Sneaky Pie for President Read Free Page A

it’s true I cannot say I discern their purpose, or any sort of pattern.”
    The tiger nodded at the titmouse, who was smarter than Sneaky Pie had first thought. “When you live with one or two humans, you become close. They’re not half bad, and they really try, or at least mine does. You train them by using a system of rewards. Works better than pecking their eyes out.”
    “So you actually think you can get your human to see what we need?” Glynnis was now fascinated.
    “I do,” answered Sneaky. “Now, it’s a big step from that to becoming a presidential candidate. If enough of us band together, we might get some serious attention. Obviously, they’re not that bright. It might take them a while to hear our message, but it’s worth a try. Working together is the only shot we have. We must lead by example. If we can get along and unite for a cause, why can’t they?”
    A silence followed this. “You’re right.” The second of the Tree Swallows plucked out a chest feather, holding it in her beak.
    Joe shrewdly negotiated, “A moratorium on cats hunting birds?”
    “Well—” Pewter was about to screw the whole deal.
    “I can work on that, but I promise that Pewter and I will not kill any of you.”
    “Let us think about it,” the Black-crested Titmouse suggested, and the other birds chirped in agreement. “We have no reason to trust a cat.”
    “You have a reason to trust this cat.” The tiger sounded convincing.
    The female Tree Swallow dropped her chest feather. The white feather slowly twirled downward until it hovered right above the tiger cat. She then dropped off the branch and, with that speed and grace peculiar to all the swallows, zoomed in front of Sneaky’s nose, snatching the feather right out of the air.
    The other birds gasped.
    Given to expressions of emotion, Glynnis shouted, “You could have been killed!”
    The Tree Swallow flew back to her friend, who chided her, “That was damned foolish.”
    “But a good test. Besides, I can fly at a right angle if I have to.”
    Her friend nodded but secretly thought that no bird should ever trust a cat’s reflexes, even an old one like that fatty.
    “If you promise to work with me,” Sneaky called up, “I will not harm a feather on any of you should you join my movement.”
    “We’ll think it over.” The Downy Woodpecker was impressed but wanted to confer with his winged companions.
    A high-pitched scream overhead silenced the assembled. A large shadow played down on the cats, then a two-foot Red-shouldered Hawk alighted on a sturdy sycamore branch.
    “Don’t fly away,” the big raptor commanded the smaller birds. “You’re safe. I know some of my cousins chase after you for sport, but I don’t eat birds.”
    “Art, where were you?” Joe, fearless as only Tufted Titmice can be, called the big fellow by his name.
    “By the pond, watching the pasture,” the hawk replied. “Heard all this talk over here.” His dark eyes and black curved beak pointed down to the two cats. “It’s one thing to make a promise to these squirts. What about hawks, falcons, goshawks, ospreys, eagles?”
    “We’re all Americans. We share the earth.” Sneaky’s green eyes met those of the bird, who was bigger than she was. “And let me tell you something, Art. You have federal protection, but that doesn’t protect the land or the waters. Just means you can’t be hunted.”
    “Hm-m-m.”
Art glanced around at the other birds, breathlessly awaiting his response.
    “We need one another,” Sneaky said, voice clear.
    “What about the game I hunt?” Art wondered. “How can you represent both me and mice? Have you thought of that?”
    “I have.” Well, she hadn’t really, but she’d wing it—so to speak. “If our living places, the foods we eat, are not polluted, poisoned, or plowed under for a housing development, things will balance out. I can’t tell you not to hunt mice. I can only tell you to trust a natural balance. That’swhy