Free Ava and Taco Cat by Carol Weston

I thought she was calling my cat a butthead! Then I realized that this was in my head.
    Anyway, Maybelle said that in 1963, France sent the first cat ever into outer space. “Her name was Felicette.”
    â€œReally?” I said.
    â€œOui,” Maybelle said. “A lot of animals went into space. Dogs, monkeys, mice, turtles, even newts and fruit flies.”
    â€œNewts?” Zara and I said at the exact same time.
    She gave me a little smile so I went ahead and gave her a little smile back, which was nice of me. Then we both said “Jinx” at the same time.
    â€œDid the cat live?” I asked Maybelle.
    Maybelle said the cat went up for fifteen minutes and “came back famous.”
    Zara said, “Cool.” She was petting Taco and he was letting her. “What a good cat,” she said. I appreciated her appreciation, even though I was glad Taco did not choose that moment to purr. But then Zara said something I did not appreciate. She said, “I wonder who he used to belong to.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” I said. Obviously, I think of Taco as mine , not as some hand-me-down stray.
    â€œI mean, did you look for Lost Cat signs?”
    â€œNo…” I said and wondered whether we should have.
    â€œMy stepfather once had a dog that got lost,” Zara continued. “But it had tags, and we put up signs, and the person who found him gave him back.”
    â€œTaco didn’t have tags and we didn’t see any signs,” I stated in a way that I hoped made it clear that this conversation was over.
    Soon Maybelle and Zara left, and I felt irritated that Zara had come over at all. I hugged Taco close and was glad that he was mine, and that he’s Taco Wren —not Taco Smith or Taco Jones or even Taco Bell!
    Ava Elle Wren, Owner of Taco Cat Wren
    P.S. Dinner was a revolting concoction of kale, quinoa, and mushrooms. Ugh! Why can’t we have Taco Tuesdays instead of Meatless Mondays?

1/12
barely awake
Dear Diary,
    I had the scariest dream!
    A gigantic elephant was trying to barge into my room. I locked the door, but the elephant started getting in anyway. I was really scared and didn’t know where to hide, and I hoped it would not get in and trample or squash me!
    When I woke up, I thought: What the heck was that about? Had I read something scary before bed? Was my nightmare inspired by an Aesop fable about elephants?
    But no, I hadn’t. And I doubt Aesop wrote about elephants in ancient Greece.
    I doubt Basho wrote about elephants in ancient Japan either.
    My mind was all over the place, and then I remembered the expression “an elephant in the room,” which means the upsetting thing no one is talking about.
    Right now what’s upsetting me is what Zara said about Lost Cat signs. I have to admit: it didn’t even occur to me to look for Lost Cat signs—let alone round up my friends to make Found Cat signs. And even if I had made Found Cat signs, I probably wouldn’t have posted them in plain sight. I would have posted them in closets and behind doors!
    Should I talk to Mom or Dad about this?
    I wish Zara had kept her mouth zipped!
    Ava, Angry

1/13
bedtime
Dear Diary,
    Question: What if someone out there is looking for Taco Cat?
    I don’t even want to think about that.
    I could think about Chuck, but he and I haven’t said a word to each other in six days.
    I could think about Maybelle because she’s coming over again tomorrow. But what if Zara thinks she’s invited? She isn’t!
    Sometimes I wish I could just turn off my brain.
    Ava, Agitated

1/14
4:11
Dear Diary,
    Maybelle came over, and Dad built us a fire in the fireplace while we made banana milk. That’s when we put bananas and ice cream and ice in a blender. (Taco hates when we use the blender.) We also made a snack of banana slices topped with dabs of chunky peanut butter. (Dad and Mom both bought bananas so we have way too many.) Anyway,