Fun Fare (Reader's Digest)
[1] Ginger
It was our cat’s first winter. When a snowstorm came up suddenly, we tried frantically to find Ginger, calling him repeatedly and poking into snowdrifts round the veranda where he liked to hide.
Finally I rang the police station to enquire if a ‘found’ cat had been reported. The sergeant listened politely to my tale, and assured me that cats had been known to live through terrible storms. ‘Ginger’, I added, on a hopeful note, ‘is exceptionally intelligent. In fact, he almost talks.’
‘In that case, madam,’ replied the sergeant, ‘hang up, he’s probably trying to phone you now.’