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Informationen zum Autor CLAUDIA MILLS is the author of over 40 books for young readers. Most of her books have no pets in them. Until five years ago, Claudia never had a pet. Now she is completely devoted to her cat, Snickers. Snickers curls up next to Claudia in the early morning as Claudia lies on the couch in her home in Boulder, Colorado, drinking hot chocolate and writing. Visit Claudia at ClaudiaMillsAuthor.com. Klappentext Soon-to-be fourth-grader Mason Dixon does not want a pet, but his parents think it will be good for him. Goldfish dies soon after his arrival (from overfeeding). Mason is relieved. Hamster escapes. Mason is relieved. Cat has to go back because best friend Brody is too allergic to ever be at their house while Cat is there. Mason is relieved. But when Dog comes, it takes a little dose of jealousy for Mason to realize he does want a pet, all of his very own. Claudia Mills introduces a new, hilarious character in Mason, and each of the three books about him will feature both boys as they cope with a new experience; pitch-perfect for 8- to 10- year-old newly independent readers, the books will maintain a consistent page count and feature black-and-while art throughout.1 Mason Dixon didn’t mean for his pet goldfish to die. Really, he didn’t. But he couldn’t honestly say that he was brokenhearted about it, either. “Mom!” Mason hollered, staring down at the glass bowl where Goldfish lay floating on the still surface of the water. “Mom!” He found her in the family room sorting socks. All of Mason’s socks were brown, but his mother sorted them, anyway, according to how worn the heels were. Mason didn’t like it if one sock was thicker around the heel than the other one. “Mom?” She looked up from her sorting. “Mom. Um--I think Goldfish is dead.” “Oh, Mason!” He followed her back upstairs to his bedroom, stumbling on one step to keep up with her as she ran. Did she think that if she got there in the nick of time, Goldfish could be saved through CPR? Mason wasn’t sure how long Goldfish had been lying there. The last time he had stopped by to hang out with Goldfish for a minute or two had been that morning, and now it was midafternoon. Goldfish had seemed fine then. Or as fine as he ever had. “Oh, Mason,” she said again as together they gazed down at Goldfish’s motionless little body. “Your first pet!” Mason tried to look sad. He was sad, sort of. Poor Goldfish hadn’t had much of a life, swimming around in his bowl all day, in and out of his plastic underwater castle. In, out, in, out. Still, it was the only life Goldfish had had. “How could he just die like that?” Mason’s mother asked, twisting the brown sock she held in her hand. “Maybe he was old,” Mason suggested. He didn’t know how to tell if Goldfish was young or old. He didn’t even know how to tell if Goldfish was a boy or a girl. Mason had always thought of Goldfish as “him,” but he didn’t know for sure. “We’ve just had him a week!” his mother wailed. “I don’t see how a perfectly healthy goldfish could die in just a week.” Then her face brightened. “Maybe we can take him back to the pet store, and they’ll give you another one! They must have some kind of guarantee for customer satisfaction.” Mason must have looked upset, because she continued, in a gentler voice, “Mason, I know there will never be another Goldfish. Goldfish will always have a special place in your heart. But we can find a fish that looks as much like him as possible. We can even call the new fish Goldfish, if you want. Not that I ever thought that was such a good name.” Mason didn’t know how to tell her. “Mom. I don’t want a new goldfish.” “But, honey--your father and I talked about this. You’re an only child. An only child should have a pet to talk to, to love. It was so good for you to learn how to take care of Gol...
