Ann Martin - Jessi Ramsey, Petsitter

I was beginning to feel awfully nervous. I checked my watch. Two forty-five. A quarter to three. Our special meeting would start in a little over an hour. Could I possibly make it? Was there any way?

I sat down next to Mama and tried hard not to bite my nails.

Then Squirt leaned over from his place on Mama's lap and said, "Pockita?" which is his

way of asking to play patty-cake. We played patty-cake until a girl about Becca's age came into the waiting room with her father. She was holding a kitten, and she headed for the empty seats next to Mama. Her father spoke to the receptionist.

"What an adorable kitten," said my mother as the girl settled herself in a seat.

Immediately the girl stood up again. "Her name is Igga-Bogga," she said. She offered Igga-Bogga to us, and Mama and I took turns holding her, while Squirt patted her.

Igga-Bogga was skinny. And she was pure white, not a patch or a stripe or even a hair of another color anywhere. If she were my cat, I would have named her Misty or Clouds or Creampuff.

I was about to mention those names to the girl, when she spoke up again. "Guess what. It's so sad. Igga-Bogga is deaf."

"Deaf!" I cried.

The girl nodded. "That happens sometimes with white cats."

Her father joined us and he and Mama began talking about white cats being deaf. I looked at my watch. Three-ten. Less than an hour until the special meeting. What could I do? The hamster was my responsibility, my sitting responsibility. If I were baby-sitting on a week-

day afternoon and the parents didn't come home and I had a club meeting to go to — well, I'd just have to miss the meeting, wouldn't I? Sitting responsibilities come first. So right now, a sick hamster came first.

I knew I was right, yet I started tapping my fingers and jiggling my feet. Oh, I hate being late and missing events I'm supposed to go to, and I especially hate upsetting Kristy.

"Miss Ramsey?" It was the receptionist.

My head snapped up. "Yes," I said. "I'm right here."

I picked up the hamster and his box and got to my feet. Next to me, Mama gathered up Squirt and his toys.

I checked my watch for the umpteenth time. Three-thirty! How did it get to be three-thirty? I would have to call Kristy as soon as I could safely step out of the doctor's office.

A nurse led Mama and Squirt and me through a doorway, down a corridor, and into an examining room.

"Hi, there. I'm Doctor West," said a friendly looking man wearing a white lab coat. He stuck his hand out.

Mama and I shook it, and I introduced us.

"So you've got one of the Mancusi pets here?" said Dr. West when the introductions were over. "Let me take a look."

Ill

While Dr. West examined the hamster, I ducked into the waiting room to use the pay phone I'd seen there. First I called Kristy.

". . . so I'm not going to be able to make the meeting," I finished up after I'd told her the story. "I'm really sorry."

"No problem," Kristy replied easily. "You did the right thing."

"I did?" I said. "Even though it's a hamster?"

"The hamster is your sitting charge," said Kristy. "Pets, kids, it doesn't matter. You're being responsible. That's what matters."

"Thanks, Kristy."

"Listen, I'll call the others and tell them the meeting has been postponed. We'll try to arrange it for eleven o'clock tomorrow morning, but call me tonight to check on the time."

"Okay," I said. "Thanks again, Kristy."

I hung up the phone, then dropped in another coin and called Mal to explain why I wouldn't be stopping by her house to pick her up.

When that was done, I returned to Dr. West's office. I found him and my mother grinning.

"What?" I said. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because," answered Mama, "your hamster isn't a he, he's a she. And she is pregnant!"

"I'd say she's going to have her babies within the next twenty-four hours," added Dr. West.

"You were lucky you didn't touch her today. A pregnant hamster should not be handled." Dr. West instructed me to transfer the other hamsters to a separate cage so the mother could be alone with her babies after giving birth. "And don't handle her at all," he said again. "A pregnant hamster is very delicate. Put her back in her cage by lowering the box inside it and letting her crawl out."

"Okay," I replied. Then I thanked Dr. West.

I rode back to the Mancusis' in high spirits. "Just think," I said to Mama. "The hamster is a girl, not a boy, and she's going to have babies! I'll have to give her a name. I want to be able to call her something."

Mama dropped me off and Squirt waved to me from the car window."

"Good-bye!" I called. " 'Bye, Squirt. Thank you for helping me, Mama. I'll be home as soon as I walk the dogs again and do the afternoon chores."

Mama beeped the horn as she drove down the street.

I ran to the Mancusis' garage before I did anything else. There I found the aquarium we had used to capture Barney. I poured shavings into it and added some food and a spare water bottle, and gently moved the hamsters into it. Then, even more gently, I set the shoe box in

the old cage and let the pregnant hamster crawl out.

"What should I call you?" I asked aloud as she settled into her nest in the corner of the cage. "Maybe Suzanne. I always liked that name. . . . No. Suzanne is dumb for a hamster. Chipper? Nah, too cute. And it sounds like a boy's name. Sandy? You are sand-colored. Nah, that's boring. After lots of thinking, I decided to call her Misty, which is what I would name a white kitten if I had one. The hamster wasn't anywhere near white, but I decided that didn't matter. Misty was a good name.

I went home feeling excited. When I came back in the morning, Misty would be a mother!

Chapter 13.

Sunday morning I woke up super-early. I had a lot to do at the Mancusis' before I left for Claudia's. I had to walk the dogs, feed the dogs and cats, and finish the chores I had begun the day before. And of course I wanted to check on Misty and her babies.

I ran straight for Misty as soon as I'd closed the Mancusis' door behind me. When I reached the kitchen, though, I slowed down and tiptoed inside. I peeked into Misty's cage.

Nothing.

Just Misty and her nest and a pile of shavings.

"Oh, you didn't have them yet," I said, feeling disappointed. I began to wonder if Dr. West had been wrong. Then what? Well, the Mancusis would be home in the afternoon. I would tell them the story and let them decide what to do. At least Misty had been to a doctor.

Besides, worrywart, I told myself, Dr. West said the babies would be born in the next

twenty-four hours. There were about seven more hours to go until the twenty-four were up.

So I left Misty to herself, walked the dogs, fed them and the cats, finished the cleaning, and then . . . took off for our special club meeting. I dropped by Mallory's house on the way, since we were still planning to arrive at Claudia's together.

Mallory was waiting on her porch steps. "Hi!" she called when she spotted me.

"Hi," I replied.

Mallory ran across her front lawn. "Did the hamster have her babies yet?" she asked breathlessly. (I'd told Mal everything the night before.)

I shook my head. "Not yet. I wish she had. I wanted her to have them before the Mancusis get back."

"Maybe we could check on her after the meeting," suggested Mal.

"Oh! That's a good idea. We could all come."

Mal made a face at the thought, but the only thing she said was, "Do you know who you're going to vote for?"

I nodded my head slowly. "I think so. I probably won't know for sure until I'm actually voting, but right now I think I know."

"Funny," said Mal. "I feel the same way.. . .

Should we say who we're going to vote for?"

"No," I replied. "Better not. We should go ahead with what we've planned on. If we say anything, we might change each other's minds."