Kittens!

When I went downstairs for breakfast on Friday morning, Sam and Charlie had their noses buried in the Stoneybrook Express.

“Is our kitten in there?” I asked.

Sam shook the paper. “Nope. No kittens here.”

Sam likes to make jokes.

“Is there an ad for kittens?” I asked.

Just then Daddy entered the kitchen.

“We will look at the paper together after dinner tonight. If we start looking now, we will be late for work or school,” he said.

“But what if there are kittens and someone calls before we do?” I asked.

“Then it was not meant to be,” said Daddy. “What is meant to be now is for you to eat breakfast and get to school.”

Oh, well. I did not need the kitten for the party. I was bringing Boo-Boo. I ate my Krispy Krunchies and went to the school bus stop.

All day I thought about the kitten who was going to be Pumpkin. I wondered what he was doing. Was he eating lunch when I was? Was he playing with his brothers and sisters while I was on the playground with Hannie and Nancy?

I daydreamed most of the afternoon. When I got home, I looked for the Stoneybrook Express but could not find it. Finally it was dinnertime. I ate as fast as I could.

“Should I get the paper now?” I asked, swallowing my last bite of spaghetti.

“I will get it as soon as everyone has finished eating,” replied Daddy.

A couple of minutes later Daddy got the paper. Sam and Charlie had circled two ads for litters of kittens.

Elizabeth called the first number, but all the kittens had been adopted already.

“I knew we should have called first thing in the morning!” I said.

Elizabeth called the second number. When she finished, she gave us the thumbs-up sign.

“The woman who placed the ad is Mrs. Cooper. She just got home from work and our call was the first one she answered,” she said when she hung up the phone. “We can go see the kittens in the morning.”

I could hardly wait! I counted kittens to fall asleep.

*  *  *

I saw kittens in my dreams at night. I saw them in my cereal bowl in the morning.

At nine o’clock on Saturday, we drove to Mrs. Cooper’s house to see the litter.

“Look how cute they are!” I said.

Six kittens were playing in a box. Four were gray. One was black. And one was the orange tiger-striped kitten I had been hoping for!

“We will call you Pumpkin!” I said as if I had just thought of it.

I picked up the striped kitten and held him to my cheek. His paws were tiny and his eyes were big.

“Look, he is the cutest of all,” I said.

But no one was looking at Pumpkin. Everyone was in a circle around Kristy. She was holding another one of the kittens. It was the black one.

“She is friendly and playful,” I heard Daddy say.

The next thing I knew, Daddy was taking a vote.

“Whoever votes for the black kitten, say ‘Aye,’ ” he said.

There were seven “ayes” and one “me.”

“We will take this black kitten,” said Daddy.

“She is twelve weeks old and will have all her shots and health tests by next week,” said Mrs. Cooper. “If you come back next Saturday, you can take your kitten home.”

Before we left, I kissed Pumpkin on his warm head and put him gently back in the box. I was so disappointed.

Splat. A tear fell on his tiger-striped head.