CAT FISHING

By Maria Marseglia Kuzmiak

Published in “The Friend”

“I want to pet Ernie,” Andrew said. He reached toward the cat’s fluffy orange fur. But Ernie bolted for the living room and hid behind Gram’s new blue sofa.

Andrew snuck into the living room and climbed up on the sofa. He stood on a sagging cushion, and peeked behind the sofa at Ernie. Ernie’s giant green eyes were gleaming at Andrew. He took a few steps back until his tail bumped the wall.

“I want Ernie to play with me,” Andrew said out loud. “I am not a stranger. I am Gram’s special visitor.” He sat on the cushion and sat looking around the room at the toys Gram kept for him. Andrew’s face lit up, and he ran to get his hobbyhorse. He picked it up and galloped out to the kitchen.

 “I need a piece of string,” he told Gram.

“I can get you some string when I get this cake in the oven,” Gram told him.

“Thank you, Gram,” he said with a big, bright smile. “I will be right back.”

He marched up the stairs to the guest room. He was looking for Ernie’s toy mouse. He knew he had seen it upstairs. He searched under the bed, in the closet, and in the corner next to the nightstand.

“There it is!” he yelped when he finally found it at the foot of the attic stairs. He grabbed the toy mouse and ran back to the kitchen.

 “Can I have that string now, Gram?” he asked, panting.

Gram took a roll of string from a drawer in the kitchen counter. It was the string Gramps used to tie up the newspapers on recycling day. “How much do you need?” she asked, unrolling some.

Andrew spread his arms. “About this much,” he said.

Gram cut the string with a scissor and handed it to Andrew. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I am going cat fishing,” he said proudly.

“Cat fishing?”

“Yes. Will you help me?” 

“Well, I suppose I can help if you will tell me what to do,” Gram answered.

Andrew turned his hobbyhorse upside down. “Tie the string here,” he said, “Then tie this mouse to the string.”

Gram looked a little puzzled, but she did what Andrew asked. Then he tiptoed back into the living room and climbed on the sofa again. Ernie was still behind the couch. He was napping now.

“Ernie!” Andrew called. The cat opened his eyes and stretched his paws. He looked up at Andrew and yawned.

“Here, Ernie,” Andrew said. He used the handle of the hobbyhorse to lower the toy mouse behind the sofa.

Ernie sat and stared at the fuzzy toy coming toward him. He got excited and reached for it with his paws. Andrew slowly pulled on the hobbyhorse and the toy mouse with it. He pulled it up an inch…up an inch more…up an inch more. Ernie climbed up the back of the sofa after the mouse.

Finally, Ernie hopped over the top of the sofa and pounced toward the mouse. Andrew had it in his hand. Andrew reached out and patted Ernie on the head with his other hand. That stopped Ernie for a moment, but he rubbed Andrew’s hand with the top of his head. Then Ernie began to purr. He seemed to forget about the mouse. Andrew scratched Ernie under the chin, and Ernie purred more loudly. He curled up in a ball next to Andrew, who was now stroking his fluffy back.

Andrew turned toward the doorway, where Gram was watching. “I think Ernie likes me after all,” he told her.

“I think Ernie is very happy to have a nice little boy to play with,” Gram said. “Cats need friends, too.”