Free The Crabby Cat Caper by Beverly Lewis

ONE
    â€œYucko,” said Dee Dee Winters. “Thinking up riddles is hard.”
    She stared out her bedroom window. She tapped her pencil on the desk.
    It was almost summer. The last day of May.
    Two weeks till summer vacation.
    Two days till the school carnival.
    Meow. Mister Whiskers curled against Dee Dee’s legs.
    â€œI have to write a riddle for school,” she told him. “Any ideas?”
    Merrrt. Mister Whiskers shook his furry body. His name tag jingled.
    â€œDon’t tell me no,” Dee Dee said. “You haven’t even tried.”
    Mister Whiskers found a sunny spot on the floor. He licked his sleek, gray coat.
    His whiskers wiggled. They waggled.
    Purrr. The sound was like a motor boat. A soft, distant one.
    â€œIs that all you have to say?” Dee Dee rolled her dark eyes. “You’re no help.”
    Mister Whiskers stretched his soft body against the carpet.
    â€œSo . . . just like that, you’re takin’ a nap?” Dee Dee said.
    The long whiskers twitched. Dreamland was on its way.
    What can I expect? she thought. He’s a cat. A crabby little cat.
    She was right. Mister Whiskers was definitely crabby. Sometimes worse than crabby. Sometimes he took risks.
    Big ones!

    Daring thrills and certain chills.
    Potted plant spills from windowsills.
    Sometimes he set off fire drills.
    That’s what Mister Whiskers was all about.
    Dee Dee picked up her pencil. She decided to try to write the riddle again.
    â€œEveryone in class has to write one,” Dee Dee explained to her sleepy cat. “The riddle is due Monday.”
    She checked her kitty calendar. The May border had cat paws along the side.
    â€œThis is Friday afternoon,” Dee Dee said. “I better hurry.”
    Mew. Mister Whiskers opened one droopy eye.
    â€œYou agree with me? Well, it’s about time.” Dee Dee laughed.
    She picked up her pencil. She wrote:

    A Riddle
by
Dee Dee Winters

    She stopped. “Now what? What comes next?”
    Mister Whiskers didn’t open his eyes this time. The cozy cat was somewhere in snooze land. Probably dreaming about his supper. Or his next adventure.
    Dee Dee made kissy noises. She did it three times.
    No response.
    â€œFine and dandy,” she whispered. “Sleep your life away.”
    But Dee Dee didn’t want Mister Whiskers to sleep. Not at all. She wanted his eyes wide open. She wanted his tail jerking.
    Dee Dee wanted company. Someone to talk to. Even if it was only cat chat!

TWO
    Dee Dee started to write again. But her pencil was dull. She went to her pencil sharpener. All the while, she was thinking about her riddle.
    â€œI’ve got it!” she said at last. “I know what I’ll write!” Dee Dee hurried to her desk.
    Neatly, she printed these words:

    I am green.
    I make a certain cat hiss.
    I have blinky eyes and eat flies.
    Who am I?
    Hint: My name starts with C.

    She put her pencil down and read the riddle and the hint. She thought about it.
    Then she read it again. This time out loud.
    Dee Dee wasn’t sure if she liked it. “Everyone will know the answer,” she said. “It’s too easy.”
    She thought about Jason Birchall’s frog, Croaker. The bullfrog made her cat go crazy. Totally goofy.
    The Cul-de-sac Kids were going to take pets to the school carnival. They wanted to walk around and show them off.
    Yesterday, they’d had a big meeting about it. A Cul-de-sac Kids meeting. All pet decisions had been made.
    Stacy Henry was taking Sunday Funnies, her white cockapoo. Dunkum Mifflin was putting a leash on his rabbit, Blinkee.
    Eric Hagel was taking Fran the Ham, his girl hamster. He would carry heraround in his shirt pocket.
    Shawn Hunter was taking Snow White, his floppy-eared puppy. Carly and Jimmy Hunter wanted to take their pet ducks, Quacker and Jack.
    Ducks at a carnival? thought Dee Dee.
    She had nearly burst out laughing. How could that possibly work? But she’d