In the cozy pantry, a fat wedge of cheese sat on the highest shelf.
Pipkin stretched on tiptoe and whispered, “Almost.”
But the shelf stayed far above Pipkin’s whiskers.
So Pipkin dragged over a cinnamon tin and climbed up for another try.
Squeeeak! The tin spun. Pipkin windmilled and tumbled into a soft shower of cracker crumbs.
Pipkin brushed off the crumbs, peeked up at the cheese, and thought of one more plan.
Pipkin stacked a spoon on a jar lid on top of the flour sack and crept up the wobbly tower.
Clink, clatter! The spoon flipped, the lid zinged away, and Pipkin slid down with a surprised “Eep!”
Across the pantry, a long wooden spoon hung from a hook. Pipkin opened Pipkin’s mouth to call out—then shut it again.
At last, Pipkin climbed onto a jam jar, cupped Pipkin’s paws, and squeaked, “Could someone help me reach the cheese, please?”
A huge hand appeared at the pantry door, lifted the wooden spoon, and lowered the cheese with a soft tap to the shelf edge.
Pipkin blinked at the shining spoon bowl and the sweet smell of jam, hardly believing Pipkin had asked out loud.
Soon Pipkin nibbled the cheese on a lower shelf.
Pipkin patted the wooden spoon and said, “Thank you,” before scampering back for one more bite.
