bedelia. “We’re sorry that you can’t adopt Pumpkin—I mean Cinnamon—after all. But we think this cat is perfect for the fire station, and she needs a home. Will you adopt her instead?”

Lieutenant Johnson nodded as the other firefighters cheered.

“You bet!” Lieutenant Johnson said, and she reached out and took the orange cat from Amelia Bedelia’s arms. “She’ll be the perfect fire station cat, and I think Pumpkin is the perfect name for her. You kids really are the cat’s pajamas!” She looked at Amelia Bedelia’s long, fleecy pants and soft, fuzzy shirt. She blinked. “Wait a minute. Are you wearing . . .”

Amelia Bedelia laughed. “Yep!” she said. “My cat pajamas!”

“Picture time!” called out Lydia Scoop.

They gathered around Lieutenant Johnson. Lieutenant Johnson held up the fire station’s brand-new cat, and Lydia Scoop raised her camera high.

Everybody smiled. Even Cinnamon and Pumpkin and Finally looked as though they were smiling. But Amelia Bedelia, standing between Mrs. Larkin and Lieutenant Johnson with all her friends, had the widest smile of all.