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jumped.
    “Let’s close the door,” Jessie said. “Drafts are bad for these birds and for George. Mr. Fowler is in the storage building, so I’d better see what this customer wants.”
    When Jessie came out, she saw a tall, thin woman holding a small, brand-new pet carrier.
    “Where is Mrs. Tweedy?” the woman demanded. “I have to see her. I specifically said the carrier I needed was for Bootsie. Why, everyone in Greenfield knows Bootsie won the Largest Cat Award in the pet show last year. This carrier wouldn’t fit a mouse!”
    Jessie ran over to help the customer. “Mrs. Tweedy just left. Are you Mrs. Garfield? My brother and I dropped off that cat carrier yesterday. Is it the wrong size?”
    The woman’s voice shook with anger. “Is it the wrong size, young lady? If you saw my Bootsie, you wouldn’t have to ask that question. Bootsie couldn’t get a paw into this tiny thing, let alone the rest of her.”
    Jessie took the pet carrier from the woman. “I’m sorry. There’s my brother. Henry, can you pick out a large pet carrier for this customer? Do you have the sales slip, Mrs. Garfield?”
    The woman reached into her pocket. “See, I ordered the Model Ten-eighty, but somebody crossed it out and wrote down Model Ten-twenty instead. I had to drive all the way to the vet’s with Bootsie jumping around inside my car.” The woman put her hand on her chest to calm herself down. “I could have had an accident! Then, to make matters worse, Bootsie ran from the car and was nearly eaten by a dog coming out of the vet’s. All because of a foolish mistake.”
    By this time, Henry had pulled down the largest pet carrier in the shop. He handed it to the woman to calm her down. “Here, take this one. I can help you get your cat inside it if you want.”
    “Hmmm. I might ask you to do just that,” she told Henry. “Getting Bootsie into a cat carrier is no easy task. One other thing. I never did get my monthly order of diet cat food. Could you put a bag in the car for me? Or rather for Bootsie. I’m certainly not on a diet.”
    Henry and Jessie hoped the woman would laugh, and she did. But the children couldn’t help wondering. How did Mrs. Garfield’s orders get switched? And why?

CHAPTER 8
A Scary Chase
    Sundays were big breakfast days at the Aldens. The smell of bacon, sausage, and scrambled eggs filled the kitchen. The children sat with their grandfather and talked about their new jobs.
    “Today’s Mr. Fowler’s day off. We get to do his pet-sitting jobs,” Benny said between gulps of orange juice. “But know what?”
    “What, Benny?” Mr. Alden asked.
    “We have to feed Buster and Beau while they guard Jerry’s Gas Station,” Benny said. “And know what else? There’s a little door where we have to put the food. We don’t want the dogs to think we’re burglars and chase us by mistake.”

    Mr. Alden put down his coffee cup. “That sounds like an important job, Benny.”
    On Sundays it was Henry’s turn to clear the table. “Mrs. Tweedy told us the dogs are kept in a dog run,” he explained to his grandfather. “We won’t be getting close to them. Still, we can’t bring Watch along. Buster and Beau might get too excited.”
    Mr. Alden sat back and poured himself another cup of coffee. “I’ll get Watch out for a walk in the woods this afternoon. He misses going out with you children now that you’re so busy at the pet shop.”
    Jessie scratched Watch behind his ears. “Good boy. We’ll be back early.”
    “Greenfield is so sleepy on Sundays,” Violet said after the Aldens picked up Soo Lee on their way to town. “Hardly anyone is out.”
    “I’m not sleepy,” Soo Lee said. “I can’t wait to see the talking birds.”
    The children arrived at the Pretty Bird Pet Shop to pick up supplies. As soon as Henry unlocked the back door, the chattering, yipping, squawking, and twittering started up, just like an animal chorus.
    “Tweedy, Tweedy, Tweedy,” Grayfellow squawked from