Eager Star by Dandi Daley Mackall Read Free Book Online Page B

can. And he only used his thumbs and pinkies.
    Dear Catman,
    My cat fell off the back of my chair and broke her hip! I thought cats always landed on their feet. Is my cat stupid?
    â€”Feline2
    Catman’s answer came fast, with no mistakes:
    Peace, Feline2,
    No, man! Cats can’t handle short falls. They dig long falls—more time to pull up the head, flip over, flatten, and use that tail for balance. Be careful with your feline, Cat!
    â€”The Catman
    His last e-mail read:
    Hey, Catman!
    My kitty thinks she’s an alarm clock! She pounces on me at five every A . M . And she won’t stop yowling until I get up and feed her. You gotta help! I fell asleep in school today!
    â€”Kittykid
    Far out, Kittykid!
    You got yourself one smart kitty! She’s trained you to feed her on command. Better stop feeding her at five. Praise her later when you do feed her. Tell your kitty to let sleeping cats lie!
    â€”The Catman
    I answered three quick questions about bridling a fussy horse, horse dieting, and giving a horse bath to a water-hating Tennessee Walker.
    Pat read the screen. “Lands, I’d never come up with that in a month of Sundays! God was looking out for me the day you walked into this pet shop, Winnie!”
    I bit the inside of my cheek. It felt good to have somebody think I did something right.
    The bell announced a customer. Pat squinted toward the door, then strode to the front. “Well, will you lookie here what the cat dragged in, no offense! How’s life treating you, Chubs?”
    The tall, parent-aged man in gray slacks and a white shirt didn’t look chubby. He grinned down at Pat. “Nobody’s called me Chubs for a long time, Pat.” They fell into easy conversation, and I went back to e-mails.
    I’d almost finished when Pat put her hand on my shoulder. “This here’s Winnie Willis! You’re in luck, Chubs! Good horse gentlers are scarcer than hens’ teeth, no offense!”
    The man looked disappointed. “How old are you?”
    â€œTwelve,” I admitted, my voice cracking.
    He cleared his throat, then shook his head like Ms. Brumby did when she expected me to say something stupid.
    â€œNow, Chubs!” Pat chided. “Don’t go looking a gift horse in the mouth! No offense. Winnie, this is Chubby Baines, a school chum of mine back in the Stone Age.” Pat flicked a curl off her forehead. “He runs that store on Baney Road.”
    â€œChad Baines,” he corrected.
    â€œI’ve been telling Chubs all about you,” Pat explained.
    â€œYou have?” I glanced from one to the other.
    â€œHe’s gotten himself into a real pickle, haven’t you, Chubs?” Pat teased.
    Chad Baines tugged his ear. “I bought a horse for my boy—good Quarter Horse gelding.”
    â€œHe bought him off old Mrs. Reed,” Pat interrupted. “Her husband and mine used to do business. Any-who, she had two horses. Chubs got one. Spider Spidell bought the other, a chestnut mare.”
    I nodded. So far I wasn’t getting this.
    â€œSpider’s horse is no better than mine!” Mr. Baines insisted like I’d just said it was. “Although to hear Spider tell it, he got the bargain and I got the lemon.”
    â€œCan’t I just hear the two of you going at it!” Pat exclaimed. “These boys competed over everything in school! Basketball, football, girls! And they haven’t outgrown that nonsense, have you, Chubs?”
    Mr. Baines’s face flushed. “We got carried away. One thing led to another, and we ended up with a showdown. We gave ourselves one week to practice. Then his horse is going up against mine in a barrel race.”
    I cleared my own throat. “But you got a good horse, right?”
    â€œI did!” Baines insisted. “Only the fool horse has gone downhill since we brought it home. The more my son rides that gelding, the worse it gets. He can’t even get