Tannie says Butt is a pacifist — that means he loves peace.
Butt is the cutest cat I’ve ever seen. He’s orange and white, with the sweetest pink nose and dainty little feet for a tomcat. He prances around Tannie’s house, swishing his tail, always with his bottom high in the air — that’s how he got his name.
He’s also the smartest cat I’ve ever met. When Butt is thirsty for cool water, he takes Tannie’s finger in his mouth and pulls her to the sink. If Butt is hungry for a snack, he paws at the pantry. When it’s too hot outside for yard work, Butt makes Tannie go inside. Ever since Saint Louis died, Butt has been Tannie’s best friend.
I kicked the quilt away and dangled one foot off the bed. I wished I could blink twice and be at Tannie’s farm.
I tried counting sheep, but the sheep turned into clucking chickens . . . and then a crowing rooster.
I closed my eyes to find my Olympic dream again. Instead, I dreamed of Tannie’s fruit orchard, with strawberries in the spring, blueberries in the summer, and apples in the fall. I dreamed of how Tannie’s chickens always let me reach under their soft, warm feathers to take enough fresh eggs for breakfast.
Where else could there be, besides the farm, for Tannie and Butt?
T hose dreamy chickens would have let me keep right on sleeping, but the high-whistling
weeeeeeeet
of Mom’s teakettle started calling for morning the way a rooster does while it’s dark. I flipped over to my right and eyeballed the clock by my bed. Six o’clock! Roosters and teapots should learn to sleep late.
I pulled the covers back over my head, but the smell of biscuits in the oven came slinking up the stairs.
SST! SST! SST!
the sound of bacon went popping through the hall. Floppy bacon is my favorite.
And that mockingbird was still carrying on in the holly tree. If Tannie were here, she would say, “That bird has worked herself into a tizzy!”
Then, quick as anything, I remembered about Tannie’s fragile bones. I hoped Tannie wasn’t in too much pain. Mom says whenever I’m worried, I should sing to my guardian angel. (Just what you’d expect from somebody named Grace.) While I dressed for school, I made up an angel song for Tannie:
Go fast to Tannie; don’t stop on the way,
Tell her I’m with her, all night and all day.
Help her get stronger, Give her hugs and good care.
My guardian angel, I want you to share
A hug and kiss right on her face.
Tell her it’s from us: Jenna and Grace.
When I finished my song, I blinked twice and sent my angel fast from our little yellow house in Virginia all the way to Tannie’s big white farmhouse in Mississippi.
Today Mom didn’t rush me or hurry me up. She didn’t count down from ten or say, “Jenna, hop-to! The school bus will be here in seven minutes!”
Mom sat down and drank her coffee, while I ate all of the floppy bacon she made and three entire jelly biscuits. I wished we had a big breakfast like this every day. On most school days, I have plain oatmeal.
I sang my angel song for Mom. But I did not sing with my mouth full. Mom started to cry. She wiped her eyes and said, “Teach your angel song to me, then we’ll sing it together!”
Mom and I sang my song over and over, until we heard the school bus come rumbling down our street.
Mom looked at her watch. “Jenna, we’re late.”
VROOM-VROOM-VROOM!
The living-room windows started to shake, the way they do when the bus rolls on past my stop.
“Gracious, we’ve missed the bus again.”
I wrapped an extra biscuit in a napkin for later in the day.
On the way to school, Mom surprised me. “I’ve been thinking about something, and I’d like you to think about it, too. Jenna, we’re all the family Tannie has left in the world. I’d like to ask Tannie to come live with us.”
With us?
I said to myself.
Awesome!
I thought.
Tannie and Butt will be with us all the time!
“With us?” I said out loud. “Sweet! Tannie’s coming to live with us!”
Mom
Butt is the cutest cat I’ve ever seen. He’s orange and white, with the sweetest pink nose and dainty little feet for a tomcat. He prances around Tannie’s house, swishing his tail, always with his bottom high in the air — that’s how he got his name.
He’s also the smartest cat I’ve ever met. When Butt is thirsty for cool water, he takes Tannie’s finger in his mouth and pulls her to the sink. If Butt is hungry for a snack, he paws at the pantry. When it’s too hot outside for yard work, Butt makes Tannie go inside. Ever since Saint Louis died, Butt has been Tannie’s best friend.
I kicked the quilt away and dangled one foot off the bed. I wished I could blink twice and be at Tannie’s farm.
I tried counting sheep, but the sheep turned into clucking chickens . . . and then a crowing rooster.
I closed my eyes to find my Olympic dream again. Instead, I dreamed of Tannie’s fruit orchard, with strawberries in the spring, blueberries in the summer, and apples in the fall. I dreamed of how Tannie’s chickens always let me reach under their soft, warm feathers to take enough fresh eggs for breakfast.
Where else could there be, besides the farm, for Tannie and Butt?
T hose dreamy chickens would have let me keep right on sleeping, but the high-whistling
weeeeeeeet
of Mom’s teakettle started calling for morning the way a rooster does while it’s dark. I flipped over to my right and eyeballed the clock by my bed. Six o’clock! Roosters and teapots should learn to sleep late.
I pulled the covers back over my head, but the smell of biscuits in the oven came slinking up the stairs.
SST! SST! SST!
the sound of bacon went popping through the hall. Floppy bacon is my favorite.
And that mockingbird was still carrying on in the holly tree. If Tannie were here, she would say, “That bird has worked herself into a tizzy!”
Then, quick as anything, I remembered about Tannie’s fragile bones. I hoped Tannie wasn’t in too much pain. Mom says whenever I’m worried, I should sing to my guardian angel. (Just what you’d expect from somebody named Grace.) While I dressed for school, I made up an angel song for Tannie:
Go fast to Tannie; don’t stop on the way,
Tell her I’m with her, all night and all day.
Help her get stronger, Give her hugs and good care.
My guardian angel, I want you to share
A hug and kiss right on her face.
Tell her it’s from us: Jenna and Grace.
When I finished my song, I blinked twice and sent my angel fast from our little yellow house in Virginia all the way to Tannie’s big white farmhouse in Mississippi.
Today Mom didn’t rush me or hurry me up. She didn’t count down from ten or say, “Jenna, hop-to! The school bus will be here in seven minutes!”
Mom sat down and drank her coffee, while I ate all of the floppy bacon she made and three entire jelly biscuits. I wished we had a big breakfast like this every day. On most school days, I have plain oatmeal.
I sang my angel song for Mom. But I did not sing with my mouth full. Mom started to cry. She wiped her eyes and said, “Teach your angel song to me, then we’ll sing it together!”
Mom and I sang my song over and over, until we heard the school bus come rumbling down our street.
Mom looked at her watch. “Jenna, we’re late.”
VROOM-VROOM-VROOM!
The living-room windows started to shake, the way they do when the bus rolls on past my stop.
“Gracious, we’ve missed the bus again.”
I wrapped an extra biscuit in a napkin for later in the day.
On the way to school, Mom surprised me. “I’ve been thinking about something, and I’d like you to think about it, too. Jenna, we’re all the family Tannie has left in the world. I’d like to ask Tannie to come live with us.”
With us?
I said to myself.
Awesome!
I thought.
Tannie and Butt will be with us all the time!
“With us?” I said out loud. “Sweet! Tannie’s coming to live with us!”
Mom
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