Read an Excerpt

Snakes Don't Miss Their Mothers

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

All right reserved.

ISBN: 0060526246

Chapter One

Is This Really Good-bye?

Irving liked to listen to the adoption interviews, even though in three years no one had ever asked to take him home.

Irving's cage was right around the corner in the kennel, but he could see the front desk at the entrance of Critters. And he could hear everything.

"Do you live in East Hampton, Mr. Twilight?"

"Yes, we live on a boat called Summer Salt II. Our first was lost to Hurricane Harriet down in Florida, last summer."

"How dreadful!" Mrs. Splinter eyed the tall man carefully. She was the guardian angel of the critters. She would never give an animal over to anyone she did not think was kind and responsible. "So you're new in town, Mr. Twilight?"

He had blond hair, a black crewneck sweater, and black Dockers. A big silver belt buckle. Black boots. A big smile.

"We're new for now, ma'am," he said. "We came north so my daughter could dance at Radio City Music Hall. Jimmie's in the Christmas show every year. She plays Twinkle Toes. We'll stick around to see if she gets this new job she's up for. A television commercial."

"Your daughter appears on television?" Mrs. Splinter sounded impressed, but Irving knew she probably wasn't, for her own son was a CNN newscaster.

"Jimmie hasn't been on television yet," said Mr. Twilight. "Her agent arranged an appointment for her withthe head of BrainPower Limited. We've always been in show business, but we're mainly circus people."

"Oh, dear me," said Mrs. Splinter. "I don't like the way circuses treat animals. They're so often cruel."

"I wouldn't work for a circus that was cruel to its animals," Mr. Twilight said. "Where I worked, we treated all our animals like family."

"Good! But now you're leaving the circus?" Mrs. Splinter asked.

"Yes, for my daughter's sake. She needs to be with kids her own age. Regular kids. Now, with her mother gone, she needs a more normal life. I've decided to get off the road."

"What will you do, Mr. Twilight?"

"Call me Sam. I work as a clown for children's parties. And I rent the boat out for picnics and moonlight sails. This time of year, I get gigs as Santa Claus."

"And have you ever owned a cat, Sam?"

"No. My wife always had Siamese when she was a kid, but after we were married we got a little dog for Jimmie. A Boston terrier who could dance on his hind legs.
I don't see any little dogs here."

"There are none," Mrs. Splinter said.

There never were little dogs in residence at Critters, not for long. Everyone wanted a cute little poodle, a terrier, a dachshund, even a bedraggled mutt, if he was small.

Irving sighed. Irving was twelve years old. He was white with great splashes of brown, and he was big. He was mostly a German shorthaired pointer, but there was a bit of English setter in him, too.

Sam Twilight said, "I couldn't bring home a dog, anyway. No dog could hold a candle to Dancer. That was our dog's name."

Mrs. Splinter said, "How old is your daughter, Mr. Twilight?"

"She's eleven, ma'am."

"I have a grandson who's that age. Walter. He's an animal lover, as I am. . . . Did you say your daughter's name was Jimmie?"

"Her name is spelled with an ie," said Sam Twilight. "My wife named her Jimmie after Jimmie Spheeris. I suppose you don't know him?"

"No, I don't."

"He was a songwriter. He was from circus people, too. So when he made it big in the Real World, my wife would make everybody listen to his songs. Then a drunk driver ran him down when he was only thirty-four. Our boat's named after one of his songs."

"Is Jimmie an animal lover?"

"Oh, yes. Her Boston terrier went to heaven at the same time her mom did, but Jimmie has carried on like the little trouper she is. That's why I want her to have a new pet to love. Pets help heal you when you're down. And when you feel up again, they're up with you! At least that's what I think."

"I think so too. Yes. Yes, Sam." Mrs. Splinter's voice was soothing, a sign she was warming to this Twilight fellow, with his sad story and his optimistic spirit. She said, "Now, you realize that the cat you picked out was declawed. His last owner had that done! He can't go outdoors. He wouldn't be able to protect himself, climb trees, scratch attackers, or any of that."

"Fine, because he'll live aboard Summer Salt II, which is moored at Three Mile Harbor."

"You'll have to keep him inside, you realize. If he ever fell overboard, he could not cling to anything without his claws."

"We take excellent care of animals, Mrs. Splinter. Like I said, my family considers them family."

"Well, so far so good," said Mrs. Splinter. "Do you think Jimmie would like to see Placido before you adopt him?"

"No, ma'am. It's to be a surprise."

Placido? Irving's ears pricked up, and he shook away some drool from his large lips. Don't tell me Placido's going out again, he thought. That was the way they always put it at Critters when Placido was adopted: "going out." That left room in the mind for the idea of Placido coming back. For that was what always happened when anyone took the large, one-eyed Siamese home. He went out, and then he came right back. His fake-leopard-skin carrying case was a familiar sight on the floor in the front room.

Irving doubted that Placido would last through Christmas with the man and his daughter. It was now the twenty-third of December. Lately, Placido's usual stay was twenty-four hours.

Continues...

---

Excerpted from Snakes Don't Miss Their Mothers
by M. Kerr
Copyright © 2006 by M. Kerr.
Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

---