“OK, now, Chelsea. You have to listen to me extra, extra hard, OK? You need to be very, very quiet tonight, OK? As quiet, quiet, quiet as you can be. As quiet, quiet, quiet as you have ever been in your whole, entire life. OK?”

            Chelsea the Cat looked at Emily, briefly, then looked away with as much disinterest as possible, the way tangerine tabbies can do so effectively.

            “Mister was so, so mad this morning, and you don’t want to see that again, do you?”

            Of course, at eight-and-a-half years old, Emily knew Chelsea was not going to answer her, though she knew she could if she wanted to. But that’s why she liked cats and had always thought they were much smarter than dogs. And they didn’t drool all over you, like Buster at the place before did. Or eat her doll’s head.

            “I’m serious, now, Chelsea. And you’ve got another thing coming to you if you think this is a laughing matter. So, I would just wipe that smirk off your face, unless you want me to wipe it off for you.”

            Really, Mister wasn’t so bad. Missus could be kind of grouchy sometimes, but Emily knew she had a nice side to her she didn’t show to too many people. She’d seen it when they came to meet her, before taking her. That’s when they told her she could have a cat and a rabbit and a goldfish, all of them, if she was good.

            And they were so much nicer than the others, a whole lot nicer, most of the time. Just that day, Mister let her move Chelsea’s box and bowls into her bedroom to help keep her quiet.

            “You remember what happened to Fluffy, don’t you, Chelsea? When Mister got so mad at all the Cocoa-Puffs in the living room, and he had to take her to that farm where she could make Cocoa-Puffs anywhere she wanted, anytime she wanted? You don’t want Mister to take you to some ol’ nasty farm, too, do you?”

            In the morning, Mister held Emily by her shoulders and told her how bad Chelsea had been that night and how loud she’d been and told her she was going to be so much happier on the farm with her friend, Fluffy, and then he sent her to her room where she cried all day into her pillow.

           When Mister came home that evening, he knocked on her door and came into her room and sat on her bed and put his long arm across her shoulders and held her while she cried, until he wiped her tears with his thumb and took her by her hand and walked her into the kitchen, where Missus served bowls of stew she said she’d made especially for Emily, since she was so sad and crying and missing Chelsea the cat.

From Milly Mahoney-Dell'Aquila: