MARGALO AND THE FALCON
CHAPTER ONE: HUNGRY ORPHANED BIRD
Margalo was a young canary who had recently been orphaned. Her family had been killed during a storm, which had knocked a large tree branch onto the family nest. She had been the only survivor. It was lucky that she had already learned to fly, or else she'd have died from hunger and thirst in the tree that had once been her family's nest.
Over the past few days, she had tried to get by on her own. Even with the ability to fly, however, she was fairing poorly. While she could get water, she was struggling to find food. Her two-part stomach growled loudly and she could see, in her reflection in a puddle, a haggard and thin-looking young bird. She tried not to think of what was going to happen to her if she didn't find enough food within the next day or two. She knew that if she gave into despair, she'd just lay down on the ground and wait to die.
She flew to the top of a Dumpster, pried open the lid and climbed inside. While she didn't think the contents would be very appetizing, a starving bird couldn't exactly be picky. And so, she dove in, tearing through trash bags and trying to find something edible. She was disgusted by the foul odors from the trash bags, but her proventriculus and gizzard were growling loudly, craving food.
She rifled through one bag, finding mostly trash, but also an orange. It wasn't at all ripe. Indeed, it was starting to rot. Still, it might keep her alive. As she was about to eat it, however, she heard an angry hiss and meowl.. A hungry street cat had climbed into the Dumpster and now was greedily eyeing her. The cat didn't have a lot of meat on him and she knew that even a young, starving bird such as herself would be viewed as a decent meal to this half-starved cat.
She quickly flew out of the Dumpster, narrowly avoiding the grabbed claws of the cat as she flew past the top. She sighed with relief. While she hadn't gotten anything to eat, she had also avoided being eaten. Thus, she had something to be grateful for, as bad as her situation was.
She didn't find any food the rest of that day and came to lay down, in an old cardboard box, for the night. Her two-part stomach was growling loudly now. Still, hungry as she was, she knew she had to get sleep. She simply had to have the energy to find food tomorrow. If she didn't, she knew that, by the end of the day, she'd be so weak that she couldn't fly or move, and would slowly die as hunger claimed her young life. Her body, if it wasn't eaten by some hungry street animal, would be tossed unconcernedly into some garbage can, where it would rot in some landfill, out of sight and out of mind of the world. As she went to sleep, trying to hold back tears, she hoped that that wouldn't be her fate.

CHAPTER TWO: THE VULTURE
Margalo didn't have any luck finding food the following morning. She could feel herself weakening by the afternoon. Still, she had to keep herself moving for as long as she could, knowing that once she started to lay down, it would be all over and she would die of hunger.
Thus, it was, around noon, that as she was foraging for food in a trash bag, she saw a vulture eyeing her threateningly. The creature had been following her for an hour now, noticing her weakened state. This one isn't long for this world. he thought to himself. Might as well do my job as nature's clean up crew.
As she saw the vulture start to lick his lips, she knew she had been selected as prey. "Oh don't!" she implored him.
"I don't see why I shouldn't. You probably won't make it through the night. You'll certainly be a corpse by the time tomorrow morning is over. And I prefer my meals fresh, not starting to rot. Surely you'll pardon me for not waiting the few more hours it will take for you to die properly."
Though she knew that, long term, fleeing was futile, her self-preservation instincts kicked in and caused her to flee. She flew as well as she could, expending the rest of her energy, trying to avoid death. Finally, she grew too tired and rested, trapped in a back alley, out of sight of any help, or so it seemed.
"Don't eat me! And could you please get me some food! I'm very hungry and don't want to die of starvation! In fact, I don't want to die at all!" she begged, looking up at the vulture with pleading eyes.
The vulture snorted. "No, I won't get you any food! This isn't a charity! It's a bird-eat-bird world. You either make it or you don't. It looks like you're going to be one of the ones that won't. It's every bird for him or herself. You'll learn that soon, though I suppose it'll be your last lesson learned. And besides, you're just feathers and bones. One little meal isn't going to make the least bit of difference for you, you're still going to die. So, if anyone should be getting that meal, it's me. And I think I will. At least I'll grant you a way to avoid that starvation death."
Margalo sighed. So, she was about to die. She tried to think of the positives, though there seemed far fewer this time. At least I won't die of hunger, she thought gloomily And I'll get to see my family again. Yes, that's good. Think positive Margalo. Don't cry! Don't cry! It'll be over soon!
"Don't feel too bad. I've eaten hopeless cases like you before. You aren't the first and I doubt you'll be the last."
Maybe if this world is so cruel that nobody cares about anybody, it's for the best that I'm about to leave it, Margalo thought sadly, covering her eyes, which were now dripping with the tears she could no longer hold back, with her wings so she wouldn't have to watch what she knew would be coming next.

CHAPTER THREE: THE FALCON AND THE VULTURE
Before the bird could kill Margalo, the two heard a loud "KACK-KACK-KACK-KACK!" The vulture turned around and spotted a large peregrine falcon, who seemed to be about the size of a small turkey. The bird landed beside him.
"Nice day, isn't it?" the falcon said casually.
"This is my prey! Go somewhere else, you stupid opportunistic bird!" the vulture snapped.
"Opportunistic bird? Well, look who's talking! You've cornered a kid. I bet you're real proud of yourself there, cornering a helpless little bird. It must make you feel so special as a hunter that the best you can do is get a starving little child. And, it doesn't look like you've missed any meals lately. Surely you could do without eating her."
"Quit your mocking and go get your own food!"
"I've already found it."
"Well, go find it somewhere else; this food is mine!" He slashed at the falcon with a claw. The bird winced, but didn't seem to have taken much hurt.
"Oh wow, you made the first swing, fella. Was that your best shot? Let me show you one of mine!" POW! The falcon pummeled the vulture, knocking him off the ledge that they'd been perched on. He crashed into the ground. After a few seconds, he got up slowly and painfully. The falcon casually flew down and landed beside him. "Now time for round two."
"Ok, you win the bird. No need for a round two," the vulture sighed.
The falcon snorted. "You're still under the mistaken impression that when I was saying I'd found my food, I was referring to the young canary." The vulture, who before had been annoyed that he was being cheated out of a meal, now opened his eyes wide in fright, fearing for his own life now.
The canary, curious what was going on, uncovered her eyes and looked down to see the falcon and the vulture fighting. No doubt, she assumed, they were fighting over who got to eat her. She didn't care much for this fight. It didn't matter to her which one of the two birds would be the winner, for, either way, she still was going to be the loser.
The vulture fought hard, but soon the falcon proved the stronger. He placed a talon over the vulture's throat, slowly cutting off his breathing. "Get off of me! Give me a chance!" the vulture pleaded.
"Not so tough, now, are you?"
"Ok, you've won! Now let me go, please!"
"Let you go? I thought this wasn't a charity. You know, a bird-eat-bird world, like you told that little bird. That there would be those who make it and those who didn't. I wouldn't want to disappoint you on the way things are, now would I?" the falcon said pitilessly, staying put until the vulture died from lack of air.
Wow, that falcon just killed that vulture just to get me! He's a brute! I am still going to die! This changes nothing! Margalo thought miserably.

CHAPTER FOUR: HUNGRY FALCON
Margalo watched in horror as the peregrine falcon began to slice up the now dead vulture with his talons, and then snap up pieces of flesh into his beak and down them. Not content to merely slice off flesh and eat it, the falcon then proceeded to tear off large chunks of flesh from the carcass of the vulture and down them. She could hear the nasty rips and tears and gulping as the falcon feasted.
She had no expectation that she was going to come out of this alive. That bird was nearly big enough to swallow her whole. She would be little more than one mouthful to that large predator. He'd no doubt view her as nothing more than a biscuit or a cookie, a treat to wash down the vulture with.
The falcon continued to feast, tearing off chunks of meat, shredding flesh and bone, and downing it all. The canary watched him as he just continued to eat and eat. The whole process sounded so violent, yet, she figured, that was how those large birds ate. Her parents had told her what cruel animals peregrine falcons could be.
Margalo tried not to imagine what the falcon might do to her once he was done with the vulture. Hopefully, he would just rip her head off and put her out of her misery. She hated to think of being ripped apart like that while still alive. It would be such a terrible way to go! Not as bad as dying of hunger, but still very unpleasant.
After the falcon finished his meal, he sat there, seeming to rest. Perhaps he was tired from feeding and fighting. It was just added cruelty to poor Margalo, who still expected her own death to come soon. Perhaps he was going to digest some of his meal before coming to kill her. This is such a pitiless world! Nobody cares about a little bird like me, and a falcon kills a vulture while fighting over food: me. Clearly I wasn't meant to survive in it. Margalo thought.
RREETCCH! RCCCCCH! RHHHH! She looked at the falcon, who was now coughing up a pellet. He spat this out, which contained the bones and feathers of the vulture he'd eaten. He spat this out next to what was left, which was mostly broken bones, feathers, and some debris from feeding, but little else, of the vulture. This large bird had turned that vulture into nothing but a bloody broken mess and a pellet. She shuddered to think what she was going to look like when her turn came next.
And then, she saw him stare her direction, his orange predatory eyes staring right into her green ones. His eyes didn't seem evil, but somehow kind. She shook her head. Predators weren't kind! What was she thinking? Predators only did one thing: they preyed on the weak, those like her.
The bird's beak was coated in blood, as were his talons. He apparently didn't mind this, as he didn't even bother to lick himself clean after his kill. Perhaps he thought it suited him.
Margalo's heart raced as she saw the falcon fly up to the ledge where she was and began to move toward her.
"Give me a quick death! Give me a quick death! Give me a quick death!" she pleaded, closing her eyes again. She didn't want to watch what she felt was sure to be her own very violent death.

CHAPTER FIVE: RESCUED
Margalo felt herself be seized in the firm, but, oddly gentle, grip of the falcon's talons. She could feel the sticky blood of the vulture touch her as he grabbed her. He took to the air, carrying her. Of course, she wasn't expecting anything but death. Perhaps he was going to eat her in the air and was just doing this to reduce any way she could fight back. Perhaps he had plans to drop her, like she'd heard of birds doing with clam shells. Perhaps, worst of all, she was being kept merely to be a snack later on, once the bird had digested some of the vulture.
Her fears getting the better of her, she bit into the falcon's talons. He released her, crying out in pain. Margalo felt that it was better to die this way than possibly be torn to bits by the falcon later. The falcon would, no doubt, just let her fall to her death, and then eat her corpse.
Or that's what she thought. She was surprised when the bird made a quick dive, grabbing ahold of her before she hit the ground. "Could you not do that again?" he said, finally speaking to her.
Margalo was taken aback by him talking to her. She had felt that she would only be viewed as food in his eyes. "Why not? I'm going to die anyway. You're going to kill me just like you killed that vulture. It's a bird-eat-bird world and I know my place in it."
"What's your name?"
"Excuse me?" Margalo asked, not sure if she'd heard right. Why would a vicious predator care to know her name?
"Your name. I would like to know it."
"Margalo. What's it to you?"
"Margalo, You look like you're starving."
"I am. But I can see that you're not. You had a nice big vulture to feast on and now you have me as a treat."
The falcon said nothing to her for a while, but continued to fly with her in his grasp. Finally, she felt herself moving downward as the falcon began to circle over something. She felt that maybe he'd reached his nest. Maybe he had a mate and children there and she was about to be fed to them. Soon, the two landed, and the falcon released her. Margalo was so curious as to what was going on that she dared to open her eyes. She saw that the two were at outdoor tables at a restaurant. There were some leftover biscuits on a table that had just been vacated. So, Margalo thought, perhaps he's found some bread to make a sandwich out of me with.
"Margalo, eat, please," the falcon said, noticing her just laying there.
"You want me to eat?" Margalo asked, wondering if she'd heard right. Falcons ate little birds like her. They surely wouldn't be feeding them.
"Yes, you look very thin. I can see your ribcage you're so thin. I do not believe you will last the night without food."
Margalo knew he was right. She needed to eat now or else she would die of starvation. "Why are you doing this? I'm just a little bird. Your natural prey. Why are you giving me food?"
"Because you're starving. Is that not a good enough reason?"
Margalo didn't know what to say. Maybe the falcon did have some trick planned. Still, she needed to eat, trick or not. She hungrily devoured all the biscuits. The falcon took her to another empty table, opening crackers with his talons and feeding them to her. Now, she was no longer in danger of starving. Still, she didn't know what would happen to her now. As the vulture had said, one meal wouldn't make much difference for her in the long run. She was clearly bad at getting food for herself on her own at her young age. If the falcon left her now, assuming he still didn't have plans to eat her, she'd die of hunger in a few days anyway. Finally, she spoke to the falcon again. "I'm afraid that I'm bad at getting food for myself. I am grateful that you've fed me, but I think it best that you eat me now. I'll just be in the same spot I was when you found me in a few days."
"Eat you?"
"Yes, you're a bird eater. It shouldn't be too hard for you to do it, to make sure I don't have to die of hunger. At least this way, I can die with my stomach full."
"I don't kill little birds, not unless I am the one starving and they are the only food I can catch."
"I already told you, I can't make it on my own. It would be best if you-"
"That is why I am going to take you with me. I will ensure that you are always fed."
"Why? You're a falcon. I thought that falcons didn't have hearts."
"Some don't, sadly. But I do."
Margalo felt hope rising within her for the first time since her family had been killed. It seemed that she'd reached the light at the end of a long dark tunnel. She wouldn't be dying after all. She had a chance to live! "Thank you! You are so kind! What is your name?"
"My name is Falcon. I will be taking you with me."
"Thank you, Falcon."

CHAPTER SIX: ADOPTED
Falcon took her to his home in the Pishkin Building. By now, it was starting to get dark. Margalo was glad to be off the streets, where she'd had to sleep with one eye open, so to speak, to ensure that she wouldn't be grabbed by a predator while she slept. It was starting to rain too. She shuddered as she imagined the dreadful state she'd be in if Falcon had just left her after eating the vulture. She'd be starving to death and spending her last night on earth freezing in the cold rain. "Why did you spare my life and help me?" she asked him.
"Is it that odd that one bird would help another?"
"It is considering that you're a peregrine falcon, and I'm a canary, your natural prey. You do eat birds, don't you?"
"That I do."
Margalo shuddered. "How come?"
"Well, because my taste buds naturally crave the meat of birds."
"Does it bother you that you kill other creatures?"
"It did when I did some of my first hunts."
"It doesn't any more?"
"It's not that I don't respect their lives and see them as nothing. It's just that I see theirs as being on an equal level to mine. But only one of us can continue on."
"What do you mean?"
Falcon thought for a moment, pondering how best to explain predation in a way that wouldn't come off as self-serving. Finally, he said "Suppose that I hadn't come to your aid back there in that alley when that vulture had you cornered?"
"I'd have been vulture food."
"Well, what if you had sharp talons like mine and could fight back?"
"Then, I'd have to fight back, I suppose."
"What if that vulture wouldn't back down and kept trying to eat you?"
"I don't know. I've never really thought about something like that."
"You might have to kill him, wouldn't you?"
"I suppose, if it meant the difference between him living and me dying and him dying and me living, that yes, I'd have no choice but to kill him if I wanted to live," Margalo sighed.
"Now you can understand how I operate. If I don't eat, I get hungry, and will eventually end up as feathers and bones like you were. But if I do eat, then the only way for me to eat, other than occasionally snagging something dead from another bird, is if I take a life."
"I guess I understand now. If you don't kill, you don't eat. I see how wrong I was to think you falcons killed for fun."
"For fun? Any bird who kills for fun is a very nasty bird that I wouldn't want to be around! I take what I need, nothing more. That said, you should know that the stories you've heard about us falcons aren't true. Maybe the prey birds take it that way. But, we can't help what we are any more than you can help being what you are. I don't feel that I should have to spend all of my life feeling ashamed because I eat meat."
"No, you can't help what you are and no, you shouldn't feel ashamed for how you were born. I don't blame you for eating meat. It's just that we, well, never took the time to get to know falcons like you. We thought you existed just to kill us."
"No, we have likes and dislikes just like you. And families too."
"I had a family. They were killed in a storm nine days ago. A tree branch fell on them."
"I'm so sorry to hear that. I know what it's like to lose a family."
"You do?"
"Yes. After I left home on my own. I found a falcon I liked and we became a couple. We were going to have a nest soon, but," he paused, shedding a few tears, "she was killed by a hail storm about two months ago. I lost her and our unborn kids. And now I'm all alone."
"That's terrible! It shouldn't have happened to a nice bird like you! But don't you have any friends?"
"I have some birds I talk to every now and then. But I mostly keep to myself. Losing my wife really has kept me down. But now, I have another chance."
"Another chance at what?"
"To have a kid."
"You found another wife?"
"Not yet. But I have found a daughter."
"Where?"
"You. If you'll let me. I didn't just kill that vulture today for food."'
"You didn't?"
"No. I can't stand to see little children picked on. As I said earlier, you should leave the kids alone, unless you're starving and have no choice. He showed no concern for you, despite your pitiful state. He just wanted to eat you, when you clearly needed love and care. And so, after I beat him in that fight, I showed him just as much mercy as he was going to show to you."
Margalo saw that, though Falcon was kind-hearted, it would be most unwise to get on his bad side. He might make a great friend, but he made a scary enemy.
"I'd be glad to be your daughter."
"Good. And I'll try and be a father to you. I know that, being a falcon, I could never replace your canary parents, but I'll do the best I can."
"Thank you."
Lightning flashed in the sky outside the Pishkin Building and Margalo shook in fear. She hated storms! "You don't like storms, do you?" Falcon said.
Margalo shook her head. "They've always scared me. Mom and dad comforted me during them, but I'm even more afraid of them now that-"
"You lost your family during one." Margalo nodded. "Well, I have big enough wings to shelter you and keep you warm. Just let me tuck one over you and we can sleep in peace."
"Thank you, Falcon," Margalo said. He placed a wing gently over her and she cuddled up close to him and went to sleep.
"Goodnight, Margalo, my daughter," Falcon said, before falling asleep as well.

CHAPTER SEVEN: MARGALO AND HER NEW FATHER
It did take some time for Margalo to get used to having a falcon for a parent. For instance, when he tried to preen her, as any falcon parent would a child, she instinctively thought he was trying to bite her and backed away. It took a while before she could trust him to preen her feathers.

Also, his habit of hunting birds, especially, pigeons, unnerved her. True, he often killed them before they even knew they were under attack, but it still made her sad to see him ripping up a bird, whenever he seized one near their home. "Can't you let them live?" she begged him after seeing him kill yet another pigeon.

"Margalo, we'd had this discussion before," Falcon sighed. "I can't control being a carnivore. If you don't like it, you can leave the room until I'm done eating."

"Father, please, can't you at least not eat birds?"

"Well, I suppose. But I am naturally craving of them. Just like you crave fruit, I crave the meat of birds."

"Could you do it for me? Please, please, please!" his daughter begged him.

"Well, if it makes you happy, I won't hunt birds anymore unless I've missed a few meals and they're all I can get."

"Fair enough."

"But, I still will be eating meat. I can't have you begging for the life of every rat, mouse, squirrel, rabbit, and mole that I set my sights on. You wouldn't want me to starve to death, would you?"

"No, I love you father. I don't want you to starve."

"If it bothers you, I can eat in another room."

Margalo agreed with this arrangement, though she wondered if it made her father feel bad, as silly as it sounded. So, one day, when she saw him carrying a dead squirrel, she stayed in the room as he ate. "Doesn't this bother you?" he asked, pausing his eating, a bit of squirrel liver dangling from his beak.

"It's a bit gross. But my father shouldn't have to feel that he has to avoid me when eating."

"Margalo, if your stomach can't handle it, I'm not going to-"

"I can handle it. I just need to learn to get used to it."

"Be sure that you're doing this for the right reasons, and not because you think I'm offended if you can't take it. I can greatly understand why a canary would be revolted."

"Well, it's not like they're still alive. They don't feel that anyway."

"That they don't. But I don't want you vomiting up your food while you watch me eat mine."

"I won't."

And Margalo kept her word. Though, at first it made her stomach uneasy, over time, she grew used to it, until she just stayed in the same room with him and the two ate together, though, of course, Margalo didn't eat meat, save insects.

One day, Falcon found her sifting through his pellets. "Margalo, those come from my gizzard. What are you doing with them?" he asked her.

"I've been taking the bones out of them. I go bury them so that they can have a decent burial."

"That's very sweet of you. Still, I hope you are using your talons and not your beak to go through those. They came from my gut after all."

"I use my talons. Don't worry, father."

As Margalo went outside, to the ground level, to bury the bones of a dead squirrel that had been her father's lunch, a hungry eagle spotted her. The eagle dove at the canary, who wasn't paying attention, being absorbed in her task of burying the squirrel. Thankfully, Falcon had been watching. He made a very fast dive, pulling Margalo to safety just in time. "Margalo, be careful! You need to watch your surroundings!" he scolded her.

The eagle scowled, thinking that Margalo was going to be his prey, and flew off. This wouldn't be their last encounter with predators. A month after he'd taken in Margalo, Falcon found a hungry owl at night about to get her. She was busy gathering berries from a tree, out past sunset, despite him having told her to get inside.

The owl almost killed her, but Falcon got in the way. He killed the owl with his talons and began to eat it. "Don't tell me not to eat birds that try and eat you!" Falcon said, before she could complain.

Margalo, of course, didn't feel like complaining. That owl would have killed her had he not acted. He finished off the rest of the owl then turned to glare at her for her disobedience. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm sorry, father," she apologized.

"I'm glad that you lived to say that you're sorry. You almost didn't. I told you I didn't like you being alone after dark. Perhaps next time you'll listen."

"Yes, father, I'll listen," she said.

Years would go by. Margalo would grow till she was about 11 years old. Falcon would continue to protect her, sometimes taking would-be predators of Margalo and killing them in view of other, potential, would-be predators, to send a very clear message: Mess with my daughter and you die!

Still, despite his fierceness toward would-be predators and prowess as a hunter, Margalo found him as loving as her own father. Maybe he wasn't a canary, but he made a good parent. He remained single all this time, and Margalo missed having a mother.

One day, she asked him, "Father, can I have a mother?"

"Mother? You know I'd have to find a mate for that to happen."

"Can't you?"

"A lot of falcons think I'm odd for not eating birds."

"I'm sorry. I should have thought of-"

"Don't apologize, my daughter. If they can't respect the wishes of my little Margalo, then they aren't the right girl for me."

"I hope you find one soon. You shouldn't be alone."

"I'm not alone. I have you."

"But I need a mother, and you should have a wife."

"Well, I'll see what I can do."

CHAPTER EIGHT: UNHAPPY MOUSE
Stuart Little was a mouse. He too was adjusting to having parents not his species. He had lost his parents when he was very young and had lived in an orphanage. Two years earlier, he'd been adopted by a human family, the Littles. He hadn't exactly hit it off well with the family cat, Snowbell, who had tried to have him killed. However, in the end, Snowbell had found that he was too fond of Snowbell to actually allow him to die, and had fought his own cat friends to save him. So, like Margalo, he had a hypercarnivore as a friend.
Unfortunately, being a mouse in a human world meant that his new mother put a lot of restrictions on him.
"It's not fair! Why does George get to do everything and I don't? I barely got to play in that soccer game and he played a lot of it!"
"It's because of your size. You were knocked into the goal at the end." Mr. Little said.
"Well, at least I got to help in scoring a point. Try to think of the silver linings in all of this."
"Silver linings?"
"The good in bad situations."
"Other than the fact that I don't get hurt because I don't get to do anything, I don't see any."
"You'll find some eventually."
"I don't really have any real friends, besides Snowbell, and he's a cat."
"Hey!" Snowbell, who was nearby, snapped. "Well, maybe you'll find some."
"What could we do anyway? They'd all be too big for me. We wouldn't be able to do a lot of the same things together. It wouldn't be like George and Will."
Mr. Little sighed. Stuart's lack of peers was certainly a problem troubling him and Elanor. "Maybe you'll find one your size."
"That wouldn't be a silver lining. That would be like winning the Power Ball."
Mr. Little laughed. "You never know." He went to see his wife. "We need to talk about Stuart."
"Fredrick, what about him? Is he hurt?" Elanor asked in concern.
"No, he's fine. But he's upset that you baby him so much."
"I just want him to be safe."
"I'm worried he'd going to resent George if things keep up this way. George can do all sorts of things and has peers his own size. Stuart has none of that."
"Even if I let Stuart participate in more, er, dangerous activities, how am I going to find him a peer his size?"
< "I don't know. But he's really down right now."
"Well, I suppose I could ease up on him a bit."
"Yes, I really think he needs it."
Stuart, meanwhile, had made his way to the basement. That was where he and George, and sometimes just him by himself, worked on various things, such as his model, but driving, cars. He and George had ordered a model airplane to build for him. George was busy right now, playing a game with Will, one that he was too small to join in. So he'd work on it alone. Sure, Mrs. Little wouldn't like him messing around with a plane. She felt that he had enough trouble staying safe when he was on the ground. Still, he thought, maybe what Elanor Little didn't know wouldn't hurt him. After all, he needed a break.

CHAPTER NINE: STUART TAKES FLIGHT
"Are you sure about this Stuart?" Snowbell asked him as he began to work on the plane.
"Yes, I have the instructions all right here. And I can read. So everything should be good."
"I meant on you flying it. Maybe you should leave flying to the birds."
"You sound like mom."
"I happen to agree with her here."
"Well, if I get killed somehow, then you can just eat me. I don't see why you're complaining."
"You know, two years ago, I'd have arranged for your plane to be broken so that that could happen. But now, I've found that I actually care about you. Is that normal for a cat?"
"I dunno. I've never really tried to know cats before I met you."
"Probably wise."
"Hey Snowbell, where are you?" came a voice from upstairs.
"Great, Monty's here!" Snowbell groaned. "I don't want him to make too much noise or the Littles will find him. They don't take kindly to strangers in this house."
Stuart thought that maybe it was because Monty was a street cat who only seemed to come there to mooch off of Snowbell for food. Still, he thought it wise to keep his mouth shut on the matter, and merely said "Well, you'd better go then. I can handle myself."
"If you so say," Snowbell sighed, before beginning to jump up the steps. "Wait, Monty, not so loud! I'll get you some food, though I'm afraid it's the kind that'll give you gas."
Stuart sighed. Monty and gas, sadly, seemed to go together like mice and cheese. At least he wouldn't have to be in the same room as him to smell the odor, unlike poor Snowbell. Now that he was alone, he set to working on the plane.

He spent hours working on the plane until finally it was ready. He turned flicked the switches and the engine whirred to life. "It works! It works!" he cried. He climbed into the cockpit and steered the plane into the air. "This is amazing! I'm like a bird!" he cried. He began to sing:

"I used to think that I could not go on
And life was nothing but an awful song
But now I know the meaning of true love
I'm leaning on the everlasting arms
If I can see it, then I can do it
If I just believe it, there's nothing to it
I believe I can fly
I believe I can touch the sky
I think about it every night and day
Spread my wings and fly away
I believe I can soar
I see me running through that open door
I believe I can fly
I believe I can fly
I believe I can fly---"

He stopped singing as the door opened, and George began to head downstairs. Stuart had been in control of the plane, at least enough to keep from crashing. He had been too busy singing like a fool to realize that he wasn't as good a pilot as he thought he was. Thus, with his focus on his brother, he accidentally steered the plane out the basement door and into the upstairs. "Stuart, what are you doing?" George cried in alarm.
"Flying the plane."
"Mom won't want you flying upstairs!"
"I know. I didn't mean to go up here. I'll try and land." However, he couldn't land, despite several minutes of trying. "George, get me down!"
Over the next several minutes, George chased Stuart all over the house. "How much gas does this thing have?" George panted.
"Not sure. I filled it to the top."
"Well, as long as Mom doesn't see--"

At that moment, the door opened and Elanor stood on the threshold of the door, gazing at Stuart zooming around in the plane. A few seconds later, the mouse zoomed right past her before she could react. "Stuart!" she shrieked.
"Ut oh," Stuart moaned as he zoomed over Fifth Avenue and into Central Park.

CHAPTER TEN: SHEILA
While Stuart had spent the day tinkering with his new plane, Margalo had gone with her father to met a prospective new mother. Falcon had met Sheila, a single falcon, a few days earlier. She, unlike most others, didn't think him odd in his desire not to eat birds. And she seemed eager to meet Margalo. And so that was what the two were heading to Central Park to do. "I hope she likes me," Margalo said nervously. The only falcon she'd met was Falcon. While she was certain Falcon wouldn't allow Sheila to eat her, she was still afraid of a potential predator.
"Don't worry, she said she likes you."
"As your daughter, or as a entrée?"
"I won't let anyone eat you, don't worry."
"I hope she is nice. I really want a new mother."
"We need to find you the right one. She seems the most promising."
"What if she's not the right one and we never find a mother for me?"
"You know, you do enough worrying for both of us."
"Sorry."

Up ahead, the two could see a falcon circling around a tree. A squirrel below was oblivious to her presence. She was about to strike, crying "Kack-kack-kack-kack!" The squirrel panicked and began to run. Still, the falcon would have caught him, had not her attention been diverted to the approaching Falcon and Margalo. This distraction enabled the squirrel to get away. "Well, so much for lunch!" she sighed. Her look of annoyance quickly changed to a smile as she saw Falcon. "Oh hello Falcon. And is this Margalo? She looks so cute!"

"Cute as in you want to hug me or cute as in you want to eat me?"
"Oh, don't mind her. She's only been around me before. No other predatory birds," Falcon said.
"Not to worry little canary, I'm not a believer in eating children, if I can avoid it anyway. One time I had to when I was younger. My parents both died when I was a teenager and I once had to kill a little rabbit as he was the only thing I could find in two days. Thankfully, I was never was put in a similar situation after that."
"See, Margalo, she doesn't like to eat children either. You're safe with her."
"Are you going to be my new mother?" Margalo asked.
"Well, dear," Sheila said, trying her best to reply delicately as possible so as not to offend the young bird, "I don't have the answer to that question just yet. I have just met Falcon a few days ago. I think it's a bit soon to be deciding for sure on---"
"Please, please, please! I miss having a mother! I haven't had one in years and years!"
"I know, I know," Sheila said gently. "I lost my mother too. Still, I cannot be your mother unless I am Falcon's wife, and I'm not sure if he's the one for me yet. These things take time."
"How much time?"
"It's hard to say."
"If you two love each other, why don't you get married? Then I can have a mother."
"Dear, we've just met not that long ago. You can't rush love. Or you shouldn't, anyway. It's something that has to happen on its own."

Falcon went to a food cart and ordered a candy apple for Margalo. He collected the money he found on the street and, every now and then, had been buying Margalo special treats. Now that he had Sheila in his life, however, he now had less money left to spend. Thus, as he tried to order two hotdogs, one for him and one for his girlfriend, he found that he only had enough money for one. "You have the hotdog," Falcon said, handing the rets of the money to Sheila.
"That's not right. You shouldn't have to go without. It's your money after all."
"Well, I did lose you your lunch by distracting you from that squirrel. You should have it. Besides, if we want to try and make this work out, so that I don't have to be alone anymore and so that Margalo can have a mother, I can certainly do without a meal if it came down to it."
As Sheila was about to order it, the vendor said "You know, there's this really annoying bird up in that tree that's been bothering me all morning. I hear that you falcons eat birds. If you take care of it and make it shut up, I'll give both of you a hotdog, free."
"On it!" Falcon said.
"Don't kill the bird, please!" Margalo pleaded.
"I'm not. But I'm going to drive it off." He flew toward the bird, his talons outstretched, crying "Kack-kack-kack-kack! Kack-kack-kack-kack! Kack-kack-kack-kack!" As expected, the bird fled and didn't look back. Falcon, pleased with himself, flew back down to the vendor. "Bird taken care of."
"Here's your two hotdogs. So glad to be rid of that infuriating racket!"
"Dad, I have to peeoop," Margalo said. Birds had a cloaca, a single opening for semi-solid and solid waste, hence they used the term "peeoop" when they had to go.
"Ok, just go over there, behind all those bushes Nobody is back there."
"Ok."
"But be back as soon as you can. I don't want you wandering off."
"Yes, father."
As Margalo left, Falcon handed Shiela a hotdog, extending it toward her with a talon. "Hotdog, my dear?"