Snakes Don't Miss Their Mothers Read Online Free Page A

back the ducks. I am known for my ability to swim! And here I am in a kennel for the homeless, including a serpent!”
    Irving chuckled at the idea of Goldie hunting. He knew from experience quite a lot about hunting, although he disliked swimming and water.
    â€œSome hunter you must have been, Goldie,” he teased. “You can’t even point.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Marshall chimed in. “At least Irving can point.”
    â€œNot like a setter, though.” Dewey finally spoke up, although he rarely got involved in these silly arguments. But his Irish was up, for he was a purebred Irish setter, a red-coated trained bird dog. Yes, he was old. He had outlived his master, which was how he had come to Critters; how Irving had come to Critters, too. But everyone knew the Irish setter was the most handsome, most skilled of all the pointing breeds.
    Goldie said, “I was never reduced to pointing. I went right in and retrieved the game.”
    Dewey said, “Ask any duck shooter whether he’d rather hunt with a retriever or a setter. Catherine? Do you want to bet? The answer is a setter!”
    Now Irving was up on all fours, too, barking his irritation at both Goldie and Dewey. And down the line a water spaniel was beginning to boast about his hunting and swimming abilities. In the next cage a foxhound was remembering the chase.
    Then Mrs. Splinter’s voice rang out. “Merry, Merry, Merry Christmas, everyone!” She was a tiny, white-haired woman who wore a white stocking cap with a red tassel and a white ball. “Mrs. Santa Splinter is here with your stockings!”
    â€œTwo for me!” Goldie looked across at Catherine. “And none for you!”
    It is just a good thing humans cannot understand animal talk.
    But never mind the mean-spirited things Goldie and Catherine were shouting at each other; Mrs. Splinter was in a festive mood. “Does everyone have the Christmas spirit?” she said. “It’s starting to snow out! We’re going to have a white Christmas!”
    Then the dogs forgot their arguments and all began to bark gaily.
    All but Catherine, who was never warm, and who also always shivered when she feared she had lost a bet.
    Mrs. Splinter, paused by Catherine’s cage. She looped Catherine’s leash around the handle. “Are you sad, darling? Don’t be,” she said. “Ginny Tintree has invited you to her home for all of Christmas weekend, starting tonight. Every year she takes a dog for the holidays. I wish all our volunteers were that generous.”
    Marshall said, “Why just for the holidays, if she’s so generous?”
    â€œBecause the Star-Tintrees already have a dog, and a daughter, plus they run the tree farm,” said Irving. “I was there two Christmases ago.”
    â€œWhat are they like?” Catherine asked, dancing about with excitement.
    â€œLittle Sun Lily can speak Chinese because she happens to be Chinese. Nell Star is a news freak and a landscapes. Ginny Tintree is the brains behind the business. She handles the money.”
    Marshall began to giggle meanly. “Don’t forget the chanteuse who comes to visit with them on holidays. Placido told me all about her.”
    â€œIt’s just Ginny’s mother, Mrs. Tintree,” said Irving. “Her first name is Flo, and she’s an animal lover just like Mrs. Splinter.”
    â€œAnd Walter, and Mr. Larissa, and on and on,” said Marshall. “We attract zoophiles here at Critters.”
    â€œAttract what?” Catherine asked.
    â€œA zoophile is simply someone who has a fondness for animals,” said Marshall. “I need a nap, I think. I’m so very hungry I’m lethargic. I wish Mrs. Splinter would serve our Christmas snacks.”
    Instead of a stocking with chew sticks and dog biscuits, for Christmas Marshall always received a defrosted mouse, which was in a Baggie on the office