Trapped! (2 page)

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Authors: Peg Kehret

BOOK: Trapped!
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“There wasn’t a bear,” Alex said, “but there was meat in
it, for bait. We used a big stick to make the trap go off so it won’t snap shut on an animal.”

Benjie quickly gathered his spy kit and binoculars and went home with Alex and Rocky. Mr. and Mrs. Kendrill were sitting at the kitchen table with their checkbook, paying bills, when the boys arrived.

Alex’s big white-and-brown cat, Pete, sat on the window ledge, watching the birds at the feeder. He jumped down and hid behind the couch when he heard Benjie’s footsteps pound across the porch. When Benjie was excited, which was often, he talked loudly and moved fast; Pete preferred to watch and listen from a safe place
.

Benjie rushed inside first. “Alex and Rocky found a humongous trap in the woods,” he said, “and they set it off with a big stick. I bet somebody’s trying to catch one of the flying green panthers so they can sell it to a circus.”

“What kind of trap?” Mrs. Kendrill asked.

“It was made of steel bands,” Alex said, “with a piece of meat inside. When we poked the stick at the meat, the trap clamped shut.”


It’s a cat trap!” Pete said. “I’ve heard of those. The humans who set them always claim they’re trying to catch coyotes or skunks, but the truth is they trap a lot of cats that way, including pet house cats. They catch dogs, too.” His tail swished angrily back and forth
.

“It was wicked-looking,” Rocky said. “It would do some serious damage to any animal that stepped in it.”

“That sounds to me like one of those leghold traps,” Mr. Kendrill said. “They aren’t legal in this state anymore. There was an initiative on the ballot a few years back, and the public voted to outlaw leghold traps. Since then, there have been a few attempts at getting the state legislature to reinstate them, but, as far as I know, it hasn’t happened.”


I should hope not,” Pete said. “If cats could vote, those traps would not be legal, that’s for sure. Of course, if cats could vote, a lot of things would be better.

“If that kind of trap isn’t legal,” Mrs. Kendrill said, “maybe we should report this to the sheriff.”

“Or the game warden,” Mr. Kendrill said. “Do you boys know exactly where the trap was? Could you find it again?”

Alex and Rocky looked at each other. “It was way out in the woods,” Alex said, “but I think we could find it.”


This is one more reason why cats are superior to humans,” Pete said. “Cats never set traps—not even mousetraps. Cats never cheat or tell lies, either.

“I think there’s a Department of Fish and Wildlife that handles matters like this,” Mr. Kendrill said.


Is there a Department of Cats?” Pete asked. “Why should the fish and wildlife get their own government agency? Cats are more deserving of representation than trout or moose. Who decides these things? Probably the humans, who know the least about animals. Now if cats were in charge. . . .

“Alex,” Mrs. Kendrill said, “did you forget to feed Pete this morning? I can’t think with all that meowing.”


I’m not meowing,” Pete said. “I’m expressing my opinion about a serious matter.” It was exasperating. He could understand everything the humans said, but they had not yet learned to understand him. The only good part of the situation was that when he talked, they usually thought he was begging for food, which got his bowl refilled more often than it would be otherwise
.

“I fed him,” Alex said. “I think he’s excited because he can tell we’re upset.” He picked up Pete and stroked his fur.

“Lizzy isn’t meowing,” Benjie said.

Pete looked sadly at the black-and-tan-striped kitten that the Kendrills had adopted. It was one of the great disappointments of his life that Lizzy could only speak and understand Cat. Pete had tried to teach her what the humans were saying, but she had never caught on. She didn’t know how to read, either
.

It would be terrible, Pete thought, to go through life unable to read a book or a newspaper. Lizzy couldn’t even look up words in the dictionary, which was one of Pete’s favorite pastimes. Pete was especially fond of words that began with the letters c-a-t. But Lizzy spent her days happily playing with catnip toys and napping in her basket, unaware of what she was missing.

“Let’s tell Mrs. Sunburg what sort of trap you found and ask her advice,” Mrs. Kendrill suggested. “She’ll probably know who to call.”

Pete purred, and snuggled close to Alex. He liked Mrs. Sunburg and her granddaughter, Mary, who lived next door. They were foster parents for an animal rescue group, and they always kept freeze-dried salmon treats on hand for visiting cats.

“Good idea. We’ll go talk to her right now.” Alex put Pete down, then headed for the door with Rocky right behind him.

“Wait for me,” said Benjie, who had one hand in the cookie jar. He quickly removed two snickerdoodles.

“I’ll go with you,” Mr. Kendrill said. “I want to hear what she thinks.”

“So do I,” Mrs. Kendrill said. “I don’t like the idea of you boys finding that trap. One of you could have stepped in it! And who knows how many more of them there are.”

When his family went out the door to head toward the neighbors’ house, Pete slipped out, too, and followed them across the grass. He wanted to hear what Mrs. Sunburg had to say about trapping. A well-informed cat, Pete thought, is a safer cat.

2

A
lex and Rocky
described what they’d found, and drew a sketch of it.

“That’s a leghold trap,” Mrs. Sunburg said. “They’re horrible. They clamp down on the animal’s leg and then—well, you don’t want to hear the details. It makes me sick to think about it.”

“Is that kind of trap legal?” Alex asked.

“Not in this state. The voters outlawed them three years ago. It was about time, if you ask me. More than eighty other countries around the world have banned leghold traps entirely.”

“Either someone doesn’t know the traps are illegal, or they figure they’ll never get caught,” Mary said.

“I don’t think it’s legal to trap at this time of year, regardless of what kind of trap is used,” Mrs. Sunburg said. “Can you find the trap again?”

“Yes,” Rocky replied.

“Good. I’ll call Eric and report this.”

“Eric?” Mr. Kendrill said.

“Eric Rogers. He’s a licensed humane officer, which means he has the authority to make arrests and issue citations. I know him through the wildlife rehabilitation center.” She went to her desk, looked up the number, and called.

“Trapping season ended March 31,” she said, after she hung up. “He’ll try to get here tomorrow afternoon, to take a look. He said all traps are supposed to have an identification tag with either a state ID number or the trapper’s name and address.”

“I didn’t see a tag,” Alex said.

“Neither did I,” said Rocky, “but we weren’t looking for one.”

Mrs. Sunburg said, “Eric told me if there’s no tag, it’s hard to catch a trapper. Unless you see him setting or emptying the traps, or find him selling fresh pelts, it’s hard to prosecute.”

Pete’s tail flipped from side to side when he heard the words “fresh pelts.”

“We could spy on him,” Benjie said. “We could sit in the woods near the trap and wait for him to come, and then take pictures of him setting the trap.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Mrs. Kendrill said. “I don’t want you boys watching that trap. It’s too dangerous.”

“Keep Pete inside, too,” Mr. Kendrill said. “He doesn’t have enough sense to stay out of the woods, and a trap like that would kill him.”

“It wouldn’t kill a flying green panther,” Benjie said. “They’re so strong, they’d bite right through the trap and then they’d fly away.” He snapped his teeth together several times, while he flapped his arms like wings and ran in circles.

“Thanks for your help,” Mr. Kendrill told Mrs. Sunburg. “We knew we should report the trap, but we didn’t know who to call.”

Pete followed his family home. It took all his willpower to remain quiet. He wanted to protest against Mr. Kendrill’s mistaken remark that Pete didn’t have enough sense to stay out of the woods. Pete knew he had plenty of sense, more than the humans, in fact, but he didn’t want to call attention to himself.

The Kendrills had decided that Pete and Lizzy should stay indoors, so Pete had to be cautious about sneaking out. Alex and Benjie sometimes ignored him when he dashed out the door, but Mr. and Mrs. Kendrill were strict about trying to keep him inside.

Lizzy didn’t mind being an indoor cat, but Pete was unable to control his curiosity about what happened beyond his own front door. How could he guard his family and be an effective watch cat if all he did was nap on the rug?

When his people went inside, Pete slid quietly in the door with them.

•  •  •

The next morning, Rocky, Alex, and Mary met after breakfast to plan their day.

“I think we should hike back into the woods where we were yesterday,” Alex said, “and find the trap, and see if it has an ID tag.”

“Your mother said you couldn’t go back there,” Mary said.

“She said not to go back and watch the trap. We aren’t going to watch it; we’ll only go close enough to be sure we can find it again, and to look for an ID.”

Mary raised her eyebrows and gave Alex the kind of look his mother gave him when she knew he was trying to get away with something.

“What if the trapper has moved it?” Rocky said. “If he found the trap set off, with no animal caught, he might have moved it to a different place.”

“All the more reason why you should not be tromping around up there,” Mary said. “What if it has been moved, and you don’t see it? What if one of you steps in it?”

“We’ll be careful,” Rocky said.

“You don’t have to come,” Alex said.

Mary looked from Alex to Rocky. “If you two are going, I’m going, too,” she said. “You might need me to run home and call 911 when your foot is stuck in a trap.”

“Let’s get started,” Alex said.

“What are you going to tell your parents?” Mary asked.

“I don’t have to tell them anything. They left a little while ago with a list of errands that should take them all morning. By the time they get back, we’ll be home. They knew Rocky and I were going to hang out together this morning.”

Mary rolled her eyes. Then she went home, told her grandma that she was going on a hike with Alex and Rocky, got a bottle of water, and rejoined the boys at Alex’s house. She found them in the kitchen, looking dismayed. Benjie was there, too, wearing his spy badge.

“I thought you went with Mom and Dad,” Alex said.

“I didn’t want to go. It’s boring at the grocery store and all those other places. They said I could stay with you. I’m going to sit in my spy station and watch the cars that go past. Maybe I’ll see something suspicious.”

Alex hesitated. He knew he couldn’t leave Benjie here by himself, but he didn’t want to take his brother along, either.

“What are you guys going to do?” Benjie asked.

“We were planning to hike up the hill,” Alex said.

“To the trap?”

“We want to be sure we know where we left the road and headed into the woods, so we can take Eric to the right place when he comes.”

“I’ll go with you,” Benjie said. “That’ll be more exciting than watching cars. Maybe there’ll be a bear in the trap this time or a rhinoceros.”

“If you come along, you have to stay with me,” Alex said. “No running ahead or lagging behind.”

“Okay.” Benjie lifted the cookie-jar lid. “If we’re going far, we’d better have a snack with us,” he said as he took eight chocolate-chip cookies, dropped them in a plastic bag, and added the bag to the backpack he called his spy kit.


I’ll go, too,” Pete said. “Cats have a keen sense of smell, to say nothing of our superior intelligence. If there are traps in those woods, I’ll lead you to them.”

“What if we find another trap?” Benjie asked.

“Then we’ll make a note of where it is and report it.”


If I see that trapper, I’ll shred his pant leg and bite him in the ankle,” Pete said. He went to his scratching post and began sharpening his claws.

“Let’s go,” Alex said. He opened the door, then pushed in on the lock button so it would lock behind them when it closed.

Pete dashed toward the open door, but Alex saw him coming and stuck his foot out to block Pete’s path. Then he scooped up the cat and held him while Rocky, Mary, and Benjie went out
.


Put me down!” Pete yelled. “You’re making a big mistake
if you don’t take me along. I can smell better than you can, and hear better.

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Alex said. “You and Lizzy have to stay inside.”


I’m a spy cat. I’ll look for hidden traps, and I’ll protect you from danger.”

Alex stepped out the door, still holding Pete. Then he pulled the door almost all the way shut, set Pete on the floor inside, and quickly closed the door before Pete could turn around.

“You’re making a categorical mistake,” Pete said. “If you have a catastrophe, I won’t be there to help you.”

Pete had spent an hour that morning reading the dictionary and practicing words that began with the letters c-a-t. He was glad for a chance to use these new words, even though nobody was listening.

He jumped on the window ledge and watched the four children go down the driveway and turn onto Elm Lane. Then he headed for his food bowl, glad to see that Alex had remembered to fill it with crunchies that morning.

If you can’t have what you want, Pete thought, you can always console yourself with a little snack.

•  •  •

To reach the wooded area where they’d found the trap, the kids first needed to hike up the winding, rural road on the far side of their housing development. They set off, with
Rocky and Mary in the lead, and Alex and Benjie close behind.

They passed the small community of Hilltop, where the paved road ended, and continued up the gravel road. Thick stands of trees bordered both sides of the road, making it seem as if they were far out in the wilderness instead of only about two miles from home. According to the county map, most of this land was owned by a large wood-products corporation, with a few private plots here and there.

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