Rascal was a slim kitty with shiny black fur and beautiful gold eyes. His favourite food was a juicy ripe persimmon. When he was small he spent the day with me, riding on my forearm between home and our rural hardware store next door. In the station wagon, he rode in back with one claw fastened in the carpet.
One day he jumped up on my desk in the store and wouldn’t settle down for his usual nap. He kept bothering me so that I couldn’t work. Finally I stood up and he headed for the door. I followed, let him out and closed the glass door again as he started down the steps. Immediately, Rascal returned to the door.
Doris, our clerk, said, ‘That’s odd. I just let him in. Maybe he wants you to follow him.’ I opened the door, and Rascal headed down the steps and walked briskly down the path to our house, leading me to the ‘people’ door rather than his own.
Inside, the chimney to our wood stove had separated and the house was filling with smoke. I reached down to pat his head and say thank you, and Rascal trotted off down the yard about his own business, his mission accomplished.

Author: Mary Ann Rais
Country: United States
True story: Yes
Rating: 9 paws down
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