Sammy the Shy Kitten

by Holly Webb

  “Oh no, what is it?” Keira swapped Jasmine’s reins to her other hand and gave Emma a hug. “Don’t cry!”

  “I can’t help it.” Emma’s voice shook. “Mum says we might have to give Sammy to a shelter. She thinks we can’t cope with him.”

  “But wasn’t it going really well?” Keira said, confused. “You showed me that photo your dad took of him eating off your fingers. He looked so happy.”

  “He’s still jumpy, though,” Emma gulped. “Mum thinks he’s not going to adapt to living in a house. He got scared last night because my auntie was there and he scratched me. I didn’t mind – not much – but Mum was really upset about it. She says we’ve got two weeks to prove he can be a proper pet, or he has to go.” She could hardly get the last words out, she was crying so much.

  Keira hugged her tighter, and even Sparky and Jasmine leaned in close, as if they wanted to make Emma feel better.

  “Two weeks is a long time,” Keira said. “Honestly, it really is. And I saw how friendly and tame he was with you here. You nearly had me stroking him, Emma, and I’m scared of cats!”

  “I suppose so…” Emma said, between gasps. “It doesn’t feel like long, though. If he goes to a shelter he’ll be all lost and alone. It’ll be awful.”

  “Then you absolutely have to make sure it doesn’t happen,” Keira said firmly. “I’ll see if I can think of anything to help.” She gave Emma one last hug. “Ems, we have to go. Liz is waving at us. She wants us to try those dressage aids today, remember?”

  Emma nodded and sniffed hard. “I’m OK. I’m so glad I told you about it, Keira. I do actually feel a bit happier.”

  Emma grabbed her riding hat from the back seat and looked anxiously at Auntie Grace’s purple car parked outside their house.

  “It’s all right,” Dad said soothingly. “She said she wouldn’t go near Sammy. Although we will have to try and get him used to meeting new people eventually. She’s got something for you.”

  Emma hurried down the path, curious to see what Auntie Grace had brought. She had a feeling it was something important – not just a magazine or some chocolate to cheer her up, but something that really mattered.

  “Emma! I’m so glad you got back before I had to go to work. Look, I’ve brought you this.” Auntie Grace whirled out of the front door on to the path. “Here. I really hope it helps.”

  Emma looked down at the book that her aunt had pressed into her hands – Taming Feral Kittens. There was a gorgeous little ginger kitten on the front of it, with a shy, worried look on his face that made Emma think of Sammy at once.

  “I got it at the animal shelter. I thought I’d go and ask them if they had any tips for you. They were so friendly and helpful. This was written by someone who used to work there, and they said to call if you get really stuck. I wrote the number inside the cover for you.” She hugged Emma. “Sweetheart, if Sammy does have to go there, they will look after him, I promise.”

  Emma nodded. “But it’s not going to happen,” she said firmly. “This is brilliant, Auntie Grace. I’m going to go and read it now.”

  Sammy sat in the doorway of the crate, looking out suspiciously. Everything was different – the crate had been moved down on to the floor, and he didn’t like that, for a start. He preferred to be high up, so he could see who was coming. High up was safe.

  But he liked the open door. He thought he did, anyway. He sniffed the air beyond the crate, his whiskers twitching. He could step out, right on to the floor. He could explore. Cautiously, he extended one paw over the door frame, and then the next, and then his two back paws.

  He stood nervously just outside the crate, watching, scanning the room. Emma was there, sitting in the corner, and her dad was over by the counter. She wasn’t looking at him – she was gazing off into the distance as if she hadn’t noticed what he was doing. Sammy took a few steps out into the room and sniffed.

  Food! He could definitely smell food. He was sure it was well past his usual feeding time. He’d been expecting Emma to bring food, but instead she and her dad had lifted his crate down on to the floor. Determinedly, he stomped across the floor, towards the smell. Emma had his bowl on her lap. He stopped a few steps away from her, looking uncertainly at the bowl. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go any closer, but he was hungry.

  His tail swished from side to side, and then he made a panicked little run, flinging himself at the bowl. What if she took it away? Sammy climbed up on Emma’s leg and started to gobble down the food as quickly as he could.

  “It’s all right,” Emma murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Sammy’s ears flickered, but he didn’t stop eating. Then he felt her stroking him, very gently running her hand over his shoulders and down his back. It was nice – it felt like his mother licking him. He slowed his eating down a little, almost sure that the bowl wasn’t going to be taken away.

  At last, he’d finished the whole bowl. He licked round it carefully and then sniffed it to make sure there wasn’t any more. There wasn’t, but he was full anyway.

  Slowly, carefully, he settled down into a crouch on Emma’s lap. She was still stroking him, so gently. Sammy stretched out his paws and kneaded them up and down on Emma’s skirt. Then he closed his eyes and purred.

  Emma tucked the phone under her chin so she could talk to Auntie Grace and have both hands free for scrabbling after the ping-pong ball as Sammy sent it skittering around all over the floor.

  “It really works,” she told her aunt, a little breathlessly. “We started on Sunday after I’d had time to read the book. All this week, we’ve only fed him with the bowl on me or Dad, so that he has to come to us to get his food. And he’s always hungry, so it works perfectly. The very first time we tried it, he let me stroke him and he even purred! I’m starting to think he actually does like me,” she added shyly.

  “Of course he does. Oh, that’s wonderful, Emma! I felt awful when your mum said you might have to give him up.”

  “Me, too. But I’m so hoping she’s going to let me keep him. She was laughing at him this morning, when he was playing with his feathery toy before school. He kept almost falling over backwards, he was trying so hard to catch it.” Emma threw the ping-pong ball again for Sammy. “We’re doing the next thing it says in the book now. He’s going to be allowed out in the kitchen all the time, not just for food time and playing. His bed and his litter tray are still in the crate, but we’ll leave it open so he can come and go when he wants to.”

  “And then I suppose you’ll bring his bed out, and eventually get rid of the crate?”

  “Exactly. I don’t know how long it’s going to take, though. The book says it depends on the kitten. Oh, Sammy!”

  “What did he do?” Auntie Grace laughed at the other end of the line.

  “He chased after the ball so fast he ran into the cupboard. He’s fine, he just looks a bit confused. One minute.” Emma laid the phone on the floor and wriggled closer to Sammy, murmuring comforting noises. She was sure that he looked embarrassed, if a kitten could. His ears had gone flat.

  “It’s OK,” she whispered and without thinking about it, she scooped Sammy gently into her hands and snuggled him up against her cardigan. “Oh… I didn’t mean to…” It was the first time she’d ever picked him up. But Sammy hadn’t clawed her, or jumped away in fright. He was huddled against her, so tiny and fragile that she could feel his heart beating under her fingers. “You don’t mind?” she murmured. “Oh, Sammy, I do love you…”

  “Hey…” Dad whispered from the doorway. “He looks happy!”

  “Dad, can you pick up the phone?” Emma whispered. “I was talking to Auntie Grace. She must be wondering what happened to me. Can you tell her I’ll call her later?”

  Dad chuckled. “Sure. I’ll tell her you’re occupied with some very important business.”

  “Are you sure?” Emma looked worriedly at Keira. “I mean, I’d love it if you came over for lunch. But I know how you feel about cats.”

 
“Exactly,” Keira called back, as she hefted Jasmine’s saddle over to the tackroom. “And so does your mum. So if even silly Keira isn’t scared of playing with Sammy, he must be OK as a pet, mustn’t he? The two weeks are up, aren’t they? We need to show your mum how good Sammy is.”

  “Two weeks yesterday. I haven’t wanted to ask Mum what’s happening.” Emma sighed. “And I never said you were silly,” she added quickly.

  Keira grinned. “I know. But I am silly. I can’t even say what it is that makes me frightened of cats. They just make me so nervous.”

  “I don’t want you to be miserable.” Emma frowned. “And…” She nibbled her bottom lip. “If you’re nervous it might make Sammy nervous, too,” she explained. “He was all right with Auntie Grace when she came over in the week. She was really good, she just sat on the floor completely still until he was brave enough to sniff at her. But she’s used to cats and she wasn’t scared.”

  “I won’t be scared, either,” Keira said. “I promise. I said I’d try to think of something I could do to help, and this is it. I’ll be brave.” She smiled at Emma. “Honestly. I’ll be fine.”

  “He’s in here, in the kitchen.” Emma looked back at Keira. She could see her mum hovering behind her friend, with an anxious expression on her face. Mum obviously wasn’t sure about this – neither was Emma, to be honest. But Keira seemed so certain. She’d explained to Emma’s mum in the car that she wanted to try and stop being scared of cats, and that she knew she’d be OK with Sammy because he was so little.

  Emma opened the door slowly and peered round. “Oh, he’s asleep in his basket. Actually, that’s good. How about we sit on the floor for a bit? We can have a snack, and then when he wakes up we can let him come and see you.”

  Keira nodded. She was quite pale, Emma thought. But she looked determined, too. “That’s a good idea.”

  Emma took her hand, pulling her gently into the kitchen to sit down half under the table. That would give Sammy plenty of space to look at them properly before he got out of his basket. Keira even giggled when Emma’s mum handed them a plate of cheese cubes and apple to eat under there. “It’s like being really small and making tents under the table. Did you ever do that?” she whispered.

  “Yes! Hey, I think he’s waking up.” Emma glanced at her. “Sure you’re all right?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  Emma could feel Keira tensing up beside her. Maybe it was a stupid idea, after all. But it was too late to do anything about it now.

  Sammy stretched and yawned, and popped his head up out of his basket to see what was happening. He was hungry and he could smell something delicious. Not his normal food, but that only made it more exciting. He twitched his ears forward and gazed at Emma under the table. Emma and someone else. He flicked his tail from side to side worriedly. It wasn’t someone he knew, but she was sitting quite still. She had some of whatever it was that smelled so nice, he could see it in her hands. And she was holding it very close to the floor…

  Sammy hopped out of his basket and set off across the floor, his whiskers trembling as he smelled the cheese. He nudged his head against Emma’s feet on the way, as if to say that she belonged to him. But he was still more interested in the cheese. He padded between Emma’s legs and the new girl’s, and sniffed hopefully at the girl’s fingers. She was holding that piece of cheese as if she didn’t really want it at all.

  He froze for a second, ears flickering, expecting someone to shoo him away. But no one did. Swiftly, Sammy swooped the scrap out of her hand and gulped it down, savouring every crumb.

  Then he licked Keira’s fingers, just to check he hadn’t missed any. He felt her laugh – her fingers shook – but there was no more cheese. He gave her one last lick, and turned to scramble up into Emma’s lap. He could still smell cheese, and he was sure that if Emma had any, she’d give it to him. He hauled himself up her leggings, breathing hard, and half fell into her lap. Then he sat there and gave a massive yawn, showing all his tiny sharp teeth and his raspberry-pink tongue.

  “He’s gorgeous,” Keira whispered, sounding quite surprised.

  “You didn’t mind when he licked you?” Emma asked. She couldn’t stop smiling – Sammy had perched himself on her lap like he belonged.

  Keira wrinkled her nose. “Actually, I was really scared. But he’s so little – I just kept thinking I could run out if I couldn’t deal with it.”

  “Oh, Keira,” Emma’s mum murmured. “Do you want to go into the other room?”

  Keira shook her head. “No, I think it’s OK,” she said cautiously. “He’s really good.”

  Emma’s mum nodded. “I suppose he is.” She smiled at Emma. “So, are you having lunch under the table, then?”

  “I don’t think we’d actually get much of our lunch if we did that.” Slowly, carefully, Emma moved on to her knees, cuddling Sammy against her fleece top as she stood up and went to sit on one of the kitchen chairs. She was waiting for him to leap away, but Sammy only stretched his neck out so he could peer over the edge of the table at the plate of sandwiches that her mum was putting down.

  Keira laughed. “He’s eyeing the food as though you never feed him, Emma.”

  “He needn’t think he’s making a habit of sitting on your lap at mealtimes,” Mum said sternly. “Just this once.”

  Emma stared at her delightedly. “You mean…”

  Her mum nodded. “Yes – I was talking to your dad about it last night. Sammy’s so much happier now. Oh, Emma, watch out, he’s going for that ham sandwich!” She quickly pulled the plate back, and Sammy looked disappointed.

  “I’ll get you a bit in a minute,” Emma whispered in his ear. “A whole sandwich, if you like!”

  Sammy yawned again and purred a little and rubbed his face against her hand. Then he nuzzled at Emma’s top, and pawed his way gently over the zip, snuggling down inside.

  Emma looked down lovingly at the little tabby kitten curled up inside her fleece. “Sammy, you’re staying!”

  Anya lay on her front in the sand, trying to build a tower of pebbles. It was quite tricky because she was holding a cheese sandwich, so she only had one hand free for building. She was a bit full for another sandwich really, but as they were on holiday her mum had let her put ketchup in them so she didn’t want to waste it.

  “Anya, did you want a drink?” Mum called over from the picnic blanket. “And some cake?”

  “In a minute,” Anya murmured, balancing a large black stone on top of her tower and looking at it hopefully. It wobbled for a second or two – and then the whole thing collapsed. Anya sighed, but she didn’t mind that much. It was the fifth time she’d built it and it always fell down in the end. This tower had been higher than any of the others. She got up and wandered back over to the picnic blanket, where her mum and dad were trying to persuade her little sister, Jessie, that she was too small for cake. Jessie was only nine months old, but she was convinced that everybody else’s food was nicer than hers. Anya thought she was probably right – some of the meals in the baby recipe book sounded very odd. Who would want to eat Tasty Lentil Surprise?

  Anya took her drink and a slice of cake and moved over to the edge of the blanket so that Jessie couldn’t see her. Otherwise it would just be mean.

  The beach was really busy today. Anya looked around at all the other families, who were mostly eating their picnics, too. Anya’s family had only come to the beach for a quick visit the day before, when they’d first arrived in Saltmere. There had been unpacking to do and Jessie had been a bit tired after the long car journey. This was their first proper beach day. Anya hadn’t felt lonely yesterday – it hadn’t been the real start of their holiday. But today… She couldn’t help wishing that she had someone else to build sandcastles with – or make mermaid statues, like those three girls over by the steps up to the promenade. Or even swim – there was a whole big family group standing by the edge of the water now, the children squeaking at the coldness of the waves washing over their toes.

&n
bsp; “Oh, look…” Anya whispered, as the family’s dog sploshed through the water, too. She darted into the waves and then shook herself all over the children, making them squeal.

  “They’re so lucky,” Anya murmured to herself. The dog was gorgeous, even when she was wet. Anya wasn’t really sure it was a girl dog, of course, but the dog was so pretty – golden-brown and curly all over, with great fluffy ears and a sort of topknot of blonde fur. The seawater had turned her curly fur into coiling tendrils all over. She wasn’t very big, and Anya wondered if she was still a puppy.

  She watched the family splashing with each other and playing with the dog while she tried to build her tower of stones again. She couldn’t help feeling a bit jealous. There was an older boy, a girl about her age and a littler girl as well. They were all laughing and flicking water at each other.

  Anya sighed and looked round at Mum and Dad and Jessie. Her little sister was cute and Anya adored her – most of the time. But it was going to be quite a while before Jessie would be big enough to play in the sea with her.

  And the other family had a gorgeous fluffy puppy, too! Anya loved dogs and she really wished they could have one of their own. Dad had said maybe – when Jessie was bigger. He’d had a dog when he was Anya’s age and he loved them, too. But he said he didn’t think a dog was a great idea with Jessie being so tiny – and grabby. Even the nicest dog would get grumpy if Jessie pulled at its ears, he pointed out, and Anya had to admit that he was right. Jessie was always pulling her hair and it hurt, even though Jessie didn’t mean it to.

  The children were coming out of the sea now, heading back to their spot further along the beach by the steps. Anya could see their mum and dad waving. The fluffy little golden dog was racing along the beach after them, stopping to sniff here and there. Anya giggled as she saw the puppy gobble down a bit of sandwich that someone had dropped and then sniff at a pile of seaweed. She looked like she might be about to eat that, too, and Anya wondered if she ought to tell the children. Seaweed wasn’t the sort of thing that would be good for a dog to eat. Anya frowned disapprovingly as they hurried back to their parents along the beach. How could they not notice that their dog had been about to eat something disgusting? She couldn’t help thinking that if she had such a lovely dog, she would take better care of it than that.