Confession of a Catnapper

by Torry Martin

Dear B. Log,

“Yip-yip hurray! Yip-yip hurray!” (That’s a shared expression of joy between me and my dog, Sam. He starts with the “yip-yips,” then I shout “hurray!”) We’re finally free of the fur balls from five felines! (And I triple-Sam-dare ya to say that five times fast.)

Anyway, last month I found five cats at Willow Manor, and now they’re finally going to a new home at…Willow Manor! Turns out they belonged there the whole time. I thought they were strays, so I brought them home. Turns out I was kidnapping cats. That would make me a catnapper, though my catnapping never left me feeling refreshed because the cats made me sneeze all night.

OK, enough chit-chat about kit-cats. Let’s cut right to the chase because that’s how my day began—by chasing Sam.

“Bring back that shoe!” I yelled. But before I could catch Sam, he slide down my exit slide, which forced me to do the same. I was determined to get the shoe for two reasons: 1) it wasn’t mine, and 2) it wasn’t Sam’s.

Next I jumped fences, leaped bushes and stopped to pick up a nickel because it was shiny. I finally caught up with Sam on the front porch of Willow Manor, where I was not only able to get the shoe but also able to return it to its owner—whose shoeless left foot dangled out the window.“I got your shoe,” I told Miss Ulily Mae Willow, my mysterious neighbor who was trapped by her window.

“Oh, thanks,” she replied from inside. “It’s good to have that back. It’d also be good to have this off my back.”

“How long have you been stuck here?”

“About 10 minutes,” she said. “When I was leaving, the window suddenly dropped and trapped me.”

“Oops! I think that’s my fault,” I said. “Since the window was getting stuck, I sanded it and applied fresh beeswax.”

“Well, that certainly explains my predicament,” Miss Willow said kindly, “but it doesn’t help me get out.”

“You seem very calm about being stuck there.”

“Well, screaming doesn’t help,” she said, “so I was praying, and God brought you and your dog here.”

I carefully lifted the window, and then the weirdest thing happened. We became friends. We sat on Miss Willow’s porch and talked like friends do. And she must trust me ‘cause she answered all my questions.

I found out why Miss Willow doesn’t want anyone to know she’s back in town, whether she’s a spy, where all the cats came from, why she crawls through the window, what’s in her bowling bag and why she doesn’t want to bump into Mr. McCready. I’d love to tell you all about I, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy for now and, besides, I’ve got five “Bob” cats to return to my new friend.

This article first appeared in the June 2010 issue of Focus on the Family Clubhouse magazine. Copyright © 2010 by Torry Martin. Used by permission. Illustration © Gary Locke.