Daddy’s Cat

On the way home, everyone was talking about how great the black kitten was.

“We need to think of a name for her,” said Kristy.

“We have a whole week to think of a name,” said Elizabeth.

I tried not to let anyone see how unhappy I was. I did not want to seem like a baby. Daddy had taken a vote and the black kitten had won. I remembered what Kristy had said. The kitten was going to belong to the whole family, not just to me.

“Are you all right, Karen? You are awfully quiet,” said Daddy on the way home.

“I am fine,” I replied. “The black kitten is just not the one I liked best.”

“I am sorry,” said Daddy. “But she is an awfully nice kitten. I think you will grow to like her.”

I did not think so, but I kept quiet. Had everyone forgotten that black cats are bad luck? And I guessed we would not be naming the kitten Pumpkin. How could a black cat be called Pumpkin?

When we got home, I sat in the den. I saw the Stoneybrook Express lying on a table and picked it up. Maybe there was another ad for kittens that we had not seen before. Maybe the black kitten would not pass her health tests. Maybe we would answer the other ad and there would be one tiger-striped kitten left. Just for us.

Maybe not. We were going to pick up the kitten next Saturday. She would probably be crabby like Boo-Boo. She would keep to herself and not want to play or be petted.

Meow!

Boo-Boo jumped up and sat on my lap. I was surprised. Boo-Boo did not usually do this. I wanted to pet him but I did not. I did not want him to run away.

Daddy sat down next to us. He petted Boo-Boo. Boo-Boo stayed. He even purred.

“So, Boo-Boo,” said Daddy. “How do you think you will like having a new kitten in the family?”

Boo-Boo flicked his tail.

“Remember, the new kitten is not taking your place. No other cat can do that. You know we love you and we always will,” said Daddy.

“You had Boo-Boo even before you had me,” I said. “You had him even before you met Mommy, right?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Daddy. “I brought Boo-Boo home from the shelter when I lived by myself. We kept each other company.”

“Then it is sad that he is getting old,” I said.

“Very sad. Boo-Boo and I are old friends. It is hard to see an old friend feeling bad,” Daddy replied.

I petted Boo-Boo very lightly. He flicked his tail and purred. Poor old Boo-Boo. Maybe he was not such a bad cat after all.

There was a phone call for Daddy. When he stood up to answer it, Boo-Boo left too.

I sat and thought for awhile. I was sorry I had said some bad things about Boo-Boo lately. I was sorry for getting so excited about the new kitten and forgetting how Boo-Boo might be feeling. I was sorry for being disloyal to Daddy’s old friend. I felt like a real meanie-mo.

But I was going to make things better with Boo-Boo and Daddy. Out of all my pets, I had picked Boo-Boo to go to my class party. That was very special. It was a good way to make up with Boo-Boo.

I knew Daddy did not think bringing Boo-Boo to the party was a good idea. But he would change his mind. This was the best honor Boo-Boo could have. And the best way for me to show Daddy how much I loved his old friend.