"Huh? What is it, Kat?" Daniel cried.

I stared in shock at the tiny sponge.

"Maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me," I muttered. "It's totally weird!" "Come on, Kat," Daniel insisted. "What is it?"

I studied the sponge some more. "Wow!" I gasped. My eyes weren't fooling me. The round sponge moved in my hand, gently and slowly, in and out, in and out in

a lazy rhythm.

As if it were breathing!

But sponges don't breathe. Do they? This one sure did!

I could even hear its little breaths: Whoa-ahhh, whoa-ahhh.

"Daniel! I don't think this is just a sponge," I stammered. "I think it's alive!" I tossed it back into the sink cabinet. I admit it. I felt a little scared.

My brother put his hands on his hips. "That's a pretty lame joke," he snickered. "But, Daniel—" I started.

"You can't get me with that one, Kat. It's an old sponge," he insisted, grinning. "A dirty old sponge that's probably been here for a hundred years."

"All right, don't believe me!" I exclaimed. "When I'm famous for discovering this thing, I won't tell them you're my brother."

Mom walked by, carrying an armload of winter coats. I knew that she would believe me.

"Mom!" I yelled. "The sponge! It's alive!"

"That's nice, dear," she murmured. "Only a few more things to bring in. Now, where did I put that box of silverware?"

My mother acted as if she didn't even hear me! "Mom," I started again, even louder this time. "The sponge! Under the sink! It's breathing!"

She ignored me and kept walking through the kitchen and right out the screen door into the backyard.

Nobody cared about my amazing find.

Except for Killer. He seemed really interested. Maybe too interested.

Killer bent his neck down low, poked his head into the cabinet, gave the sponge a long stare—and growled, deep in his throat.

Grrrr. Grrrr.

Why was he growling again?

Killer touched his wet nose to the sponge. He shoved it around, sniffing and sniffing. He gazed up at me for a moment, a puzzled expression on his dog face.

Grrrr. Grrrr.

Killer opened his mouth and grabbed the sponge in his teeth.

"Hey, that's not lunch!" I yelped, grabbing Killer by his collar and yanking him out from under the sink. "That could be a very important discovery."

I turned to my brother.

"See, Daniel? Killer knows it's alive," I insisted. "Honest, it's not a trick. Look closer—I promise that you'll see it breathing."

Daniel smirked as if he didn't believe me. But he poked his head into the cabinet. "Hey, whoa! You might be right," he admitted. He pulled himself up to face me.

"I think it is alive! And I also think... it's mine!"

With that, he dove under the sink to grab the sponge.

"No way!" I protested. I grabbed the back of his T-shirt and hauled him out. "I saw it first. The sponge belongs to me!"

He shook me off and dove back down again. "Finders, keepers!" he cried. I made another grab for him.

But before I could touch him, Daniel uttered a bloodcurdling scream of pain!