Book Three - Wild Wild West

Rascal was sitting on the windowsill, looking sadly out the window. Grandma Calico was gone. She had gone to the other side of the rainbow where all cats go when their time in this life has come to an end. Rascal began writing in his diary. He knew that Grandma was happy and free from the disease. Philosopher was reading a book. Lumby did not understand the situation but he could feel the sadness of all the other cats. He was lying near the window, observing a fly on the window taking an autumn sun bath. Sofia was crying in the corner of the room; Dandy was comforting Snow. Bunny was sad too, knowing that he would never again hear all those interesting stories about the old times that Grandma Calico used to tell them.
Philosopher closed his book and made his way over to Rascal. “It might be a good idea for us to take a little walk outside. Help us to get our minds off of our sadness. What do you think, brother?”
“I think that's a very good idea, Philosopher. Sofia is not handling Grandma Calico's absence well at all. I think a little adventure might be a good thing today.”

So, to take their minds off their sadness, the cats decided to venture into the forest. Rascal led the way, then Philosopher, with three-month-old Lumby jumping alongside him. Then came Bunny, with Snow and Dandy. Last came Sofia , murmuring something about guilt and shame going into the old mine that the cats had found on their last journey into the forest. A sign above the entrance announced, “Danger!”
“Hey, Rascal, look and read,” pointed Philosopher.
“Don't worry, my brother, it says we can go in and there will be lots of adventure waiting for us ahead. Look! It's a Cat Hole! Hmm, maybe we'll find something interesting inside.”
It was not the Enchanted Forest so the cats did not find Prehistoric Cat Samuel. Soon after entering the large, round mine tunnel, Rascal saw a ghost cat. Rascal was ready to go back when the ghost said with a faint voice, “Please help me.”
“Who's there?” asked Sofia almost bumping into Rascal.
“It…it…is a cat,” murmured Rascal, looking intently at the transparent image of a cat floating in the air.
“Holy Cat!” said Philosopher, who was just behind Sofia .
“What's that?” asked the other cats.
“Please, help me,” said the ghost cat.
Meanwhile, Rascal thought about it and asked, “How can we help you?”
“Come closer and sit down. I will explain all.”
The cats sat down. Bunny's eyes were wide open. Snow was trembling. Sofia was praying, and Lumby said, “Hi! Why are you so pale? You're almost transparent. You look cool! I want to be a ghost, too.”
The ghost cat smiled and said, “A long time ago I was in the flesh like you guys. I had a nice life.”
“So, what are you doing here?” asked Dandy.
“I'll tell you. My name is Wandering Sheriff and I helped tame the Wild West. Then I promised to write a book about that because nobody knows how very helpful cats were in saving the Wild West. I said that I would write it tomorrow. But tomorrow was again tomorrow and still I did not write. Tomorrow never comes, because tomorrow is always tomorrow! Now I'm a ghost but not a writer.”
“Don't worry, our Rascal is a writer, but not a ghost. He will help you for sure. Right, Rascal?” asked Philosopher.
“He never says tomorrow, he does everything right now, never waiting. So far he wrote three books, diaries,” added Snow.
“That's right, I can even write while I'm sleeping,” said Rascal, smiling. But then in a more serious tone, he said to the ghost cat, “Okay, I will write for you everything you tell me. That way I will set you free and you can go to the other side of the rainbow bridge, is that true?”
“When you get there say hello to our Grandma Calico. She went to the other side of the rainbow too,” said Snow.
“I promise!” said the ghost cat.
“I promise, too! I will write your book. I will write only the truth, but if I forget the truth I will invent the truth,” said Rascal, and looked at Wandering Sheriff for a hint about what to do next.
Wandering Sheriff was quiet for a moment, thinking about how to begin. “We have to go back in time and I will show you the Wild West and how it really was. That way you don't have to invent because you will be there and you will feel, smell, and see everything with all your senses.”
“Yes!” agreed the cats.
The transparent ghost cat was floating in the air. The rest of the cats followed him through the copper mine, along old corridors and down holes. Rascal noticed that with every minute Wandering Sheriff was more visible and he began to walk, not float. His color was the same orange as Rascal's, but he didn't have dark spots on his nose and he was much bigger and stronger then Rascal.
After a few hours of making their way through dusty corridors full of stones, they came out into the sunlight. They could see the distant snow-covered mountains. Closer still was a small town. They could see humans going about their business. But they also noticed there were no cars; everyone traveled on horses. On the outskirts of town, they could see small farms and houses.
Wandering Sheriff led them to the sheriff's office. The door was open. Outside the office a black cat was sitting, reading the newspaper. He glanced up and noticed the group of cats. His first reaction was to reach for his guns. With a second glance, he recognized Wandering Sheriff, smiled and said, “Howdy, Partner, and welcome to Cats Valley . It's good to see you looking so well, Wandering Sheriff.”
“Howdy, Black Crow,” said Wandering Sheriff with a smile, then he turned toward Rascal and the cats and said, “This is my right hand cat. He is very smart… the best town sheriff ever.
Rascal looked around the sheriff's office with curiosity. Philosopher was searching through books he had never seen before.
Dandy looked at the newspaper. The headlines read “The Gray Devils Again!” and “Rusty the Persian Headed to Town!” “Who are the Gray Devils and Rusty the Persian?” he asked.
Black Crow answered, “The Gray Devils are Wild McRat's Gang commanded by four brother rats. They keep all the rats banded so strong that nobody can help. The poor cats could do nothing to stop them, having such a well-organized gang. Those four brothers know all cat customs. There have been numerous missing kittens, cat fights, anonymous feline deaths - these tragedies are all a result of their ideas and actions.”
“Where are they now?” asked Snow with a trembling voice.
“They live in a very big place named Don'tGiveADamn Lodge. It's located in a well-guarded place outside of town. And the cats are staying in Consolation Camp, located in the top of the biggest tree.
“Catfish!” swore Wandering Sheriff. “And Rusty the Persian is the meanest gunslinger this side of the Mississippi . As his name hints, he's a rust-colored Persian with the flattest face I've ever seen. Real mean-looking. I've had a showdown with him before. He'll use any trick to get his gun out faster. When I met up with him, I barely escaped. But just in time I saw him move his paw down to his holster and I knew I wasn't going to make it, so I jumped to the side of the nearest building before he could say ‘pickled mice' and got out of town fast. Haven't heard a whisker of him since… until now.”
“What do we have to do?” asked Rascal.
“We must go to Seven Cats Creek and bring all the cats living there to town. They are miners, looking for gold. Then we have to go to Old Cat Crossing and Wild Cat Creek. Then to Hairball Summit, where there are cats farming catnip and raising mice. We have to warn them about the rats. Wild McRat's Gang is attacking every single cat. They want to destroy all cats. As for Rusty, I had the faintest hope that he might be here to help us with the rats, but I honestly don't think that's going to happen. I'm suspicious about his reason to be here, though. We must be alert. Keep an eye out for him.”
“I'll take Dandy, Snow and Sofia with me and go to End of Trail, Dead Mouse Point, and to Smoke in the Valley,” said Black Crow.
“Rascal, Philosopher, Bunny and Lumby will go with me to the rest of the places,” said Wandering Sheriff. “After we warn all the cats there, we also have to get up to Angry Cat Pass.”
Suddenly a strange voice behind them said, “I will go with Dandy's group.”
All the cats turned toward the voice. What a surprise! It was the old cat, Uncle Toothless.
“What are you doing here, Uncle?” asked Rascal. Lumby's eyes opened wide with surprise.
“Well, I saw you guys sneaking around, so I thought it best to keep not only one eye on you, but both eyes… then, well… you know the rest… I'm here and ready to help those cats. I have lots of experience fighting with the rats. I lost all my teeth on them. My Wild West name is DeadYetAlive!”
“What do you think about Rusty the Persian being in town, Uncle?” asked Wandering Sheriff.
“Now, he is the sneakiest gunslinger I have ever seen. We have to be ‘specially keen on his movements.”
All day the cats were very busy running to distant places to warn the rest of the cats. They gathered them together in a hideout named Treasure Trove close to Catfish Lake . This hideout was very close to town.
The cats were wandering along the dusty streets when the Butterfield Stagecoach arrived. Three humans departed the coach and one black dog with a red collar. Rascal watched intently and saw something that looked like a small piece of paper drop from the dog's collar. The dog did not notice. After everyone left Rascal took that small piece of paper and almost let out a yowl while he was reading it. He ran straight to Wandering Sheriff and showed him the note. It said, “Pony Express arriving in town tomorrow. All rats should be ready for action. When nobody is around, neither human nor animal, rats should cut with their sharp teeth all belts connected to the saddle. No more Pony Express!”
“I don't understand,” said Rascal, scratching his ear.
Wandering Sheriff tried to explain. “The Pony Express is the greatest enterprise of modern time. I mean today, as in the year 1860!”
“Why?” asked Rascal, still confused.
“Let me explain it this way. The Butterfield Stagecoach travels 2000 miles in 21 days, but the Pony Express did this same 2000 miles in 10 days.”
“How?”
“Each of the riders galloped full tilt for 35 to 75 miles, then passed the mail to the next relay rider, speeding throughout the day and night without stopping. The riders became local heroes. Crowds of humans continually gathered to cheer them off. They were adventurous young kids with nothing to lose and dreams of adventure and glory spurring them on. Soon to be historical legends William (Buffalo Bill) Cody and James Butler (Wild Bill) Hickok were both Pony Express Riders,” said Wandering Sheriff. “Now the rats want to ruin everything because they do not like civilization.”
“Okay, so we have to be very watchful of those rats,” said Rascal, nodding.