by Holly Webb
“You’re so lucky,” Emma sighed. “I wish we had kittens. Or a grown-up cat – I wouldn’t mind.” She gave her dad a sideways look. “Dad, if you really like cats, why don’t we have one?”
Her dad looked thoughtful. “Well, it would have been tricky when me and Mum were both working full-time. But I suppose now we’ve changed our shifts around we could…” Emma’s parents both worked at the local hospital. “I don’t know what your mum would think, though, Ems. She’s never had a cat.”
“I don’t see how anybody could not like a tiny little kitten,” Emma said coaxingly.
“Perhaps because it’ll turn into a great big cat clawing the sofa? You know your mum likes everything really tidy in the house.”
“A cat could be tidy…” Emma said hopefully. “Oh, Liz has got the food, look!” Liz was standing by the car-park gate, holding a couple of bowls. Emma grabbed her dad’s arm, hauling him after her.
“We’ll be really careful,” she told Liz, as she took the food bowl. “Oh, you’ve got some water, too. I was going to ask you about that.”
Emma’s dad took the water bowl and followed her across the yard to the old barn. “I can hear them rustling about,” he whispered to Emma, as they tiptoed over to the stall.
Tiggy was looking anxious, and she half stood up as Emma and her dad came to the door of the stall. The kittens squeaked a little and shifted around in the straw nest as their mother moved. Emma ducked her head, trying to see the kittens without staring at Tiggy – she knew from a cat programme she’d seen on TV that cats didn’t like to make eye contact sometimes. “It’s OK,” she whispered. “We brought you some delicious food. Fish – can you smell it?”
She was sure that Tiggy’s whiskers flickered, and the fluffy cat was definitely eyeing the bowls.
“I’ll put the food here.” Emma crouched down and stretched out her arm, trying to get the bowl into the stall without scaring Tiggy. “And Dad’s got you some water, too.” She glanced across at her dad. “Can you see the kittens? Look, they haven’t even got their eyes open!”
The kittens wriggled and made tiny mewing noises, calling for Tiggy to feed them. They were like little furry balloons, Emma thought, all plump and squidgy. Their fur was still quite short and fine, so the pink skin showed through on their tummies and paws, and their tails were almost as thin as string.
“I wish we could stay and watch,” she murmured to Dad, as she edged away, still crouching. “But Tiggy might not want to eat while we’re here because it’ll mean leaving the kittens.”
“I know, she is looking a bit worried,” Dad agreed. “I love that little tabby. It looks like it’s going to have great silver and black stripes. But they’re all cute.”
“I like that one, too,” Emma whispered, giving the kittens one last look from the doorway. “That’s the sort of cat I’ve always imagined having.”
Snuggled in the straw, the kittens cheeped faintly, and blundered their way over towards their mother and her milk. They were so little that food and warmth were the only things they understood. They heard the soft vibrations of Emma’s voice, and her dad’s, but only Tiggy understood that Emma had brought her food and water, and had kept her distance from the precious kittens.
“The kitten of one of those cats at the stables?” Emma’s mum asked doubtfully. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Emma. I know they look beautiful, but none of them are friendly. They’re all half-wild. I don’t think we want a cat like that.” She put the salad on the kitchen table and sat down. “It isn’t that I don’t want us to have a pet, but we’ve never had a cat before. Shouldn’t it be somebody who really knows what they’re doing looking after kittens like those?”
“But there isn’t anybody who knows!” Emma tried to argue. “Liz would be really pleased if we wanted to adopt one, I know she would. You should see him, Mum, the little grey tabby kitten. He’s got white paws and white under his chin. His nose is all pink and soft because he’s so small.”
Mum smiled at her. “He sounds lovely, Emma. But a kitten like that might be a lot of work. Maybe we could find one from somewhere else?”
Emma looked desperately at her dad. She ought to be delighted – Mum had never said anything about being able to get a cat before. Emma knew that she was lucky to have her riding lessons – she’d never thought they’d be able to have a pet at home, too. But now she didn’t want just any cat, she wanted to help those little kittens at the stables.
She’d always felt sorry for the stable cats, not having proper homes to go to. They didn’t seem to mind – they curled up together in the stalls, and Liz put food out for them – but it wasn’t like a lovely warm basket by the radiator, or sleeping at the end of someone’s bed. She didn’t want the kittens to grow up wild like their mother, even though Tiggy was gorgeous.
“Let’s see what we can find out about taming kittens,” Dad suggested. “They were very sweet. And I think it’s too late to put Emma off them. She’s already fallen in love with the little tabby. I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl? We didn’t get close enough to check.”
“I thought he was a boy, just because he looked like he was wearing a little white shirt. But I don’t know for sure.”
Emma’s dad looked over at her mum and she smiled.
“We’ll see,” Mum said. “I’m not promising anything, but perhaps you could do a bit of research. Find out what we’d have to do…”
“Yes!” Emma squealed. “Oh, Mum, this is so exciting! Please can we hurry up and eat lunch so I can look it all up on the computer.”
“Hello, Ivy Bank Stables?”
“Hi, Liz,” Emma said, a bit shyly. She’d never rung up the stables before – usually Mum did it if they had to book a lesson.
“Oh! Is that you, Emma? Is everything OK? How’s your ankle?”
“It doesn’t hurt at all now. I’m just ringing because I’ve been talking to Mum and Dad about the kittens. I asked if we could adopt one, but my mum’s not sure. She says maybe it ought to be somebody who’s more experienced with cats.” Emma frowned to herself, trying to remember all the information she and Dad had looked up that afternoon. “But the thing is, if they’re going to be rehomed, the kittens need to have lots of contact with people, so they’re not shy around humans like Tiggy and the others are. So I was wondering if I could come and spend some time with them.”
“Yes, that makes sense,” Liz said slowly. “And it’s lovely that you want to help look after them, Emma. Of course you can – if your mum and dad are fine with it.”
“Oh, they are,” Emma told her. She hesitated, and then went on, “I’m really hoping Mum will let me adopt one of the kittens, if I can help tame them. At the moment she’s a bit worried that they’ll be too wild. But we’ve found lots of ways to help with that. Me and Dad have been doing loads of research. It’s the little tabby one I really love.”
“He’s adorable, isn’t he? So, is there anything I should be doing? Or the others at the stables?” Liz asked.
“I think just try to spend some time with them. Would it be OK if I came to the stables after school sometimes, as well as for my lessons? The more the kittens get used to people, the better. I’m guessing you want to find homes for the others as well?”
Emma heard Liz sigh down the phone. “Yes, I need to think about that. Perhaps I’ll put a notice up on the board outside the stables.”
“Oh!” Emma suddenly remembered something she’d read on a website. “There’s a charity that’ll help with neutering the cats. They’ll even come and get them for you! They’ll catch them and neuter them for free, and then bring them back.”
“Really? That sounds amazing. Could you find their details for me, please?” Liz laughed. “You really are serious about cats, aren’t you, Emma?”
Emma went to the stables whenever she could get Mum or Dad to drive her. She spent most of her pocket money on a cat care book, just in case she did manage to persuade Mum to take the tabby kitten home. The kitten woul
dn’t be allowed to leave his mother until it was seven or eight weeks old, anyway. They had to give the kittens the chance to learn everything they needed from Tiggy. So she had plenty of time to read the whole book and persuade her mum that the tabby kitten would be the perfect pet.
The first time she went, Emma just sat quietly by the door. Tiggy watched her suspiciously, her ears laid back and the tip of her fluffy tail twitching. It was obvious that she was making Tiggy nervous, but she had to get to know the kittens, Emma told herself. It was so important. She wrapped her arms round her knees and just sat listening to the squeaks and rustles in the straw. By the time Dad came to pick her up, Tiggy was lying down feeding the kittens as if Emma wasn’t there.
On her next visit, Emma decided to bring Tiggy some cat treats. If Tiggy was distracted, she might let Emma near the kittens. Liz had told her that Tiggy had licked the bowl of fish spotlessly clean, so Emma decided to get fish-flavoured ones.
She crouched down a little way from the kittens and shook some treats out of the packet next to Tiggy. The cat sniffed at them curiously. Emma could tell she wanted the fishy treats, but that she wasn’t ready to eat in front of her. Emma sat with her chin on her knees, looking away from Tiggy. Out of the corner of her eye, she could just see her edging closer to the pile.
Tiggy made one last little hop and started to gobble down the treats. Then she sniffed cautiously at Emma’s right foot – the part of her that was nearest – and darted back to her kittens. Emma couldn’t stop herself beaming. It felt like a breakthrough.
She opened the packet again, making sure that Tiggy could hear it rustle. Then she wriggled a bit closer, shaking out a few more treats right next to the cat. Emma really wanted to get a proper look at the kittens, as she thought they must be just over a week old by now. She was hoping that their eyes would be open. Her cat book said that the kittens would all have blue eyes to begin with.
“They’re definitely bigger,” Emma whispered to Tiggy, who was still eating the treats. “They’re beautiful.” Tiggy looked up at Emma with her ears laid back, and Emma sighed. “I know you don’t like me talking. I don’t want to scare you. I just want them to get used to hearing my voice. Anybody’s voice, really.”
Tiggy crunched the last fishy biscuit, and Emma took a deep breath. She had stroked the cat a couple of times before, but not since she’d had the kittens. Slowly, she held out her hand to let Tiggy sniff it.
Tiggy dabbed her nose at Emma’s hand cautiously, but she didn’t hiss or raise the fur on her back. She actually looked quite calm. She rubbed her chin along Emma’s wrist, and then strolled back towards the kittens.
Emma held her breath and put the same hand down in the straw, next to the kittens. Tiggy lay down, stretched out beside her babies, and Emma smiled delightedly. She was almost touching them! And the little tabby was right next to her hand. Emma wondered if he could smell the fishy treats, too, but she thought he was probably a bit young for that. His eyes were definitely open, though – just tiny blue slits. He looked like a teddy bear, with his round face and little triangle ears.
“I’m so lucky,” Emma whispered, “getting to know you now when you’re so small.”
The kitten mewed squeakily and waved his front paws, wriggling closer to Emma. “I’m not your mum, small puss,” she whispered. “I think you want to be over there. For some milk.” Very gently she scooped him closer to Tiggy, so he could latch on and suckle. His fur was the softest thing she’d ever felt.
“I’ve got to think of a name,” Emma muttered. “I can’t keep just calling you small puss. Sam maybe? Or Sammy… You look like a Sammy. My little Sammy cat.”
As the weeks went by, Sammy and the other kittens grew amazingly quickly. By four weeks they could all walk properly, and suddenly they seemed to be interested in everything.
Tiggy spent a lot of her time trying to herd them back together, hurrying round them in the scattered straw and shooing them back to the nest. But as soon as she had one kitten safely tucked away, the other two would be padding out to explore again. Emma thought that Tiggy looked very tired. Liz had been putting down lots more food for her than usual, and Emma had been bringing her bowls of special cat milk and extra snacks, but it was hard work herding kittens and feeding them, too.
The kittens were more like mini cats now – their heads still seemed much too big for their little bodies, but they’d lost their furry balloon look. They were really growing up.
“Hello,” Emma whispered, crouching down by the door of the stall. Three little heads popped up at once, and she giggled. They looked so funny, like the meerkats she’d seen at the zoo. Almost at once the tabby kitten plunged over the edge of the straw nest to come and see her.
“I’ve got something really special for you,” Emma murmured. She and Liz had been talking about how they were going to wean the kittens – to get them eating food as well as Tiggy’s milk. Emma had looked it up in her book, and Mum had got some baby rice and evaporated milk from the supermarket to mix up for the kittens. It looked a big disgusting, but then Emma didn’t much like the look of normal cat food, either.
She’d bought a special litter tray as well, to put in the corner of the stall. According to her book, now that the kittens were trying solid food, they were going to poo a lot more, too. Until now Liz had just scooped out the dirty straw every day.
Liz had said she’d be able to do most of the feeds and cleaning, and Alex and Sarah, who also taught at the stables, had said they could help as well. The kittens were going to need a bowl four times a day, so it was lucky Liz and the others were around.
“This is going to be yummy,” Emma promised, dipping her finger in the white goo and holding it out to Sammy.
Sammy sniffed curiously, and Emma rubbed the goo on his nose. He stepped back in surprise and sneezed. Then he licked at the dribbles of baby rice that were running down his muzzle. It was good! He licked harder, running his bright pink tongue all round his mouth and nose.
Sammy padded closer to the girl, hoping for some more of the white stuff. Emma was holding another splodge out for him, and he licked it straight off her finger this time, trying to gobble it up fast. He could hear his brother and sister coming up behind him, and he didn’t want to share.
“Look,” Emma murmured. “There’s a whole bowlful…”
Sammy sniffed hopefully at the bowl, and then started to lap hurriedly. The other two kittens appeared beside him, and his sister plunged her face into the bowl eagerly. She came up smeared in white milky stuff, dripping from her nose and her black whiskers.
The girl laughed, and all the kittens jumped, staring at her nervously.
“Sorry,” she whispered softly.
Sammy watched her for a moment, then decided that she didn’t mean any harm and went back to lapping. The food was so tasty, but it was making him sleepy, just like feeding from his mother did sometimes. He licked at the last smears at the bottom of the bowl, and then licked his whiskers and yawned.
His brother and sister began to pad back towards their mother, to sleep curled up next to her, but the nest in the straw was a long way away. Sammy yawned again and eyed the girl. She was warm, too – he knew it from the times she’d stroked him. He walked towards her, wobbling a bit, and tried to climb up her leg.
Emma looked at him, smiling in delighted surprise. Then she gently scooped a hand underneath his bottom and lifted him up on to her lap. Sammy flopped down, full and sleepy, and began a tiny purr.
“Oh, Emma,” Mum whispered from the doorway. “Is that Sammy? You said it was the tabby one you really liked.”
“Yes,” Emma breathed. “He fell asleep on me. And he was purring, Mum.”
“He is gorgeous,” Mum said, smiling. “What does Tiggy think about him sleeping on you?”
Emma giggled. “She’s asleep, too. I think she’s grateful! She must be worn out looking after them all. I need to ask Liz if she’s got something we can put across the doorway of the stall, a plank of wood m
aybe. So that Tiggy can get out, but the kittens won’t. Otherwise they’ll be wandering all over the place soon. We might never find them!” She sighed. “I suppose we have to go, don’t we?”
“We can hang on for a little bit. I don’t want to make you move him. Why don’t I go and ask Liz about finding something for the door?”
Emma nodded. Then, as her mum was turning to leave, she suddenly whispered, “Mum!”
“What is it? Is he waking up after all?”
“No, it’s just … do you think we could adopt him? You said we had to see about having one of Tiggy’s kittens – in case they were too wild.”
Her mum looked down at Sammy, stretched out blissfully on Emma’s knee. “He doesn’t look very wild, does he?”
Emma shook her head, beaming.
Mum smiled at her. “All right then, we can adopt him. I’ll tell Liz now.”
Keira stood by the door of the stall, looking cautiously round it at Tiggy and the dancing kittens. Emma had managed to persuade her to come and see them at last. They were playing with a toy that Emma had bought – a bundle of feathers on the end of a long wire that she could flick and wave about. The kittens loved it. They stalked it, pounced on it, bounced around it, and all the while Tiggy sat watching them proudly. Every so often she couldn’t resist and put out a paw to dab at the feathers, too.
“They’re so funny,” Keira whispered to Emma. “I wish…”
“You could have a go,” Emma suggested, holding out the toy.
