He did know that the owl went suddenly limp and that they plummeted toward the swamp. Strikingly, Frosty was momentarily stunned. He tried dazedly to get up and run away when something else seized him.
He turned to attack this new enemy.
PARTNERS
Twisting himself almost double, Frosty sank his teeth into the fleshy part of Andy's hand and raked with all four paws. Blood welled from the scratches and cuts and dripped onto the dead owl. But instead of flinging the kitten from him, Andy encircled Frosty's neck with his right thumb and forefinger, rendered his front paws ineffective by slipping his other three fingers behind them, grabbed his rear paws with his left hand and stretched him out. He murmured,
"If you aren't the little spitfire!"
Unable to do anything else, Frosty could only glare. The smile that always lingered in Andy's eyes almost flashed to his lips. His face softened. He spoke soothingly,
"You might as well stop it. You'd have a real rough time clawing me all to bits."
Frosty snarled and Andy grinned. He'd never had a cat or thought of getting one, but besides his fighting heart, there was something about Frosty to which he warmed. Without thinking that he too had defied conventional living, Andy recognized something akin to himself. He said firmly,