Piles of Pets

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Piles of Pets Page 2

by Judy Delton


  “I’d like to have one too,” said Molly. “They talk.”

  “This is Mr. Sharp,” said Mrs. Peters. “And his parrot, Sunny.”

  Now everyone roared. They looked at Sonny and pointed. “You’ve got a parrot’s name!” yelled Roger.

  “This bird’s name is spelled S-u-n-n-y,” said the expert. “Because he’s so happy.”

  But the damage was done. “Parrot Face, Parrot Face,” Roger yelled, pointing at Sonny.

  “Most birds like Sunny belong in the wild and should not be bought as pets. But Sunny was raised by humans since he was hatched. His wing is damaged, so we can’t release him back into the forest,” said Mr. Sharp.

  He told the boys and girls all about Sunny. What he ate. Where his wild relatives lived. And how his wings worked.

  “Most parrots are called Polly,” said Rachel out loud. “Just like Molly, only with a P.”

  Wasn’t it enough that the bird had Sonny’s name? thought Molly. Did Rachel have to drag in other names he could have had?

  “Most birds like seeds,” said Mr. Sharp. “And some vegetables like grated carrot. If you have a pet bird of any kind, or are putting out food for wild birds, don’t feed them peanut butter. They like the taste, but it makes their bills stick together. If their bills stick shut, they can’t eat. And then they can starve.”

  Molly wrote that down in her pet notebook. Never give a bird peanut butter, she wrote.

  Sunny fluffed out his beautiful feathers while Mr. Sharp spoke. Every once in a while the parrot said, “Sunny is a good bird.”

  The Pee Wees clapped when he did that.

  After Mr. Sharp spoke about grooming birds, he spoke about grooming dogs and cats. He used Lucky to demonstrate.

  “Always brush an animal’s fur in the direction it grows,” he said. “Not backward.”

  Lucky seemed to enjoy being brushed.

  “Here are some other tips,” he said.

  Molly got out her notebook again.

  “Never yell around animals,” he went on. “It frightens them, and it hurts their sensitive ears.”

  “All pets like fresh, clean water,” said Mr. Sharp. “If you have a pet, be sure to change the water in his or her dish often.”

  “We give our cat fresh milk,” said Mary Beth.

  “Water is better for them than any other drink,” said Mr. Sharp. “Even better than milk, which can make adult cats sick.

  “And while we are on that subject, bones are dangerous for dogs. Almost all bones. There are toys for pets to chew that will not splinter or hurt their teeth. But bones are dangerous.”

  “Dogs like bones,” said Roger in disgust.

  Mrs. Peters frowned at him.

  “It’s just like Roger to know more than an expert,” whispered Tracy.

  “Remember,” said Mr. Sharp, “if you take your animal in the car in summer, always leave the windows open if you leave it alone. Pets can die from being locked in a hot car in warm weather.”

  When Mr. Sharp was through talking, the Pee Wees filed past Sunny to get a good look at him. Roger gave him a pat on the head and Sunny gave him a peck on the hand.

  “Hey, that bird bit me!” shouted Roger, rubbing his hand.

  “He didn’t bite anyone else,” said Rachel to Roger. “He doesn’t like you.”

  Mrs. Peters thanked Mr. Sharp for coming. So did the Pee Wees. He said good-bye and so did Sunny.

  “Bye-bye,” said Sunny, all the way up the steps and out the door.

  Mrs. Peters went over the things Mr. Sharp had said. All the Pee Wees wished they had a parrot. But Molly had other things to think about. She had her home for pets on her mind.

  Homeless Pet Home

  That afternoon after the meeting, Molly went home and made some signs.

  “Can I put your phone number on my signs?” Molly asked Mary Beth over the telephone.

  “Why?” asked Mary Beth.

  “My mom might be at work,” said Molly.

  “Okay,” said Mary Beth. “I’ll take their numbers and you can call them back.”

  It was true Molly’s mother and father were both at work. Some of the time. But if Molly was to admit the real reason for using Mary Beth’s phone number, it was that she was a little bit afraid of what her mother might say about the home for homeless pets. Even if it was temporary.

  Molly made five signs. They said, WANTED: HOMELESS ANIMALS. CALL 555–4608. She drew a picture of a lost animal on each one. Then she went out and hung one on a tree in the park and one on the bulletin board in the grocery store.

  The next day at school she hung a sign on the bulletin board in the hall where all the lost-and-found notices were. She needed two more places.

  “How about the drugstore?” said Mary Beth. “There is a billboard out in front.”

  Molly ran there at lunchtime. When she passed a church, she noticed a board there. One notice said, SAVE SOULS. Well, that was surely what Molly wanted to do. The souls of lots of poor pets. She hung her last sign at the church and went home to wait, and to plan where she was going to put her guests. She might have to hide some of them just in case. In case her mother or father misunderstood. But who could complain about doing a good deed? About getting a badge for Pee Wee Scouts? Mrs. Peters herself had said Molly’s idea was a wonderful one.

  But Mrs. Peters’s other words kept coming back to her. “Molly must be sure she can find homes for the animals she takes in, in order to get her badge.”

  Well, Molly surely could do that. She would take the pets in and give them out. All as quick as one, two, three.

  On Saturday Mrs. Peters called a special meeting of the Pee Wees.

  “I had some ideas for Animals Week,” she said. “I thought it would be a good idea to keep scrapbooks of rare and unusual pets. You can watch for pictures in magazines and bring them to our meetings and we will put them all in one big scrapbook.”

  The Pee Wees cheered. They liked to collect things.

  “And since so many of you have pets, or are adopting pets, I thought we could have a pet race next Tuesday, just for fun.”

  “Yeah!” shouted the Pee Wees. They loved races too.

  “Then we can talk about what you are doing to help pets and earn your badge.”

  The Scouts helped Mr. Peters give Lucky and Tiny a bath. They scrubbed them down with antiflea soap. Then they rinsed the dogs with the hose. Before the Pee Wees could jump out of the way, Lucky and Tiny shook themselves. Water went everywhere. Onto Mr. Peters. And Mrs. Peters. And all the Pee Wees.

  Roger held his nose. “Wet dog,” he said.

  “It smells good,” said Molly. Molly liked everything about dogs. Even the smell of wet ones.

  “Hey, what kind of rare pet are you getting, Stone?” asked Roger.

  Sonny mumbled something about his baby sister and brother.

  “What kind?” taunted Roger.

  Sonny looked unhappy. “I can’t have a pet,” he cried. “My mom and dad said they have enough work with the twins.”

  “And with you,” sneered Roger.

  Molly felt sorry for Sonny.

  “You could get a real little pet,” she whispered to him. “Or something that could live outside, like ants. That wouldn’t bother your parents.”

  Sonny wiped his eyes. “I want a rare pet,” he said.

  “Ants would be rare,” said Molly. “No one else has ants for a pet. You could get one of those ant farms and watch them work.”

  “I don’t want ants,” said Sonny. “But maybe they’d let me have a worm. A worm would be a rare pet, wouldn’t it?”

  Molly didn’t like worms.

  “It would be rare,” she said. “But they are squirmy.”

  “That’s okay,” said Sonny. He dashed off to find his rare pet.

  “My pet’s going to be exotic,” said Roger. “From another country.”

  “Maybe Roger is getting a monkey or something from a jungle,” said Mary Beth to Molly on the way home.

&nbs
p; Molly didn’t care about Roger’s pet. It would probably be something big and mean like he was. Something to get a lot of attention.

  When Molly got home, a note in her mom’s handwriting on the front door said, Be back in a minute. Grocery store. But on the steps, in a box with air holes, was a kitten. It was white with orange spots. There was a note in the box.

  My name is Pumpkin, it said. I have had my shots. Please give me a home.

  Molly could not believe her good luck. She cuddled the kitten in her arms. It purred softly. Molly put a little milk in a saucer and took the kitten and the milk up to her bedroom. Then she remembered that Mr. Sharp had said to put out water for your pets, so she put out another saucer with water in it. She put a doll blanket into the box for the kitten to sleep on. Then she called Mary Beth.

  “My mom said someone called and asked for your address,” Mary Beth said. “They needed a home for a kitten because they were moving out of town. They asked lots of questions about you.”

  “He’s so cute,” said Molly. “I wish he was mine to keep forever.” She watched him sniff at the water.

  “I’ll tell everyone who calls to bring their homeless pets to you,” said Mary Beth.

  What a good friend! thought Molly.

  “I’m bringing our dog and cat to the race,” said Mary Beth. “But I don’t think they’ll win. They are too old.”

  Molly watched Pumpkin drink his water and jump back into the box. Then he went to sleep. Molly went downstairs to look for pictures of unusual animals for the scrapbook.

  She had just found a magazine when the front doorbell rang. Molly opened the door, and a little boy thrust a puppy into her arms.

  “We’ve got too many,” he said. “Our dog had puppies and we can’t keep them all. Here is a bag of Pup Chow.”

  Molly couldn’t believe her luck! She had just put the signs up and already had two temporary pets!

  She took the puppy in and gave him some food. She set a dish of water in her room next to the cat box.

  Before her parents came home, a man dropped off a bowl of twenty guppies, with their fish food. “We’ve got a million,” said the man. “Take them.”

  Molly’s room was getting crowded. She set the bowl of guppies on the floor. She put newspapers down for the puppy. Her mother would not like it if he wet on the floor or the rug.

  While she was laying the newspapers, the kitten drank out of the fishbowl and scared the guppies. They swam around and around in their bowl frantically.

  Molly sighed. The temporary pets were lots of work. I better put the guppies up high, she thought.

  Molly set the fishbowl on her dresser and the kitten jumped right up beside it!

  Molly carefully carried the bowl to the basement and put it on a table under a window, where the fish would get plenty of light.

  The doorbell rang. Molly ran up the steps and saw a birdcage at the door. Inside was a small bird that talked. The woman who held it said, “If he talks too much, just put a cover over his cage. Then he will sleep.”

  Molly talked to the bird and thanked the lady. On the way to her room she remembered Sylvester and Tweetie Pie. A bird might not want to live in the same room as a cat.

  Molly took the birdcage down to the basement and hung the cage from a hook on one of the rafters.

  “There!” she said. “I’ll come and visit you in the morning.”

  But the bird talked so much that Molly had to go down and cover his cage with her sweater. She found a carrot in the refrigerator and grated it. She put it between the bars of the cage.

  At suppertime Mr. Duff said, “I think I hear a noise in the basement.”

  “No, you don’t,” said Molly quickly. “I mean, I don’t hear anything.”

  “It’s probably the furnace,” said Mrs. Duff.

  “Or the washing machine,” said Molly. But she remembered, no one was washing.

  The next morning Molly was up early. She took the puppy out in the backyard for a run. Then she fed him and brushed him.

  She brushed the kitten and cleaned the box and got fresh water for the dishes.

  “Squawk squawk!” said the bird when Molly took her sweater off his cage. She changed the paper in the bottom of the cage and gave him some birdseed the woman had brought along. She gave him water, and then shook some fish food into the guppy bowl. They were happy to see her. They all swam over toward her and toward the fish food.

  “It’s fun having pets that are glad to see me,” she said to them. But the pets were a lot of work. “I’ll have to do this every day until they are adopted!” she said.

  At school that day she confided to Mary Beth that she really didn’t need any more pets.

  “I think you should take those signs down,” Mary Beth said. “My mom is getting tired of all the phone calls.”

  After school the girls took down the signs. Molly put up new ones in their place. FREE PETS TO GOOD HOMES, they said.

  As Molly got close to home, a little girl handed her a box with air holes in it. Molly could hear scratching and chewing. Inside the box was a little brown mouse and a green frog.

  “Oh, no!” cried Molly. “Where will I put them?”

  Molly did not think a mouse would sleep well with a kitten in the room. Molly decided to put the mouse in the bathtub in a little box. And the frog could live in the laundry tub downstairs.

  After playing with the animals and feeding them, Molly barely had time to do her homework. She fell into bed and went to sleep at once.

  “Help,” came a scream in the middle of the night. Molly jumped out of bed. She bumped into her father in the hall.

  “Help!” came the scream again. Then her mother ran from the bathroom. “There is a MOUSE in there!” she cried.

  “That’s just Mickey,” said Molly. “He’s my temporary pet.”

  Her mother looked pale. “How long will he be staying?” asked Mrs. Duff.

  “Just till I find him a home,” said Molly. “I’ll get my badge for finding him a home.”

  Molly’s parents frowned. “Maybe he can live in the garage,” said Mr. Duff. “I think I have an old hamster cage he’d like.”

  Mr. Duff took Mickey to the garage and they all went back to bed. The puppy snuggled up near Molly’s chin. His cold nose touched her cheek. She wanted to keep him so badly!

  The next morning Mrs. Duff said, “I went downstairs to put some clothes in the washer, and a green frog jumped out of the laundry tub at me.”

  “That’s Homer,” said Molly. “He’s my temporary pet.”

  “I thought that Mickey was the temporary pet!” said her mother.

  “They both are,” said Molly, seeing that she could not fool her mother into thinking she had just one temporary pet. After all, anyone could tell the difference between a mouse and a frog.

  Molly put water into the bathtub and gave Homer a swim. If none of them took a bath for a while, Homer could have his own private pool.

  But at school the next day, Molly said to Mary Beth, “I may have to drop out of school to take care of my pets.”

  “Maybe some of the Pee Wees can adopt their pets from you instead of the pound,” said Mary Beth. “Then they would be helping a pet, and so would you!”

  But on Tuesday, the day of the Pee Wee pet race, Molly found the Pee Wees already had pets. And they were not adopted from Molly’s home for homeless pets.

  A Squirmy Winner

  “Which pet are you bringing for the race?” asked Mary Beth before they left.

  “My frog,” said Molly. “He is my fastest temporary animal.”

  When the Pee Wees got to the meeting, they had all kinds of pets with them.

  The Bakers brought their dog.

  Lisa brought her bird in a cage.

  Kevin had a hamster.

  Sonny had a big worm in a shoe box filled with soil.

  Tim had a grasshopper.

  “Let’s see your pet, Roger. Where is your rare exotic pet?” asked Rachel.

 
Roger reached under the table. He took out a fishbowl.

  Everyone began to roar with laughter.

  “A goldfish!” shrieked Tim.

  “You said you were getting a jungle animal!” cried Sonny.

  “This is no ordinary fish!” said Roger. “This fish is a Siamese fighting fish!”

  The Pee Wees gathered around Roger. He held up the glass bowl that looked something like a drinking glass. It had a glass stem.

  “This fish is from the Far East,” said Roger. “This is no ordinary goldfish or guppy.”

  Molly had to admit this was not a goldfish. For one thing, it was not orange. It was dark blue and red. It had a big fanlike tail that changed color when it swished around the bowl.

  “It’s pretty,” admitted Sonny. “But it’s just a fish. It’s no tiger.”

  “His dad wouldn’t let him get a tiger,” said Kenny. “Or even a big dog. Their apartment building says NO PETS.”

  Roger turned red.

  “Well, where’s your leopard, Stone?” he said, turning to Sonny.

  Now Sonny had to admit he couldn’t have a leopard because of the twins.

  “I’m not afraid to have a leopard,” he said. “It’s just the twins. They’d be too scared. He might eat them up. Anyway, I’ve got something just as rare.”

  Sonny dug his worm out of the box.

  “Ick!” said Rachel, making a face.

  “Yuck,” said Tracy. “I hate worms.”

  “A worm’s not rare, dummy,” said Roger.

  “It’s a rare pet,” said Sonny. “My mom said so. They don’t even sell them in pet stores, they are so rare.”

  Everyone had to admit they did not sell worms in pet stores. Except for other pets to eat.

  Mrs. Peters clapped her hands.

  “I think we’ll have our races outside,” she said. “I’ll draw some chalk lines on the sidewalk.”

  “I know one pet that won’t win a race,” said Roger, pointing at Sonny’s worm.

  “His name is Sport,” said Sonny. “And he is fast.”

  “Ho ho ho,” laughed Roger.

  Sonny took Sport out of his box and put him on the grass that edged the sidewalk.

 

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