Little Cat's Luck Little cat, searching. Little calico cat searching for a place, a special place to be her very own. What she would do with a special place once she found it, she wasn't sure. Perhaps she would just curl up for a good nap. But if she didn't know what her special place was for, she knew exactly what it would be like. Hidden away, snug, dark, quiet . . . very, very quiet. The little cat, whose name was Patches, by the way, had checked every possible spot in her entire house, looking for her special place. Corners, closets, cupboards. Even the dusty space behind the refrigerator and the floor beneath the kitchen table next to the chipped blue bowl that held her kibble . . . and occasionally a touch of tuna. Nothing was quite right. Not the pillow where she slept next to her girl's sweet breathing. Too open. Not the basement where her man pounded nails and whirled saws. Too noisy. Not the studio where her woman slathered paint. Too smelly! And so, on the day our story begins, Patches sat just inside the window at the front of her house, gazing out at the wide wide world and longing. She licked a paw and ran it over her ginger ear. She washed her black ear next. But just as she was starting on her pretty white face, something caught her eye. Something golden. Something f a l l i n g. Excerpted from Little Cat's Luck by Marion Dane Bauer All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
