The Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals is the UK’s largest animal charity. They rescue, look after and rehome hundreds of thousands of animals each year in England and Wales. They also offer advice on caring for all animals and campaign to change laws that will protect them. Their work relies on your support, and buying this book helps them save animals’ lives.
www.rspca.org.uk
Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
RSPCA
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
The Real-Life Rescue
Meet a Real RSPCA Worker
Some Tips for Looking After Your Cat
Facts About Cats
Sneak Peek of Lamb All Alone
Collect the Whole Series
Join the RSPCA
You’ll Also Love
Copyright
It was a wild, windy day and nine-year-old Lily Hart was playing football in the garden with her family. Dad was in goal, while Mum, Lily and her twin brothers, Max and Jacob, tried to score against him. Meg the dog was playing, too, of course, barking with excitement, her tail wagging non-stop.
The ball came to Lily, who kicked it up the garden towards the goal. Dad dived in an attempt to catch it but slid on the mud and slipped over. The ball flew straight past him and into the back of the net.
“And she SCOOOOORES!” Lily cheered, racing around the garden, her arms out wide. She high-fived Max, Jacob and Mum, and then Meg bounced over as if she wanted to join in the celebrations as well.
“Hey, Megster,” Lily said, crouching down and patting her. Meg was an energetic collie cross who liked nothing better than being outside with her family – especially if there was a ball involved. “Did you see that goal? Put it there!”
Meg woofed as if she could understand every word, and sat on her hind legs so that she could give Lily a paw. “Good girl,” Lily said, shaking it gently with a grin.
Dad picked himself up, his calves covered in mud. It had rained heavily the night before as well as that morning, and the garden was very boggy. “Well done, Lils,” he said, grabbing the ball. “Tell you what, guys, the next person to score is the champion. I need a cup of tea.”
“Sounds good to me,” Mum agreed.
“I’m definitely going to be the champion,” Jacob said at once.
“No way,” Max argued. “It’s so going to be me.”
Lily smiled to herself. Her brothers were six years old and very competitive. They were also identical, with the same sandy-brown tufty hair, blue eyes and upturned noses. Jacob had a few more freckles than Max, and Max had a mole at the side of his chin, but unless you knew them well, it was hard to tell them apart.
Dad raised an eyebrow. “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” he said. “Ready? Here we go.”
Dad kicked the ball and it flew through the air. Jacob, Max and Lily jostled one another as they rushed towards the spot where they thought it would land. But one member of the family beat them all to it. Meg leaped high off the ground to head the ball down, then chased it back across the garden as it rolled towards the goal. By sheer luck, the ball bounced right through Dad’s legs and into the net!
Everyone roared with laughter. “Meg’s the champion!” Lily cried, running to make a fuss of her. “What a clever dog.”
Meg’s tail thumped against Lily’s legs and she woofed happily. She’d been a member of the Hart family almost as long as Lily. Mum worked part-time at the nearby RSPCA centre as an Animal Care Assistant, looking after all the animals who came in needing treatment and helping find them new homes. Meg had been brought there as a tiny puppy back when Lily was just a few months old.
Meg had been separated from her mother and was still too young to feed herself, so she needed to be hand-fed with bottles of special milk before she could be weaned on to puppy food. Mum was in charge of looking after Meg, and brought her home so that she could care for her around the clock. It wasn’t long before Mum and Dad both adored Meg, and decided to keep her as their family pet.
Lily was too young to remember Meg arriving, but there were lots of photos in the family album showing them sharing Mum’s lap, or curled up asleep next to each other on a blanket. Then, as Meg grew stronger and Lily started crawling, they’d got into all sorts of mischief together, happily emptying kitchen cupboards when Mum’s back was turned or pulling baubles off the tree at Christmas time.
“Well done, Meg,” said Mum, coming over to pat her. “A worthy champion indeed.”
“Quick, get on the phone to Manchester United,” Dad joked, scooping up the ball. “They’ll sign up a super-striker like Meg in a shot.”
“They could pay her in dog biscuits,” suggested Jacob, and Meg woofed again, her ears pricking up at the word “biscuits”.
“She could wear a red shirt with her name on the back,” said Max, laughing. “And special little football boots!”
Lily giggled at the thought. “Don’t worry, Meg,” she said. “We wouldn’t let them have you anyway, even if they offered us millions of pounds. You’re our dog, aren’t you?”
Lily’s last words were drowned out by a loud rumble of thunder overhead. A cold gust of wind snaked around the garden, shaking the branches of the plum tree and flattening the grass. Lily shivered and rubbed her bare arms as she looked up at the sky. Dark clouds had appeared, blotting out the sun.
“You’re all champions,” Mum said, “but we’d better get inside, quick. Looks like it’s about to start pouring. Run!”
Once they’d raced back indoors, everyone peeled off their muddy things and put on clean clothes. Dad made a jug of orange squash for the children and produced a packet of biscuits while Meg drank splashily from her bowl of water. Within moments, the rain was pattering down again.
Lily leaned against the warm radiator, glad to be indoors out of the cold and wet. “That’s the end of our game of football,” she said, staring through the window.
“Not necessarily,” said Mum. “How about we play blow football instead?”
“What’s that?” Jacob asked, as Mum pulled a handful of straws from the kitchen drawer.
Mum grinned. “A perfect rainy-day game,” she replied mysteriously. “Boys, did I see a ping-pong ball up in your bedroom? Could you go and fetch it, please?”
Dad cleared the kitchen table and Mum put empty shoeboxes at either end, their open sides facing the middle. Jacob and Max rushed back in, Max triumphantly clutching the white ping-pong ball, and Mum set it carefully in the centre of the table.
“Right,” she said. “We’ll play kids versus grown-ups. Everyone blows through a straw, trying to send the ball into the opposite team’s goal – the shoeboxes. You need to keep your hands behind your backs because touching the ball is not allowed. OK?”
Lily laughed. Her family were a bit crazy! She knew that her best friend Martha’s parents wouldn’t dream of puffing a ping-pong ball around their kitchen table until they were pink in the cheeks. But the game turned out to be great fun, with everyone blowing through their straws like mad whenever the ball rolled their way.
Meg seemed a bit confused by all the giggling and cheering but she was very helpful whenever the ball rolled off the table, rushing to fetch it as it bounced around the kitchen floor. She’d bring it back each time, dropping it gently into Mum’s hand and wagging her tail.
The score was
Kids: 5, Grown-ups: 3 when the phone rang and interrupted the game. Dad put down his straw and went to answer the call. “Hello?… Yes,” his voice came from the living room. “Sure, I’ll just get her.”
“It’s for you,” Dad said to Mum as he came back into the kitchen. “Nicky from work.”
Mum hurried out of the room at once. “Hi, Nicky,” Lily heard her say. “Oh goodness! When? Poor little things. Yes, of course I will. No problem. I’ll be right there.”
Lily couldn’t help wondering who the “poor little things” were and what had happened. All sorts of ill and injured animals came into the RSPCA centre every day; some had been in accidents or hadn’t been well treated. Sometimes, if the animals needed urgent care, extra staff would be called in to help on their days off. Because the Hart family lived so close to the centre, Mum never minded pitching in if there was an emergency. Lily felt proud of Mum for what she did. It must be the best job in the world, making scared, hurt animals feel better, she thought.
Mum reappeared in the kitchen a few minutes later wearing her jacket and shoes. “I’ve got to pop into work,” she told them. “Something’s come up.”
“What is it?” Lily asked. “Is it serious?”
“I’d better dash. I’ll tell you when I get back,” Mum said, sounding distracted. “See you all later, OK?”
Lily watched her hurry away, wondering what might be happening at the centre that was so urgent. Meg whined as the front door closed behind Mum, and Lily bent down to give her a hug. “Don’t worry,” she told her dog. “She’ll be home soon.”
With Mum out, and the boys supposedly tidying their messy bedroom, Lily decided to get on with her homework. She had some maths puzzles to work out and a list of spellings to learn for a test. It was hard to concentrate, though, when she kept thinking about the animals Mum might be looking after at the RSPCA centre. She hoped everything was OK.
“Have you heard from Mum yet?” she asked Dad when he came into the kitchen a bit later.
Dad shook his head. “Not a sausage,” he said. “How’s the homework going? Do you need any help?”
Lily closed her exercise book. “I’ll do it later,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
Dad gave her a thoughtful look, as if he knew her mind was elsewhere. “Tell you what,” he said, “why don’t we make a nice cake for tea? Mum deserves a treat for working so hard.”
Lily smiled. “Good idea,” she said.
Once they’d washed their hands, Lily helped weigh out the butter and sugar, and tipped them into a big mixing bowl. “It won’t be long until I need to make a special cake for you,” Dad said, getting eggs out of the fridge, “what with your birthday next month. Have you thought about what kind of cake you might like this year?”
“Chocolate, please,” Lily said at once. Dad was a really good baker, and made the most amazing cakes for everyone. Last year, he’d baked her a cake in the shape of a dog’s head, complete with a pink iced tongue hanging out of its smiling mouth. “But that’s still ages away.”
“Ahh, you wait, the weeks will fly by,” Dad said, passing Lily a wooden spoon. “Right – let’s get mixing.”
Lily enjoyed helping Dad in the kitchen. He was an artist, illustrating storybooks and greetings cards for a living, and he saw cookery as another chance to be creative. Some of his cake decorations turned out almost as beautiful as his paintings and drawings!
Lily’s favourite picture by Dad was one that hung above the mantelpiece in the living room. In the painting, the Harts were riding on the back of a smiling green dragon, looking as if they were flying off to have a wonderful adventure together. Even Meg was included in the painting, sitting on the dragon’s back with Lily’s arms around her. It made Lily smile every time she looked at it.
“Hmm,” Dad said as Lily sifted the flour into the bowl. “What can we put in this cake to give it some extra zing?”
“Lemon juice?” Lily suggested.
“Good thinking,” he replied. “And how about a handful of chocolate chips and some grated orange zest, too?”
“Yum,” Lily said approvingly. “Mum’s going to love it.”
The cake smelled delicious as it baked, and Lily helped Dad with the washing up. She began to feel hungry and glanced up at the clock to see when it would be teatime. To her surprise, it was almost five o’clock already. Mum had been gone for hours now! She and the rest of the RSPCA team must be really busy. When was she going to come home?
Once the cake had cooled, Lily and Dad covered it in white glossy icing, then decorated it with candied orange and lemon slices around the edge. Then Dad’s phone buzzed.
“Aha!” he said, reading a text. “That’s your mum. She’ll be home in about fifteen minutes.” He peered in the fridge. “How does pizza for tea sound?”
Lily grinned. “Sounds perfect.”
A short while later, Meg barked and they heard the key turn in the front door. “Mum’s home!” Max cried.
“Brilliant timing,” Dad said, switching off the oven and putting a handful of cutlery on the table.
“We’re in the kitchen!” Lily called.
Mum appeared holding an animal carrier. “Hi, everyone,” she said, setting it carefully on the table. Then she sniffed. “Mmm, something smells nice in here.”
“Hi, Mum,” Lily said. “Is everything all right? What’s in there?”
Dad went over to kiss Mum and looked into the cat carrier. His eyes widened as he saw what she’d brought in. “Oh my goodness,” he said. “What have we here?”
“Three little babies who need some extra looking after,” Mum replied, then smiled at Lily and the boys. “Come over and have a peep – but be really quiet, won’t you? I don’t want them to be scared.”
Lily was bursting with curiosity as she, Jacob and Max went over to see. Mum carefully opened the carrier and Lily gasped with excitement as she saw three bundles of fluff inside, curled up on a soft blue blanket, with a hot-water bottle keeping them warm. They were the tiniest kittens she’d ever seen!
“Oh, Mum,” she whispered, resisting the urge to reach in and stroke them. She knew that they might be very poorly, and that she needed to check before touching them. “They’re so small. Are they OK?”
Mum gave her a smile. “I’m going to do my best to look after them,” she said, which didn’t really answer Lily’s question.
“What are they?” Max asked, peering in. “Are they hamsters?”
“They’re kittens!” Lily replied.
“We think they’re only a week old,” Mum added, “which is why their eyes haven’t opened yet. They’re pretty helpless right now.”
“They don’t look like proper kittens,” Jacob said, hanging back doubtfully.
Mum smiled. “They’re just babies,” she said. “And they don’t have a mummy to look after them, so I’m going to have to be their mummy for a short while, and take care of them here. Just like a real cat mummy, I’ll be taking them everywhere with me. So when I’m at home they’ll be here, and when I go to work they’ll come with me as well!”
Meg seemed curious about the new arrivals. She kept walking back and forth, and sniffing the air around the table. Then she made a funny whining sound.
“Good girl. It’s all right,” Mum told her, reaching down and stroking her silky head. “You’re still top dog in this house, don’t worry.”
Lily gazed in at the kittens. One was black all over, another was black with white paws and a white mark on its face, and the third and smallest kitten was a tabby, with grey and black markings. They were very sweet with their crumpled-looking ears and tightly shut eyes, but Jacob was right: they didn’t look like other kittens she’d seen. She’d always thought of kittens as being full of energy, tumbling over each other and playing with everything in sight. These three, by contrast, seemed hardly able to move. No wonder Mum had called them “poo
r little things” on the phone!
Just then, the black kitten opened its mouth and gave a teeny-tiny mew, and Lily’s heart melted at the sound.
“I think somebody’s hungry again,” Mum said. “Let’s give kitty a feed.”
“Can I help?” Lily asked.
“Of course,” Mum said. “Without their mummy around, we need to feed them with special kitten milk. I’ve brought some home with me.”
“What happened to their mum?” Lily asked, watching as Mum popped the lid off a large tin full of creamy-white powder. “Is she still at the centre?”
Mum shook her head. “We don’t know where she is, unfortunately,” she replied, tipping a scoop of powder into a jug and measuring out boiled water from the kettle. “All we know is that these three were found at the end of a garden in the next village – soaking wet and shivering. The mother cat was nowhere to be seen.”
“Poor babies,” Lily said, feeling sad. She hated to think of them lying there, cold and wet, without their mum to take care of them.
“The lady who brought them into the centre said it was only by chance that she found them at all,” Mum went on. “She was just nipping out to the shop when she spotted them under the hedge in her front garden. She got them to us in the nick of time.”
Jacob looked upset. “Why did their mummy leave them there?” he asked.
“Maybe she didn’t have a choice,” Mum replied, whisking the powder into the water until it looked like smooth, creamy milk. “There,” she said. “This substitute milk has all the goodness they need to help them grow properly but isn’t too rich for their little tummies. Kittens don’t drink the milk we drink.”
More squeaks were coming from the cat carrier now, and Lily peered in to see all three kittens mewing pitifully. “Nearly ready, guys,” she said softly. “Milk’s on its way.”
“Why don’t you wash your hands and stroke them very gently?” Mum suggested to Lily, filling a dropper with the milk. “That might comfort them until I can feed them all.”
The Abandoned Kitten Page 1
