Anna, Banana, and the Little Lost Kitten (Anna, Banana Series #5)

Anna, Banana, and the Little Lost Kitten (Anna, Banana Series #5)

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781481486705
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books For Young Readers
Publication date: 05/02/2017
Series: Anna, Banana Series , #5
Pages: 144
Sales rank: 185,455
Product dimensions: 5.10(w) x 7.70(h) x 0.50(d)
Age Range: 6 - 10 Years

About the Author

Anica Mrose Rissi grew up on an island off the coast of Maine, where she read a lot of books and loved a lot of pets. She now tells and collects stories, makes up songs on her violin, and eats lots of cheese with her friends in Princeton, New Jersey, where she lives with her dog, Arugula. Find out more at AnicaRissi.com and follow @AnicaRissi on Twitter.

Meg Park is a character designer and illustrator for clients including Disney, Nickelodeon, and Paramount Pictures. Meg lives in Scotland with her two cats Louie and Boo. She loves drawing, painting, and telling stories through her artwork.

Read an Excerpt

Anna, Banana, and the Little Lost Kitten




  • “Which one’s worse, walking under a ladder or a black cat crossing your path?” I asked, hopping over a line in the sidewalk. Chuck and I were walking to school and playing the game where you’re not supposed to step on any cracks.

    “They’re both bad luck,” my brother said. “About the same amount. But you can cancel out bad luck with good luck by finding a penny or a four-leaf clover, or knocking on something made of wood—like your head,” he teased. He tried to tap his knuckles against my skull but I dodged out of the way.

    “Missed me! Ha-ha.” I straightened my backpack on my shoulders.

    Chuck had been reading The Big Book of Small Superstitions for a report he’d be giving at school today, so now he was kind of an expert. I wasn’t sure I believed in that stuff—I love animals, so seeing a cat of any color seemed like good luck to me—but I thought it was fun to hear about.

    “Breaking a mirror is the worst one,” Chuck said. “Then you have bad luck for seven whole years. You’d have to find a lot of pennies to make up for that.”

    “Whoa.” I wondered if I could train Banana, my dog, to sniff out lucky pennies. With her help, I bet I could find enough extra luck to share with everyone in my family and my best friends, Sadie and Isabel, too. Though Banana was more interested in chasing squirrels and eating treats than she was in luck or money.

    I followed Chuck around the corner, toward the Surely Shirley house. I call it the Surely Shirley house because it says SHIRLEY on the mailbox in big purple letters, and when I asked Dad why, he said, “Surely Shirley lives there,” which made me giggle. I didn’t know if Shirley was the person’s first name or last. Maybe it was both. But I was pretty sure an old couple lived there. I had seen them out in the yard a few times. Most likely they were Mr. and Mrs. Shirley.



    Banana and I loved walking by the Surely Shirley house. In spring, summer, and fall, colorful flowers bloomed in the garden. Fancy lights twinkled in the tree branches all winter long. The bird feeders attracted lots of sparrows and robins, and the shiny, purple gazing ball and dancing frog sculpture were like something out of a fairy tale. It was always the most cheerful-looking yard on the block.

    But it wasn’t like that today. Not at all.

    Today the garden looked brown and wilted, like everything in it was feeling sad. Sharp-seeming bristles and extra-huge thorns reached out like they wanted to bite us. It reminded me of the witch in the book I’d been reading, and how everything near her lost all its color whenever she got angry. There weren’t any witches around here, of course—I knew that spooky story was only make-believe—but I walked a bit faster anyway.

    “Do you think the Shirleys moved away?” I asked.

    Chuck shrugged. “I dunno. Why?”



    “Because the house looks kind of creepy and abandoned, doesn’t it?”

    Before he could answer, I heard a howling shriek and a crash in the bushes, like an enormous creature was racing straight toward us. I screamed and jumped as something white—was it a ghost?—streaked past me, just inches in front of my feet. My heartbeat pounded in my ears like a drum. I grabbed on to Chuck for safety.

    It took me a few seconds to realize Chuck was laughing. I dropped his arm and looked where he was pointing, in the direction the white thing had gone.

    There it was, across the street: not a ghost or a monster or a terrible, ferocious beast. It was a tiny white kitten. His ears were pink and his fur was as puffy as a dandelion ready for its seeds to be blown. His whiskers twitched as he looked straight at me, then he slipped into a hedge and disappeared from sight. He was adorable, not scary.



    My cheeks felt hot with embarrassment and relief. Chuck clutched his stomach and tried to catch his breath from laughing so hard. “You should have seen your face!” he said. He stretched his mouth and flailed his arms in what I guessed was supposed to be an impression of me.

    “You jumped too,” I said.

    “Did not!”

    “Did too.” But we were both grinning. Now that I knew we were completely safe, I had to admit it had been pretty funny.

    “C’mon, scaredy cat,” Chuck said. He leaped over a crack. “We’d better get moving before more kittens attack.”

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    Anna, Banana, and the Little Lost Kitten 5 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 1 reviews.
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    So cute! Love this series