名稱：the great animal trainer
內(nèi)容簡(jiǎn)介：
By James M. Janik
Art by Apryl Stott

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This was all Mom’s fault. In just eight months, Toby had grown too big for our tiny apartment. Mom said, “I had no idea that cute little puppy from the pound would grow so big.”

So Toby got shipped off to Grandma’s farm, where he seemed to like it better anyway. To make up for it, Mom got me a cat. That’s when my troubles began. Mom said, “You two will become great pals in no time.” Pals? What was I supposed to do with a cat?

I had trained Toby. I housebroke him. I taught him tricks likesit and stay.

Toby seemed to like it, too. So I decided to train this cat.

First, he needed a name. You can’t train an animal without one. I tried a million different names, but that clueless cat wouldn’t listen to any of them. He perked up once, but only because a sunbeam flitted across the wall.

After a while, I settled on the name Wilbur—the same name I’d given my sister’s pet hamster. That goofy hamster never listened to me either.

Next, I decided to housebreak him. Mom bought a litter box, but I didn’t believe Wilbur would pay any more attention to it than he did to me. I’d need to train him to use it.

So I followed him everywhere, watching for some sign that he wanted to go outside, just like I’d done with Toby. I waited and watched. All that cat did was sleep. Pretty soon my eyes got droopy, and before I knew it, I fell asleep, too.

When I woke up, Wilbur was gone. I panicked and ran to the door, expecting to find a mess. Nothing.

Then I heard a scraping noise from the closet. I looked inside and found Wilbur in his litter box. Somehow, on his own, he knew. Weird.

If a cat was that easy to housebreak, I figured that teaching him a few simple tricks would be a cinch.

I set Wilbur down in front of me. I held his kitty treats behind my back, just like I’d done with Toby. I said, “Sit, Wilbur,” and gave his rear a gentle push downward. It bounced right back up. This cat didn’t know anything about taking orders.

“Sit,” I told Wilbur again.

Wilbur yawned, stretched out his tiny front paws, and flopped over on his side. His bright green eyes closed, and he drifted off again.

How was I supposed to train an animal who just wanted to sleep?

“Stay,” I added, only because I knew he would.

This was impossible. Cats were nothing like dogs. Toby would follow me everywhere and do anything for a treat. Wilbur barely noticed me. We were supposed to become pals?

I decided to give him a bath. All pets needed baths. I’d washed Toby every Saturday. Toby fought a little, but this cat probably wouldn’t even wake up. I found the wash basin and grabbed the sponge and soap. I even ran the water warm so Wilbur wouldn’t get a chill.

At the sound of the running water, Wilbur stirred and began to lick himself. He started with his paws, moved to his legs, then used his own wet paws to scrub his face and ears.

Mom saw what I was doing. “Oh, honey, cats don’t need baths.” She looked at Wilbur. “See?” she said. “They clean themselves.”

Cats didn’t need baths?

I watched, wondering just what I was supposed to do with this crazy new pet. As far as I could tell, he didn’t need me at all. What sort of pet didn’t need an owner?

Wilbur finished bathing, stretched up onto his tippy-toes, arched his back, and wrapped his body around my ankles. Why? I had no clue. It did feel kind of nice, though.

Then he made a weird noise, like a motor running, so I sat down to get a better listen. Wilbur crawled into my lap, motor still humming, and started pressing his feet, one after the other, into my belly. Toby never did that!

When Mom came back into the room, she grinned. “Looks like our kitty has already picked his favorite person,” she said. “You know, cats only do that when they really like you. Didn’t I say you’d become great pals?”

I looked up at her, then glanced down at the cat. Maybe Wilburwasmy pal. His tiny paws kept pumping away at my belly. He purred like a little buzz saw.

“His name is Wilbur, Mom,” I said. “You know, he seems pretty smart... for a cat.”