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Show Inside Out, 101 She sat down on a kitchen chair and held the kitten to her, tears smarting her eyes. The kitten didn't want to be held and struggled to get down. She finally set him down and he went into the living room. What should she do? What should she do? She calmed herself with some slow breaths. Think. In the hallway was the first aid kit. She tiptoed into the hall and slid it out silently. Back in the kitchen, she opened it and set out alcohol, cotton balls, antibiotic cream. Then she spread a kitchen towel on the counter. She couldn't hear him now. Where had he gone? If she didn't find him, he would get blood on the carpet. She went into the living room. She was grateful for the light coming from the windows. She began a methodical search through the room, listening to her father breathe as she went. Finally there was only behind the couch left to search. It was one of Atticus's favorite places. She bent carefully over her father and peeked around-and, sure enough, there was Atticus, hunched up, staring at her. She reached down and scooped him up, but when she stood, she saw her father watching her. "What's wrong?" he asked. "I'm sorry, Dad. It's Atticus. He's been in a fight." He threw off the covers and sat up. "I'll help you." "No, it's OK. Go back to sleep. You have work tomorrow. I'm fine." "Have you ever tried to wash a cat?" |