Pudding and the warmest spot in the house

Pudding was a small gray kitten with white paws, as if she had stepped in a saucer of milk and never quite got it off. She lived in a tall thin house with a boy named Theo and his mother and a very old dog named Walter, who mostly slept.

Pudding liked many things. She liked string. She liked the sound of the fridge opening. But most of all, Pudding liked to be warm.

And tonight, she wanted to find the warmest spot in the whole house.

She started with the square of sunlight on the hallway floor. All afternoon it had been the best place to lie. She had stretched out in it with her tummy up and her eyes half shut. She trotted over to it now and stepped in.

But the sun had gone down behind the houses, and the square was only a square of floor. Cool. Plain. Just floor.

“Hm,” said Pudding. “Warm this afternoon. Not warm now.”

She tried the basket of clean laundry by the dryer. Theo’s mother had just taken it out, and it was full of soft things, socks and towels and a sweater with a hood. Pudding climbed in and burrowed down until only her ears showed.

Oh, it was warm. It was warm and it smelled like soap. Prrr, went Pudding. Prrr, prrr.

Then Theo’s mother came and lifted out the sweater, and the towels, and the socks, folding each one and laying it on a pile, until Pudding was sitting in an empty basket, blinking.

“Sorry, Pudding,” said Theo’s mother, and she gave her a scratch under the chin. “I need these.”

“Hm,” said Pudding. “Warm for a little while. Not warm now.”

She tried Walter. Walter was asleep on his cushion by the back door, and Walter was always warm, like a big gray loaf of bread. Pudding curled up against his side and felt him breathe, up and down, up and down.

But Walter was dreaming about something, and his legs went paddle, paddle, paddle, and his tail thumped, and Pudding got bumped right off the cushion onto the floor.

Walter did not wake up. He just sighed and went on dreaming.

“Hm,” said Pudding. “Warm, but wobbly.”

She went to find Theo. Theo was on the sofa in his pajamas, the blue ones with the stripes, and he had his knees pulled up and a book open on them. Pudding jumped up and pushed the book out of the way with her head and sat down right in the middle of his lap.

Theo laughed. “Hello, Pudding.”

Oh, this was warm. His lap was warm and his hands were warm, and he stroked her from her ears to the tip of her tail, over and over. Prrr, went Pudding. Prrr, prrr, prrr. Her eyes went half shut. She thought, this is it. This is the warmest spot in the house.

Then Theo’s mother called from the hallway, “Teeth, Theo.”

And the lap stood up.

Pudding slid gently down onto the sofa cushion. It was a little warm where Theo had been sitting. But a little warm is not the same as warm, and it was getting less warm every second.

“Hm,” said Pudding, very quietly.

She sat on the sofa for a while and washed one white paw, and then the other, and she thought about warm spots. The sun went away. The laundry got folded. Walter wobbled. Laps stood up and went to brush their teeth.

Then she heard Theo’s feet on the stairs, and his bedroom door, and the small creak of his bed.

Pudding got down from the sofa. She walked across the hall, past the square of floor that used to be sunny. She climbed the stairs one at a time, because she was small and the stairs were big. She pushed Theo’s door with her nose, and it opened just enough.

The lamp was off. The room was dim and blue. Theo was a long lump under the blanket with his face turned toward the wall.

Pudding jumped up onto the bed, quiet as a dropped sock.

She walked up the blanket, slowly, over his feet, over his knees, until she came to the warm curve between his chest and his arm. She stepped into it. She turned around once. She lay down.

Theo’s arm came around her without his eyes opening. “Hello, Pudding,” he whispered.

Oh.

It was warm. It was warm underneath her and warm beside her and warm on top where his arm was. She could feel his heart going, soft and steady, thum, thum, thum.

This spot did not go away when the sun went down. This spot would not get folded. This spot did not wobble, and it was not going anywhere to brush its teeth.

“Hm,” said Pudding, but it was a happy hm. “Warm now. Warm all night.”

Prrr, went Pudding.

Her eyes went half shut.

Then they went all the way shut.

Theo breathed in. Theo breathed out.

Pudding breathed in. Pudding breathed out.

Thum, thum, thum.

Prrr, prrr.

Warm now.

Warm all night.

Prrr.

How to read this one aloud

• Each “Hm” is Pudding thinking, not complaining. Keep it light and a little funny until the sofa, and then let it go soft.
• Purr the purrs. A low “prrr” in the back of the throat is a sound children feel as much as hear, and it is a good one to end on.
• The pause point is Pudding washing her paws on the sofa. If your child is asleep by then, stop there. Nothing is lost.
• From the moment Pudding climbs the stairs, slow right down and drop your voice. The last ten lines are meant to be almost whispered, with a breath between each one.
• If your child is still awake, ask: “Where is the warmest spot in our house?” Most children will say “here,” which is the right answer. For more on why a child settles faster when the story feels like their own home, see why personalized bedtime stories work. If your child likes animal stories with the same slow ending, try the puppy who said goodnight to the whole house.