Hissy Fitz Read Online Free Page B

again?”
    Yes.
    “Did you give him wet food?”
    “Yes,” Georgie says.
    “Then just give him a little dry. We don’t want him getting fat.”
    Grrrrrrrrrr
.
    “And water, too,” Mom says. “Better do it quickly. He’s been hissing at me. And he attacked Zeb.”
    “Zeb probably deserved it,” Georgie says with a roll of her eyes.
    Georgie scoops some kibbles out of the bag and pours them into my dish. They make an unappetizing tinkling sound.
    I eat a couple. Compared to the salmon in theDumpster, kibbles taste like dirt. I gulp them down, lap up some water, then stroll away.
    “That’s all you want?” Mom asks. “After all that fuss?”
    The fuss, I wish I could tell her, is not about food and drink. It is about sleep. It is about not being able to get any in this house. Since I can’t tell her, I lift my tail and add a little swagger to my walk.

12.
The Bug
    I hurry up to the parents’ bedroom and scoot under their big bed. It’s the family’s dinnertime, and I’m hoping to get in a quick nap while they’re all busy eating.
    I tuck my legs under me and shut my eyes. All the muscles in my body instantly relax. I feel as if I’m melting.
    I am a lion, dozing on the savannah. Gazelles and zebras circle around me, but I am too bushed to lift my enormous, maned head. I’m too tired to hunt.
    “Hissy!” Georgie says. “Hissy Fitz! Come out of there!”
    I open my eyes. She’s peeking under the bed at me.
    “Hurry, before Zeb gets here!”
    The light in the hall is shining in my eyes. It wasn’t on when I came up here. Georgie must have turned it on. But why would she? Night hasn’t fallen yet.
    Or has it?
    “He’s still at the table. Mama won’t let him get up till he eats a vegetable. Come on! We can play in my room.”
    I don’t want to play in her room. I want to —
    What’s that? Something is swishing back and forth in front of me.
    It disappeared!
    It’s back!
    Georgie giggles. “What do you see, Hissy? What is it? Come and see, Hissy. Come on. Come out and see what it is.”
    It acts like a bug. It flutters. It zigzags. I grip the carpet with my claws and prepare to pounce.
    I’m not fooled, of course. Georgie’s trying to lure me out with a cat toy, a wad of paper tied to a wire. I’m not going to —
    There it is again! To the right. It’s on the move. I must catch it before it gets away.
    I creep forward.
    “That’s it, Hissy,” Georgie says. “Get it. Go on.…”
    My movements are smooth and silent. I’m practically gliding across the rug. The bug/toy dances a herky-jerky jig. Then it flies straight up, out of sight. I must get out from under the bed!
    “Where’d it go, Hissy? Where’d it go? It flew away, I think. It’s gone, Hissy. You didn’t catch it.”
    I stick my nose out from under the bed and glance upward. I don’t see the bug. But I hear a dull thumping on the bedspread.
    “It’s on the bed, Hissy! It’s on the bed! Get it, Hissy! Get it!”
    I run out from under the bed and look back to see the bug flopping on it. There’s no time to lose! I spring onto the bed — which is taller than the kids’ — just as the bug lifts off. It disappears again. Rats!

    “Oh, no,” Georgie says, pretending to be disappointed. “I guess it really did get away this — no,
there
it is!” The bug flies back and flitters in circles right over my head. I swat at it and miss. Georgie laughs.
I spin around and swat again. I miss again. Georgie laughs harder.
    “You can get it, Hissy! Don’t give up!”
    She continues to make the thing dance in the air. I want to teach Georgie a lesson for waking me. I will catch it and rip it to shreds before her eyes. Then we’ll see who laughs best.
    I leap into the air, but she jerks the toy away in the nick of time. She lifts it higher. I leap higher. She jerks it away. I land awkwardly and fall on my side. She laughs. I spring to my feet.
    Hssssssssss!
I say.
    “Oh, don’t get mad, Hissy. Keep trying. You’ll get it.”
    I