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Who ever heard of a cat that didn't eat birds?The house people had picked me out of my litter to be a mouser. Callie was getting too old for the job. So it was mine. But I didn't plan on getting dive-bombed by a mockingbird building her nest...or adopting the baby who fell out. No joke! I'm a cat, but I do not eat birds. Mice, yes. Birds, no. Flea -- that's what I named her -- couldn't even fly. She was so scared when she toppled onto my head that she said, "Eat me...it's quicker than starving to death."She was pathetic. I had to help her. The first step was protecting Flea -- and me -- from the monster rats in the barn ( that's saying a mouthful!) and Bullsnake under the woodpile. Next, Callie and I had to teach Flea to fly. After all, how could she stay up North with us when her bird family was flying to Florida. I'm not a Florida kind of cat. It's just too hot for us furry types. I know I'll miss my Flea. But she'll come back -- after she's seen the world!
Achat du livre
The Flying Flea, Callie and Me, Carol Wallace, Bill Wallace, David Slonim
- Langue
- Année de publication
- 1999
- Reliure
- (souple)
Modes de paiement
Il manque plus que ton avis ici.
- Titre
- The Flying Flea, Callie and Me
- Sous-titre
- What's a Self-Respecting Cat Doing with a Pet Bird?
- Langue
- Anglais
- Auteurs
- Carol Wallace, Bill Wallace, David Slonim
- Éditeur
- Pocket Books
- Publié
- 1999
- Format
- souple
- Pages
- 96
- ISBN10
- 0671039687
- ISBN13
- 9780671039684
- Séries
- Catégories
- Évaluation
- 3,9 sur 5
- Description
- Who ever heard of a cat that didn't eat birds?The house people had picked me out of my litter to be a mouser. Callie was getting too old for the job. So it was mine. But I didn't plan on getting dive-bombed by a mockingbird building her nest...or adopting the baby who fell out. No joke! I'm a cat, but I do not eat birds. Mice, yes. Birds, no. Flea -- that's what I named her -- couldn't even fly. She was so scared when she toppled onto my head that she said, "Eat me...it's quicker than starving to death."She was pathetic. I had to help her. The first step was protecting Flea -- and me -- from the monster rats in the barn ( that's saying a mouthful!) and Bullsnake under the woodpile. Next, Callie and I had to teach Flea to fly. After all, how could she stay up North with us when her bird family was flying to Florida. I'm not a Florida kind of cat. It's just too hot for us furry types. I know I'll miss my Flea. But she'll come back -- after she's seen the world!