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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Ransom, Candice F., 1952- author. | National Geographic Society (U.S.)

Title: Terrier trouble! / by Candice Ransom.

Description: Washington, D.C. : National Geographic Kids, [2017] | Series: National geographic kids chapters | Audience: Ages 7-10. | Audience: Grades 4 to 6.

Identifiers: LCCN 2017010739 (print) | LCCN 2017029184 (ebook) | ISBN 9781426329012 (e-book) | ISBN 9781426328992 (pbk. : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781426329005 (hardcover : alk. paper)

Subjects: LCSH: Animal behavior—Juvenile literature. | Pets–Juvenile literature.

Classification: LCC QL751.5 (ebook) | LCC QL751.5 .R36 2017 (print) | DDC 636.088/7–dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/​2017010739

Ebook ISBN 9781426329012

v5.1

a

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

ATTICUS: Rowdy Kitty

Chapter 1: Crazy Kitten!

Chapter 2: Attack Cat

Chapter 3: Tricky Paws

PEEPERS: Emu Thief

Chapter 1: Trouble With a “P”

Chapter 2: Pickpocket Peepers

Chapter 3: Everybody in the Pool

COCO: Terrier Trouble

Chapter 1: Perfect Dog?

Chapter 2: Sneaky Coco

Chapter 3: Coco Goes to College

DON’T MISS!

Index

More Information

Credits

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Atticus destroys…er…reads the morning paper. Credit 1

Atticus paws at a box of cereal. Is he looking for a snack? Credit 2

A red truck pulled up in front of the animal shelter in Fredericksburg, Virginia, U.S.A. Candice and Frank stepped out. They were both excited. For the first time in 25 years, they were getting a kitten. All of their older cats had died, and they felt their house had grown too quiet. They wanted a lively kitten. They headed inside the shelter to find one.

In one of the cat kennels, Candice spotted a black kitten with a fluffy tail. She picked him up. The kitten licked her chin. When Candice set him down, he attacked her shoe. So cute! This kitten certainly seemed lively. Candice and Frank agreed he would be their new pet. Before they even left the shelter, Candice named him Atticus (sounds like AT-ih-cuss). It seemed like a dignified name for a cat.

Candice and Frank filled out paperwork. They could pick up their new kitten the next day. They learned that Atticus and his sister had been found near a Dumpster. They were only four weeks old. Someone brought the kittens to the animal shelter. A foster family raised the kittens until they were old enough to be adopted.

The next day, Candice went back to the shelter. She tucked Atticus in his carrier and put it on the seat beside her. As she drove, she told Atticus he was going to a cozy house. “There are lace curtains on the windows,” she said. “You’ll have lots of places to sleep and interesting things to look at.”

At home, Candice took the cat carrier inside. She unlatched the door. Atticus sprang out and started running on the wood floors. He ran and ran and ran. He ran upstairs and downstairs. He even clawed up Candice’s back to the top of her head! “Ouch!” she said.

Atticus weighed only five pounds (2.3 kg). Yet when he ran, he sounded like a herd of wild horses. When he raced around a corner, his feet flew out from under him.

Did You Know?

If a black cat spends a lot of time in the sun, its fur turns brown.

He skidded into the wall and kept going. Atticus ran so much, Candice wondered if he knew how to walk. He always seemed to be in a hurry. When she gave him some cat food, he gobbled it up. It was gone in two seconds flat.

That evening, Frank and Candice sat down to dinner. Atticus stared at them with round eyes. He smelled green beans and chicken cooked with mushrooms. Suddenly, he jumped straight up and grabbed a mushroom off Candice’s plate. “That cat just ate a mushroom,” Frank said in amazement.

That wasn’t all Atticus ate. He nibbled on lettuce. He stuck his nose in Frank’s coffee mug. He sipped tomato juice. He licked the icing off cupcakes. Candice knew kittens needed a special diet, not people food. But Atticus was hard to stop. He jumped up on the kitchen counter to steal food. Candice and Frank had to store every morsel in chew-proof containers.

That didn’t slow Atticus down. Soon he discovered the garbage can. Instead of tipping it over, he leaped right inside it. Once, Candice started to toss eggshells in the garbage can, and there was Atticus. He was sitting in potato peelings, looking up at her. To solve the problem, Candice bought a new garbage can with a foot-pedal lid.

During the first month, Atticus got into everything. Those pretty lace curtains on the windows? Atticus scaled them like ladders. He shredded them to bits. He pulled the shades down to watch them snap back up again. So, Candice took the curtains and shades down from all the windows.

That didn’t bother Atticus. He simply made up new games. He sat on tables and smacked books or drinking glasses onto the floor. Books made the best noises, but glasses made the biggest messes. Pens, rings, and keys were whacked under furniture. Candice and Frank had hoped a kitten would liven up their quiet house, but maybe Atticus was too lively.

Frank went off to work every day, but Candice worked at home. At least, she tried to. Keeping up with Atticus became her new full-time job. He still ran everywhere. He was on the go 24/7.

Credit 3

Black cats are thought to be lucky or unlucky, depending on where—and when—you live. In ancient Egypt, people kept them to gain favor with Bastet (sounds like BAS-tet). She was the cat goddess. But during the Middle Ages in Europe, black cats were linked to witches.

You may have heard that it’s unlucky for a black cat to cross your path. In some parts of England, it’s lucky to own a black cat but unlucky to meet one. Also, if a black cat walks toward you, you’ll have good luck. But if it walks away from you, it takes away your good luck!

Credit 4

Kittens are supposed to get tired easily and take lots of naps. Not Atticus. He never seemed to sleep. He had boundless energy. Sometimes, Atticus disappeared. The first time he vanished, Candice worried he had slipped outside when she got the mail. “Atticus!” she called. No cat. She checked behind chairs and in corners. Then she peeked under the bed. Behind a box of shoes was a furry black shape. The cat was taking a hidden nap! So he did sleep, after all.

Stealing food, ripping curtains, and constantly running was typical kitten behavior. He would settle down as he got older, Candice knew. But Atticus had another issue. And this one was a real problem: He was a biter.

Like all kittens, Atticus loved to play. He played with toys. He played with Frank’s and Candice’s feet, too. Sometimes he scratched Candice on the ankle or bit Frank’s hand. That was understandable. He would learn not to play so rough.

But Atticus bit when he wasn’t playing. He seemed to attack them on purpose. His teeth broke their skin and left bruises. Each day, they added new bandages to their collection of bites.

Atticus’s biting was a serious problem. Candice worried that a child might come visit. What if Atticus tried to attack? And that is just what happened.

Atticus peeks out from behind a computer screen. Credit 5

One December day, the doorbell rang. Atticus was sitting on a windowsill. He had never heard a doorbell before. He raced into Candice’s home office. His eyes were wide with alarm. “It’s just the doorbell,” she told him. “It means we have company. Be on your best behavior, okay?” Atticus ran down the steps to the door so fast, his little legs were a blur.

Atticus’s nose was pressed against the door as Candice tried to open it. Candice and Frank’s neighbors stood on the porch. It was Michelle White and her three children: Gavin, Sydney, and Maren. Sydney held a fuzzy green mouse. “We’re here to see the new kitty!” Michelle told Candice. “We brought him a present.”

Since bringing Atticus home, Candice and Frank had only had a few guests. Candice wondered how Atticus would react to the children who were so excited to meet him. Gavin and Sydney got down on the floor to be closer to him. He sniffed their hands and feet. Then Gavin started to run down the hall. He wanted Atticus to play. This was a game Atticus knew! He raced after the boy. Meanwhile, Sydney ran in the other direction. Atticus was delighted to have two people to chase! He slid around the corner, his hind claws scrabbling before he hit the wall. Everyone laughed.

Gavin tossed the green mouse. Atticus pounced on it and kicked it with his back feet. “He’s so cute!” said Sydney. Candice crossed her fingers. A fun game often turned rough with Atticus. She didn’t quite trust him yet, especially around children.

Maren, who was only five, stood beside her mother. She squealed when Atticus leaped up in the air with the fuzzy mouse. Atticus stopped and stared at Maren. He trotted closer. Maren wanted to pet the soft kitten. But Candice knew that look in her kitty’s eyes. When his pupils grew big, that meant watch out.

Credit 6

The ancient Egyptians believed cats were sacred (sounds like SAY-kred) animals. Only pharaohs (sounds like FAIR-ohs), or rulers, were allowed to own them. The Egyptians worshipped the cat goddess Bastet. Statues and paintings of her showed her as half woman, half cat.

Bastet’s temple had a huge colony of cats. Cats that had died were brought there to be wrapped in linen sheets. They were buried as mummies. Sometimes mummy mice were buried with them.

Maren sensed danger, too. She ducked behind her mother’s legs. Candice scooped up Atticus. “No!” she scolded him. “No biting!” She explained to her neighbor that Atticus had a problem with biting. “I don’t want him to hurt anyone,” she said.

Candice had prevented disaster. Afterward, she read books on cat behavior. She looked up information about cats on the Internet. How could she stop Atticus from biting? Putting him in the laundry room for a “time-out” didn’t work. Atticus didn’t remember what he had done wrong. Yelling at him didn’t work.

Then Candice read that walking away from a misbehaving cat breaks the power the cat thinks he has. If there’s no one to bite, the cat has to stop. The next time Atticus acted up, she did just that. She walked away. An hour later, when she entered the kitchen, Atticus sprang at her. He bit her knee and dashed away.

“Our cat holds a grudge,” Candice told Frank when he came home. “He remembered I walked away from him, and he bit me later. It’s like he has to have the last word. Or, in his case, the last bite.” “Maybe this is a phase, and he’ll outgrow it,” Frank said.

Did You Know?

Cats are known for their excellent balance. When cats walk, they move both left feet, and then both right feet.

But a few days later, Frank reached down to pet Atticus. The cat wrapped both paws around Frank’s arm and bit his wrist, hard. Blood spurted from the wound. Frank’s arm swelled, and his hand felt numb. Candice washed and wrapped Frank’s wrist. This was serious.

She and her husband had worked with Atticus, but he was getting worse, not better. Atticus would have to go back to the animal shelter. He would have to be labeled a biter to warn families with children who might want to adopt him.

The next day, Candice put Atticus in the cat carrier. She drove to the animal shelter. But she didn’t go in right away. In the parking lot, Candice cried. All her life, she had rescued cats from shelters and given them good homes. Now she was taking one back. In his carrier, Atticus looked around quietly. Most cats hate riding in cars. Often, they meow pitifully. But Atticus hadn’t made a peep.

Candice got out and took Atticus inside the shelter. The director hurried over. Candice explained that she was bringing Atticus back because he wouldn’t stop biting. The director looked at Atticus. “Hmm,” she said. “Black cats aren’t very popular, but he is very cute.”

“Really? I love black cats.” Candice said sadly. “I wish he didn’t bite.” The director told her the shelter didn’t have room for Atticus right then. She suggested Candice bring him back in three days.

Back home, Atticus seemed to change. He became the sweetest cat. He didn’t break anything. He didn’t scratch or bite. He purred like a motorboat in Candice’s lap. She couldn’t believe he had changed.

When Frank came home from work that evening, he saw Atticus. “Weren’t you taking him back today?” he asked. “He’s been so good,” Candice said. “Maybe driving him to the shelter scared him.”

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