Princess the Cat Strikes Gold: Princess the Cat, #5

By John Heaton

Princess the Cat must dig deep… for gold!

When a mysterious man in black arrives at the same time disaster strikes Princess the Cat's neighborhood, it can't be an accident.

But if Princess the Cat can find the legendary Rio Grande Gold, her problems will blow away in the wind like a tumbleweed. Too bad a gang of robbers, birds of prey, and a host of other enemies await her in the Canyon where the gold—allegedly—hides.

For her fifth adventure, Princess the Cat is joined once again by Max, Chief, the dog next door, and a host of friends, both old and new.

Can Princess the Cat strike gold to save her neighborhood, or will the bad guys win?

Princess the Cat Strikes Gold is the fifth in a series of middle-grade novels for readers in grades 3-6. You can read this as the fifth in the series, or begin the series here. If you and your children like animals, action, and laughing yourselves silly, then you'll love John Heaton's perfect-for-all-ages series.

Buy Princess today to make hilarious story time fun for the whole family!

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Heaton
• Release date: Dec 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393277781

Book preview

1

Ablack sports car rumbles into the driveway next door. I jump to the ground and run towards the front of the house and the neighbor’s garage. If anybody gets out of that car and goes to speak to Chief’s owner, I must hear what they say.

Chief is the elderly dog next door. Chief serves as my most valued adviser and has done so since I began running this neighborhood. I spend plenty of time perched on top of the fence and talking with him. But today, Chief’s owner has been sitting on his back porch and hugging Chief while crying.

And now, something is very wrong in Chief’s household. But I don’t know what.

The sports car’s door swings open, and a polished black shoe at the end of a dark pant leg settles onto the ground. Another follows. A tall and chiseled man clad in a black suit emerges. Short and rigid blond hair crowns his head. Through black sunglasses he looks about the surroundings as he adjusts his cuff links.

His eyes settle on me. He sneers. Get out of here, furball.

I move away, but not to obey him. I hurry to the front door so I can eavesdrop on what he says to Chief’s owner. The man takes a few quick strides towards me. He swings his foot.

I dodge. His foot misses. I release a hiss and hop beneath a nearby bush.

I don’t want to soil my shoes with your stink anyway, the man says, and then he spits at me. Watch out so I don’t back over you when I leave. I would hate to dirty my car’s tires.

The man approaches the front door and presses the doorbell. As he waits, he lifts his black sunglasses to rest them on top of his head. I catch a glimpse of his eyes. They’re nearly black.

The front door opens, but I can’t see who’s there. It must be Chief’s owner’s wife.

Your husband isn’t man enough to face me? the suited man says coldly. He rests his hands on his hips and puffs his chest out. Tell him he’s done. The object is missing. Stolen. And it’s his fault. He’s fired, and he’d better get out of town. I notice a gun in a holster on the man’s belt. He puts his sunglasses down to cover his eyes before finishing. Him and all his worthless animals.

I’m not his animal, I think to myself with disgust.

Get off our property, the woman replies.

It won’t be yours much longer. His head leans to one side to look past the woman and into her house.

We’re not moving anywhere, she shoots back. But her voice wavers.

The front door slams shut.

We’ll see. The black-clad invader chuckles to himself, turns, and walks to his car.

I move to follow the man. He suddenly turns and kicks at me again. This time, he catches me off guard. The toe of his shoe nicks me in the ribcage.

I release a yowl of pain as I knock into a wall.

The man walks back to his black sports car with a swagger and mutters, Nasty furball.

Moments later, I watch with disdain as he gets into his sports car, peels into reverse, and zooms away.

I retrace my route back to my house next door, wincing in pain.

As I do so, music starts playing in my house. The oldest girl child, a teenager, is blaring music on her stereo.

Girls just wanna have fun… the tune goes. I’ve heard it more times than a barnyard of cats has lives.

It gives me an idea. That man in the black suit seemed more rotten than three-week-old tuna and not to be messed with. But what did he see inside Chief’s house? I’m gonna have fun with this and find out. And maybe I’ll learn something to get back at that man who kicked me and called me a mean name.

I soon meet Max, the other cat who lives in my house. He’s orange with a white spot on his back. He’s annoyingly cute, but he understands that I’m in charge.

Max, I say, I will sneak into Chief’s house and discover what’s wrong. There’s a big problem, but I don’t know exactly what yet. I think that man saw something inside Chief’s house.

Wonderful! Max responds. Chief will be so thankful for your help.

I decide not to tell Max I heard that Chief and his owner must move. Telling him now would break his heart.

You stay here, I order Max. This operation requires the utmost stealth, and you can hardly catch a butterfly.

Hey, Max protests. I prefer watching butterflies, not catching them.

But I’m not there to answer. I’m already approaching the back door of Chief’s house.

Chief’s owner embraces him on the back doorstep. His shoulders quake with sobbing. The back door is open behind him.

I slide past the commiserating couple, cross the threshold, and enter Chief’s house.

Based on my experience in this house during a previous adventure, it is not what I expect.

2

Cardboard boxes litter the rooms before me. They aren’t like the Christmas packages I encountered last time I was here. Instead, they are drab and brown. A fine layer of dust covers some, with human belongings sticking out, but fresh packing tape seals others. A wooden ladder descends from the attic near the hallway. I spot the woman of the house bustling around, removing items and rearranging them in the boxes. She mutters to herself with an angry tone.

This is not a human behavior I’ve observed before.

Without time to marvel at the futility of human action and ingenuity, I must scour this household for clues. First, I intend to make my way to Chief’s owners’ bedroom.

I’m about to proceed, but suddenly the home goes quiet. I peek up over a box and see that the woman is nowhere in sight. My ears rotate a few degrees and twitch but detect no threats. This is my chance to infiltrate deeper.

I move from behind the first box and slink my way to the second. I pause and reassess. Still, no noise. I continue, faster now, among the boxes towards the hallway. The humans’ bedroom awaits at the end. The hallway light is off, and it’s darker. This poses no problem for my superior eyesight. I step past the wooden ladder descending from the attic and creep along the corridor.

My paws squish silently into the carpet. My approach must be stealthy. There is no cover in the hallway, and if the woman catches me, she will undoubtedly secure the house and make it impossible for me to reenter.

I’m almost to the door. I hope it isn’t latched. Doorknobs challenge me. However, if the door is open even a crack—I am an expert at opening those.

Did you find anything? Max asks me from behind.

I jump into the air and land with an arched back and puffy fur.

Max! I hiss at him. What are you doing here? I told you to stay.

Sorry, Max says, flashing his blue eyes. I was hoping to get some eggnog.

Chief’s owner had displayed an unreasonable love for the beverage during one of my earlier adventures. Eggnog is seasonal, and it’s now summer, I point out.

Oh, and I wanted to remind you that you are due to appear before the Cat Congress of the First Feline Republic, Max says. You must be there to confirm their election of the first Speaker of the House. It will look like you don’t support the new Republic if you’re not there.

Of course, I’ll be there, I tell Max. If that woman catches you in here—

But I don’t have time to finish.

The bedroom door before us moves.

Instinctively, I race away from the door and towards Max. He pivots and runs ahead of me.

A whisker of a second later, I see Max as an orange blur zoom up the ladder and into the attic.

What is he thinking?!

I have half a mind to abandon him and continue out the front door. But I know Chief would want us to stick together. Besides, I don’t prefer to go to the Cat Congress early anyway.

I race up the steps into the attic and peer down into the hallway. My chest heaves as I watch the woman pass below. That’s why the house was quiet. She was in her bedroom. She carries items in and out and places them in cardboard boxes.

It will be tough for Max and me to sneak out of this attic without her seeing us, I realize. But we can’t risk being up here too long. If she shuts the attic, she will trap Max and me. And who knows what creepy things are hiding up here?

Max shares a different opinion because he exclaims, Wow! This place is awesome! Check it out.

My eyes adjust to the attic’s dim light. More cardboard boxes give structure to the jumble of belongings. The nearest boxes are open, with dates scrawled on them in black marker. A peek inside reveals stacks of photographs. I hold back a sneeze as I notice an old rack of clothes.

Max? I whisper. Where did you go?

"Reach for the sky, pardner, Max says with a drawl. He steps out from behind the rack of clothes. A brown cowboy hat covers not only his head but also his back. Ha-ha. I’m a cowboy."

Stop messing around, I chide him. We can’t get trapped in here.

Max ignores me.

You find any gold in these here parts?

You’re not a cowboy, I remind Max. Stop goofing off. This is serious. To help Chief, we need answers, not a fashion show.

The brim of the cowboy hat dips. Max exhales a discontented sigh.

Let’s get out of here before the woman shuts us in, I say.

Fine.

The cowboy hat drops to the floor after Max brushes it off with frustration.

I steal one last glance downward to check for the wife. I listen but only hear the man, still crying on the back steps.

Look, Princess! Max says. I turn with disdain and see a small something resting at Max’s feet. "This paper was