Princess the Cat Saves the Farm: Princess the Cat, #2

By John Heaton

Book Two in the Princess the Cat Series.

Princess the Cat meets farm animals while on vacation in the country. Enemies threaten the farm. When Princess encounters a long lost friend, she learns that more is at stake than just the farm. Entangled in a knotted yarn of lies, can Princess win the trust of the farm animals to save the farm, and even the world?

A fun to read chapter book for 3-6 graders full of animals that will make you laugh. Perfect for pet lovers, animal lovers, cat lovers, and even cat haters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Flannel and Flashlight Press
• Release date: Mar 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386884422

Book preview

1

C lean your rooms! the big woman person barks to the three children. Make your bed. Vacuum. Clean the toilet .

Only the big man person has left my house for the day. The children usually leave the house for something they call school. Something is different today.

My people clean like this when important people come to visit. I like it when they clean my house, my litter box, and Max’s fur. Max’s fur is mangy, and I don’t like it mixing with my fur in my own territory. I don’t like that my people fail to consult with me about potential guests. The guests never bring me gifts. Most people would come from distant lands to hear my wisdom.

I peer out from under the buffet in the kitchen to behold the chaos. Max has fun with this. Almost a fully-grown orange fluff-ball cat, his brain didn’t grow with the rest of his body. He plays with any toy within reach. The children people think this is fun, but they eventually yell at him to stop messing up their organized piles. They are getting serious about cleaning the house; the big woman person even opens the attic.

The attic is the only place in my house where mice can hide from me. I still haven’t managed to find my way up there, but I’m not too offended. My people hardly know how to get up there, either. The children sneak up there around Christmas time, but I can tell the big man person and the big woman person don’t like going up there at all. But right before my all-seeing golden eyes, the big woman person hauls a ladder into my bedroom, removes a portion of the ceiling, and climbs into the attic.

Wow, Max gasps in amazement, did she just disappear?

Yes, I respond with an edge of sarcasm. "She disappeared, and I’m going to start driving cars, and I heard Patches came back from

the

dead

."

Really?

No, you goof, I say. She went into the attic. Max walks cautiously over to the ladder, and he places his front paws on the

second

rung

.

If people are coming to visit, I should warn Max. My people typically put me outside the whole time guests are here—a shocking breach of conduct.

My ears twitch and rotate slightly as I detect the rustling noises from the attic. I hear what sounds like the big woman person walking in the attic above me. Max jumps away in fear as things crash down out of the attic. Max comes to my side and snuggles up a little too close for my liking. One low growl, and Max moves away from me a few feet. I look at what has fallen out of the attic, and I remember these things. I usually only see them about once a year, and usually at the same time of year. They are suitcases.

If the big woman person is getting suitcases out of the attic, that must mean that people are leaving to somebody else’s house. I never understand why my people want to

leave

me

.

Chief has tried to explain it

to

me

.

For a dog, Chief is rather wise—he has lived long enough. He once told me that some people have this disability in that they are allergic to cats. Apparently, some people are allergic to almost all animals. I’m not really sure how I feel about this. Simply labeling it as a medical condition is not a good excuse to let people off the hook from giving me the honor that I am due. I understand why some people would not feel worthy in my presence, but I also wonder why people tolerate such incredible flaws within their own population.

The big man person comes home as usual in the evening. He is a pretty sensible man, and he spends most of his days away from my home getting food for me and packing it into a can. The dry food is okay, but I love the canned food. He feeds me first, and once I’m done eating, I allow Max to eat. I decide against warning him about the impending changes.

It would only

confuse

him

.

After dinner, the kid people play games, read books, and do homework. The oldest girl child spends the evening talking on the telephone. Tonight’s conversation catches my attention.

No, Friday night won’t work, the oldest girl child says on the phone. That’s tomorrow night, right?

My impeccable feline senses detect an affirmative from whoever is calling.

No, me and my whole family are going on vacation, she says. "We’re going to the country, actually. We are going to stay at Uncle

Bill’s

farm

!"

"Awww, Daddy, I’m going to miss Princess and Max so much," the youngest girl child says as she scoops me up in her arms the next morning.

I emit a low growl, and she drops me to the floor.

The young girl child has revealed her foolishness. She won’t only miss me; she will falter along without purpose. Who is going to take care of Princess and Max? she asks. "Princess can take care of herself,

but

Max

…"

Maybe she is not as foolish as I thought.

Don’t worry, the big man person says. I’m going to pay somebody to take care of Max and Princess. They will make sure everything is okay. Besides, this might be the last time we can visit Uncle Bill—at his farm, anyways.

He will pay somebody to

come

here

?

The big man person must realize that people should pay to see me. It is an honor to be in my presence, let alone

feed

me

.

Out of mercy for Max, I need to find him so that I can warn him about what is in store for us. Perhaps I have developed a soft spot

for

him

.

Max is not on top of the tropical fish tank. He’s not on top of the TV. He’s not under the buffet. Max isn’t outside under the lilac bush or the apple tree, and I don’t hear him yelling pitifully from the top of the willow tree. I hop up onto the back fence and walk the perimeter of my backyard. He’s not going to the bathroom in the neighbor’s yard. He is nowhere to be found. Maybe Chief has talked to Max or seen him recently.

Hey, Chief, I say to Chief, who pretends to be asleep. "Do you know where

Max

is

?"

You don’t know? comes his lazy reply after a pause.

Of course I do, I say, but I need to keep you on your toes, make sure your canine instincts haven’t faded.

Chief shakes his head in the negative.

Max is almost never in the front yard, but it is the last place to check. I quickly see he’s not there, so I go in through the door on the side of the garage. I hop up onto the top of the large portable heaters—cars, as my people call them—and I see that Max isn’t up there, either. He isn’t playing with the string hanging down from the garage door opener. I can’t find Max anywhere. I exit the cat door, into the front yard. As I wait for my people to let me back into my house, a boy approaches. He’s younger than the oldest girl child, but older than the middle boy child. I recognize him immediately.

It’s

Todd

.

I don’t know if there’s another person I dislike more than Todd. He is rebel scum. I scamper away and hide under the bush just as one of my people comes to open the front door

for

Todd

.

Todd’s toes protrude from the holes in his red sneakers as he walks by the bush I hide under. What must be fleas fall out of his dirty hair. I remember his hair to be pale blond and he always looks like he just got out

of

bed

.

There is no way this beast will serve on my staff while my people are away on vacation. Todd doesn’t know his place in society. He thinks he has the right to do whatever he wants with animals—even cats! The need to warn Max leaves my mind. I must find a way to persuade Todd to refuse to help my people while they are on vacation.

I dart out from under the bush away from the front door, through the cat door into the garage, and then I enter my eating room. I am alone with my and Max’s food dishes, water bowls, litter box, and the large machines the people use to clean and heat their clothes. It’s bizarre that people haven’t figured out how to wash themselves like cats. Thank goodness I only need to lick myself.

Todd will be cleaning my litter box while my people are gone, and so I must make it as distasteful a task as possible. I can’t stand doing this in my own house, but I need to for the greater good. I squat down beside the litter box, and I force myself to take a big poop. I scoot while doing the deed so that it streaks along the floor. Then I push Max’s food bowl into it to grind it into the floor. Final touch: I scatter some litter onto the floor out of the box and spray it with pee. That should make cleanup horrific. I hurry out into my living room and hide under the couch.

The big man person and Todd are in the kitchen now. The big man person explains how they open the cans of my food so that they can give me my daily offering and tribute. Then they enter my eating room. I wait to hear Todd’s response.

That’s unusual, the big man person says. I will be sure to clean that up before we leave so that you don’t have to worry about it. I don’t think that has ever happened.

Don’t worry, sir, Todd says. "I will make sure to treat your cats right. They won’t do these types of things. Everything will be just perfect when you

get

back

."

Am I the only one who hears the plotting and deceit in his voice?

I dart out from under the couch and hop up onto the kitchen counter. I need a more aggressive tactic. I crouch behind the roll of paper towels. The big man person comes out of my eating room and leads Todd back to our kitchen, saying, Let me show you those last few houseplants you need to water. The big man person walks by me without seeing me, but Todd spots me as he approaches. He narrows his eyes, and his grin exposes his crooked yellow buckteeth. It is as if he is saying, I can’t wait for this. I need to make sure that Todd never wants to see me again.

Once Todd’s back is to me in the kitchen, I pull the same maneuver I typically use on dogs and coyotes: The Guillotine. I leap from the kitchen counter, sail through the air, and hook my front claws into Todd’s shoulders. My fangs sink into the back of his neck while I scratch furiously with my rear claws. His neck is too thick for me to get ahold of, but I tear his shirt.

Todd yells, What the—?! and spins to get me off. Todd tears his shirt off in an effort to get rid of me. I hiss and yowl when I land on the ground.

I stare into Todd’s eyes. Todd draws his foot back to kick me, but he restrains himself. His grin returns, and his yellow buckteeth stick out from his smile. He doesn’t clean those yellow teeth nearly as often as he should. In response, I show my well cared for white fangs and release

another

hiss

.

Put some clothes on, the youngest girl child yells with laughter, seeing Todd shirtless and with red stripes on

his

back

.

See, the oldest girl child says, I told you Princess can be mean. I’m not offended by this because I need help to persuade Todd he does not want to help my people while they

are

gone

.

That is definitely a first, the middle boy child wryly comments about my attack.

That’s yet another thing that has never happened before, the big man person says. "I expect the next ten days will be much less eventful. All you have to do is feed them. Princess will pretend you don’t exist. If you witness any weird antics, it will probably be from Max. By the way, where is Max? Has anybody

seen

him

?"

Nope, all three kids say in unison.

Todd slips his shredded shirt back on, and the big man person leads him to the

front

door

.

"Make sure you water those two plants in the living room, and we will be back in about