The cat proved harder to catch that Tassie had anticipated. The cage full of crickets hadn’t worked, and neither had the live mouse (though she saw an excited flick of tail from the corner of her eye). Finally, it was the bowl of cold milk with the dollop of warm honey that did the job.
The cat materialized slowly, his pert nose first, then the rest of him, sniffing.
He spotted her immediately, crouching in the mud under the dripping lilacs. He licked at the honey and milk, grin broad.
”I believe we shall have great fun together,” he said.