SO-NICE CAT FOR SALE

The bat and the pigeon worked all afternoon setting up their state-of-the-art squirrel repellent system, but they had to wait until the sun went down to put Megabat’s no-more-cat plan into action.

“In any minute,” Megabat whispered. The pair was perched on top of the porch light. Almost on cue, the back door opened and Daniel’s father stepped out holding a bag of garbage.

Megabat nudged Birdgirl and pointed down with his foot. She understood perfectly. With one smooth swipe of her wing, she pushed the snow off the top of the doorframe.

“Whaaaaa!?” Daniel’s father shouted as the snow hit him in the back of the neck and slid down his bathrobe. He did a hopping dance, trying to shake it out. Here was their chance! Silent as shadows, Megabat and Birdgirl swooped through the open door and into the house.

Birdgirl—who wasn’t usually allowed inside—followed Megabat through the kitchen, past the darkened dining room and into the living room. Megabat landed on the computer desk in the far corner. So far, so good. Only, when he looked around, Birdgirl was gone.

“Coo-woo!”

It took him a second to figure out why.

“Birdgirl!” he whispered. The pigeon had been distracted by the little shelf over the fireplace. Megabat couldn’t exactly blame her. It was his favorite part of the living room too, especially since Daniel’s mother had set it up to look like a tiny Christmas village, complete with fake snow and small houses that lit up from the inside. The village wasn’t what had the pigeon’s attention, though. She was busy looking at herself in the mirror over the mantel.

She tilted her head this way and that, as if trying to catch her own best angle, then pecked at her reflection and preened her feathers before admiring herself again.

There was no denying it: Birdgirl was a pretty pigeon. But they didn’t have time for preening!

“La-la-la-la, pa-rump-a-pum-pummm.” Daniel’s father had already come back from garbage duty. He was walking through the house, singing and switching off lights. Any second now he’d pass through the living room on his way upstairs.

“Birdgirl!” Megabat whispered again.

At the sound of his voice, Priscilla, who’d been hiding underneath the big armchair, emerged. Megabat saw the cat’s eyes lock onto the pigeon. She crept along, low to the ground. Her big, fluffy tail twitched this way and that. When she reached the floor near the mantelpiece, her back end began to wiggle in preparation for a pounce.

“Oh no. Don’t yours dare!” Megabat said firmly. He’d seen cats hunt birds and squirrels in the yard before. He knew all too well what she had in mind.

“The drum-mer boy blah-blah,” sang Daniel’s dad, getting closer. “Pa-rump-a-pum-pummmm.”

Megabat had no time to lose. He swooped onto the mantel to protect his beloved. “Birdgirl is not being a cat snack!” he muttered as he flew. He expected to land softly on the blanket of pretend snow, somewhere between the tiny library and the little post office, but he didn’t know about the electrical wires hidden underneath. One of them caught in his foot as he came to a skidding stop, and the entire village shifted, as if it had been rocked by an earthquake.

Birdgirl took off into the air as miniature streetlights toppled, houses collided and a ceramic snowman went flying off the edge and shattered on the floor, right next to where Priscilla was sitting.

“Huh?” Daniel’s dad said. His footsteps had stopped in the dining room.

“Hiding!” Megabat gasped.

Seconds later, Daniel’s dad came into the living room and took in the scene: the broken snowman, the shaken village and the startled cat who was dashing back underneath the armchair. Fortunately, he completely missed Megabat, who had hopped into a small wooden sleigh and borrowed a hat from a nearby Santa doll as a disguise.

“You!” Daniel’s father said accusingly to the cat.

Daniel’s mother ran down the stairs. “Oh no,” she said. “What did she break now?”

“Your favorite snowman,” he reported.

Daniel’s mother reached under the chair and pulled out the cat. “Bad cat,” she said, tapping Priscilla softly on the nose.

The cat, who was hanging miserably in Daniel’s mother’s arms, gave Megabat a bewildered look—no doubt disappointed there would be no pigeon treat that night.

“It’s a good thing you’re family now,” she said. “I suppose we can forgive you one more time.” Then, even though she was angry, she kissed the cat on the top of the head.

Megabat didn’t dare move a muscle. In fact, he barely breathed for the long minutes it took Daniel’s parents to clean up the broken snowman, turn off the lights and head upstairs carrying the cat.

“Huh,” Megabat said indignantly, once they’d gone. “Nonefair! When Megabat breakings things, mine’s sent to the cold shed. When hers gets in trubble, hers gets kissy-kisses.”

There was a rustling in the branches of the Christmas tree as Birdgirl—who had concealed herself between two decorations shaped like peace doves—emerged.

“Coo-woo,” she said, tilting her head, as if to remind Megabat that, actually, he’d been the one to break the snowman.

“Yours is missing the pointy.” Megabat sighed. “It’s not being about who brokened the snowman. It’s being about nonefairness. Coming on. Let’s be selling that no-good, bird-hunting cat.” Megabat felt more certain than ever that it was the right thing to do.

The ingenious plan had come to him when he’d remembered how Daniel’s mother had written a little story on the computer about the blue cabinet and the mostly broken sewing machine. Daniel had written one too, after he’d decided to sell his old bike. Megabat had helped.

They’d done it by using a special website for selling old stuff.

The very next day, a man with a van and a lady with a truck came and got the things. And, even better, they’d paid Daniel and his mother money before they took them away! Daniel had used his share to buy a brand-new Lego set for them to play with.

Writing their ad took all night—with Megabat sounding out the words and tapping the keyboard, and Birdgirl working the mouse—especially because they had to do a few drafts to get it just right.

Trubble Kat for Sael

Breakings things. Allweez hiding. No fun.

Mite eats yer bird.

$1.00

Birdgirl had shaken her head. Megabat sighed, but he knew she was right. When Daniel sold his bike, their story didn’t talk about how the bell was rusty and the handlebars jiggled. Instead, they told about its bright red color and how fast it went. Things that were true, with the not-so-good parts left out. He erased the words and started over.

Trubble Kat for Sael

Meedium sized. Freshlee washed.

Eats stink treets. Tastes hairee.

$1.00

The new story was definitely better, but according to Birdgirl, it still wasn’t good enough. Megabat grumbled as he hit Delete, but even he had to admit that the third story was sure to sell the cat—even if the last bit wasn’t exactly true.

Purdy Trubble Kat for Sael

Fluffee. Fancee. Pure of bread.

So nice.

$1.00

Finally, just as the sun was coming up, they hit the Publish button. Then they waited by the door. When Daniel’s mother went out for the morning paper, Megabat and Birdgirl made their escape and went back to roost in the shed after a job well done.