Narrator (0:00)

Foreign welcome to Sleep Tight Stories. Did you know that with a little imagination even the most unlikely things can happen? Like a cat who won't eat anything except pizza. We wouldn't recommend trying it in real life, but it does make for a fun story. You're about to hear a special preview of Margarita Is Lost. The story about a quiet girl named Libby who's just moved to a new town and the surprise companion who follows her home one afternoon with very strong opinions about dinner. This version is a little different from the one you may have heard before, and if you'd like to hear more of Margarita's silly, heartwarming adventures, all ad free, you can subscribe to SleepType Premium. Now onto our Libby is feeling better in her new house and new school now that Margarita has joined their family. Libby wishes she could make more friends at school, but is happy to head home and spend time with Margarita. When Libby gets home, she cannot find Margarita anywhere and so Libby and her mom spend some time looking for her. Where could she be? Margarita is lost. Libby walked into the kitchen blurry eyed, listening to music through her headphones. She grabbed a glass of milk and sat at the table for breakfast. Good morning Libby. Her mother said. Receiving no reply, she called again, Libby. What? Oh sorry mom, I didn't hear you with my headphones on. Libby finally replied. Do you have to listen with your headphones on all the time? Her mother asked. You don't like my music, remember? And besides, I can feel the music better with my headphones on. What's for breakfast? I'm starving. I'm making scrambled eggs this morning. Her mother replied again. Can we have pizza for breakfast Mom? Pizza is the best. Her mother laughed. No Libby, pizza is for Friday nights, not breakfast. But Margarita eats pizza. Margarita is an unusual cat. Her mother said, setting a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Libby. Speaking of which, I need to feed that crazy cat Margarita. Here kitty kitty. It's breakfast time. With a thump, Margarita jumped off the couch and padded into the kitchen where Libby's mother was waiting with her food. First she offered Margarita some milk but she wouldn't drink it. Then she brought out a bowl of tuna, but Margarita wouldn't eat that either. Finally she tried pizza flavored cat food, but Margarita just stared at it. Oh you are one unusual cat. Libby's mother said. She walked to the fridge, pulled out a cold slice of pizza, heated it in the microwave and gave it to Margarita who happily gobbled it up. After finishing her pizza and drinking some water, Margarita curled up on the couch where she would lay for the rest of the day. After breakfast, Libby gathered her books, said goodbye to her mother, and walked to school. The past few weeks had been more bearable with Margarita as part of the family. Libby still hadn't made any real friends at school, but she always had Margarita to talk to during math class, Libby's least favorite subject. She wondered if there was an introverted cat lovers club at school. Maybe that would be a good way to make friends. Except everyone would likely just sit in silence because we would all be too shy to talk to each other, she thought with a laugh. After school, Libby hurried home, excited to spend time with Margarita. She wanted to tell her about her day and maybe dress her up in scarves and bows. Margarita was a gentle, patient cat, and as long as she had pizza, she was happy to play along. Margarita, I'm home. Libby called as she walked in the door. Here, kitty, kitty. No response. Silly cat. Why didn't you come to greet me as usual? Libby said as she walked into the living room. You're not using my headphones, are you? She joked. Let's laughing as she knelt down to peek under the couch, thinking Margarita might be hiding there. But Margarita wasn't there. Libby checked her bedroom. No Margarita. She searched her mother's room, the kitchen, the bathroom, and the study. Still no sign of Margarita. Margarita. Here kitty kitty. She called, but Margarita didn't come. Libby felt worried and sad. A short while later, her mother came home to find Libby looking miserable in her room. What's wrong, Libby? You looked down in the dumps? Did something happen at school? With teary eyes, Libby said, I can't find Margarita anywhere. I came home and looked for her, but she's gone. Why would she leave? Mom, are you sure you looked everywhere? Remember when you were looking for your house keys and we searched the whole house only to find them in your pocket? Her mother asked. Margarita isn't in my pocket, mom, libby replied a little grumpily. Okay, okay. Let's see if I can help find her. Maybe she's as good at hiding as she is at eating pizza. Margarita. Here, kitty kitty. Her mother called, but Margarita didn't come. Libby's mom checked the living room, under the couch, behind the shelves, in the shower, and in every nook and cranny she could think of. But no Margarita. She wasn't in any of the usual hiding spots. I just don't know, Libby, her mother said, walking back into her room. Maybe she got out of the house somehow. Should we go look around the neighborhood? Maybe she's Wandering around outside? Libby asked, feeling a sense of urgency. That's a good idea. For the next couple of hours, Libby and her mother searched the neighborhood, calling out Margarita's name. They knocked on neighbors doors, asking if anyone had seen a mischievous orange cat who looked like she might be on the hunt for pizza. Mrs. Thompson from next door even offered them a plate of leftovers just in case. She prefers homemade, she said. With a wink, Libby checked under every bush, peeking through branches and calling here kitty kitty. While holding out a slice of pizza like a peace offering. At one point, they thought they spotted her tail flicking out from under a car, only to find it was a stray sock. Do you think Margarita would hide in a tree, Mom? Libby asked, her eyes scanning the branches above. Maybe, but knowing her, she's probably not climbing trees. Unless there's pizza up there, her mother replied with a chuckle. They even walked by the park, hoping Margarita might have found some kids with snacks to beg from. But no such luck. Libby waved the pizza slice around dramatically. Margarita, I have your favorite. Come get it. But despite all their efforts and the smell of pizza wafting through the air, Margarita was nowhere to be found. Walking back home, Libby was heartbroken. I feel like I've lost my best friend, Mom. We'll find her, her mother reassured her. We can put up signs around the neighborhood. Someone's bound to spot her. I hope so. I miss her already. Before we put up signs, let's eat some dinner. I don't feel like eating. I know, Libby, but we still need to eat. While I am preparing dinner, could you take this cardboard down to the basement and put it in the recycling container? Okay. Libby walked heavily down the stairs to the basement. She opened the recycling bin, tossed in the cupboard and was about to head back up when she heard something. A faint scratching sound. What is that? She wondered, her ears perking up. She listened more closely. It was coming from inside the recycling bin. Please don't let it be a mouse, she thought. Libby cautiously approached the bin, which had started to shake slightly. Whatever was inside was bigger than a mouse. She took a deep breath and slowly lifted the lid. Out jumped Margarita, looking flustered but unharmed. Mom, come quickly. Libby shouted. Her mother rushed down the stairs. What's going on? Margarita was inside the recycling bin. Libby exclaimed. When I put more cardboard inside. She tried to get out. When I opened the top of the container, she did just that. She jumped straight onto the floor. Her mother laughed with relief. What an unusual cat. But why would she be in the recycling bin? What's so interesting about cardboard and stuff? Libby asked, puzzled. Let's see, her mother said, peering into the bin. Ah, here's the culprit. It's full of pizza boxes. Hungry? She must have smelled the leftover pizza crumbs and somehow jumped. Margarita rubbed against Libby's leg, clearly asking for her favorite meal. It was time for pizza. What a silly cat, libby said, smiling. Good night. Sleep tight. Sa.