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“Mum, please don’t send him away!” Emma wailed. “I don’t want any other cat, only Sammy! He’ll be fine, he will. I’ll do anything to keep him.” She stared pleadingly at her mum, tears trickling down her cheeks. She couldn’t bear the thought of poor Sammy going to a shelter – somewhere else strange and new and frightening. He’d have to start all over again, and soon it would be too late to tame him. He’d be shy and wild forever.

“Look, just give us a few more weeks, love,” Dad suggested. “Of course today’s a bit of a setback, but we have to keep trying.”

“Two more weeks.” Mum looked from Emma to Dad and back again. “We have to be able to tell by then, don’t we?”

Dad nodded slowly.“All right. Emma?”

“I suppose so,” Emma whispered huskily. She was so upset her voice seemed to have disappeared. Two weeks! It was no time at all.

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“What’s the matter?” Keira asked, as she led Jasmine past Emma and Sparky. “Is Sparky being a pain about getting tacked up again? You look, well, a bit sad…” she trailed off, not sure what to say. Emma looked like she might be about to cry.

“No.” Emma sniffed. “Actually Sparky’s been a total star. Maybe he can tell I just can’t deal with a tricksy pony today.”

“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.

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“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 hadme 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.”

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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.

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“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.”

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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.