Felix the Fluffy Kitten and Other Kitten Tales

All the parcels were wrapped in silver and gold. Michael tore off the wrapping to find all sorts of goodies. His favourites were a box with a black cat on it and a book about kittens.

Right at the bottom of the stocking, in its toe, Michael found a handful of chocolate coins covered in gold foil. He peeled four of them, crammed them in his mouth and then pulled on a jumper, ready to race downstairs.

Under the tree in the sitting room, he knew he’d find his big presents. He still hoped that there might . . . just possibly . . . be a kitten.

Downstairs, the sitting room was lit by the same soft glow as Michael’s bedroom. Under the tree, parcels of all different shapes, colours and sizes had arrived, as if by magic. But Michael couldn’t see a kitten.

For a moment he felt disappointed.

“Michael!” his mum called from upstairs. “We can hear you!”

“Come up and show us your presents!” his dad said.

Michael began to feel a little bit excited again as he looked at the parcels with his name on them. “Coming!” he called back. He picked up as many of his presents as he could carry and made for the door. But just as he was going out of the room, Michael heard a strange noise.

Miaooww!

Michael was so surprised he dropped some of the parcels he was carrying. He put the rest of them down and began to look for where the noise was coming from.

He looked under the sofa, under the table and chairs, and behind the sideboard. But no luck.

He looked behind the bookcase and out in the hall. He still couldn’t find anything. Perhaps he’d imagined it.

Miaaowww!

But there it was again! And it was coming from outside . . .

Michael ran over to the curtains and pulled them open. The garden was blanketed with snow.

And there, pressed up against the glass door that led to the back garden, was a small black kitten. A very snowy kitten.

“Oh!” Michael cried. He opened the door and scooped up the kitten in his arms. “What are you doing out there in the snow?”

Holding the bedraggled black bundle against the warmth of his jumper, Michael shivered and quickly closed the door. “I wonder who you belong to?” he whispered.

The kitten looked up at Michael with bright green eyes, then mewed.

And to Michael, it seemed she was saying, “I belong to you!”

Chapter Three

Very quietly, Michael crept upstairs to his bedroom. He put the kitten on his bed and covered it with a fold of duvet to keep it warm.

He stroked its soft damp fur, hardly able to believe it. A kitten, waiting for him on Christmas morning!

The kitten was black, except for a white, star-shaped mark that stretched from nose to chest.

“I’m going to call you Star,” Michael decided. He thought the kitten looked like a girl. He tickled her tiny pointed ears. “You’re my Christmas Star!”

The kitten began to purr softly, and rubbed a tiny black cheek against Michael’s hand.

“Michael, what are you doing?” came his dad’s voice.

“Almost there!” Michael called back. He didn’t dare tell his mum and dad about Star. They might not let him keep her. No, he’d have to hide her for the time being. And then, after Christmas, he’d think about what to do.

Michael bent to kiss Star’s soft forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Star,” he whispered. “I’ll bring you something to eat.”

Quietly, Michael left his bedroom and went downstairs to pick up some of his parcels again.

“Happy Christmas!” his mum and dad said as he went into their bedroom. “Let’s see your presents.”

There were some great things in Michael’s parcels – a computer game, a video and two more books from his favourite animal series. There was also a safety lock, a horn and some lights for his bike – and some money from his gran towards buying it!

“So are you pleased, love?” Mrs Tappin asked, smiling.

Michael nodded. “They’re all brilliant!” he said happily. Especially my secret present, he thought to himself.

Later that morning, Michael’s mum and dad were getting suspicious. Usually Michael spent Christmas morning downstairs, playing with his new toys and watching TV, but today he’d spent a lot of time upstairs in his room.

“Do you feel all right?” Mrs Tappin asked. “One minute you’re here, next you’re gone! You’ve hardly looked at your new bike stuff. I don’t think you’ve even opened your books!”

“I feel great!” Michael replied. “I’m just going upstairs to . . . to write some thank-you letters.”

His dad looked at him with astonishment. “Are you sure you feel all right, Michael?”

“Course I do!” Michael said, then he ran up to his room and closed the door behind him.

Snuggled in Michael’s duvet, Star was snoozing. Earlier, Michael had brought her up a bowl of breakfast cereal, mashed up with lots of milk. She’d eaten every bit; then, with a round, full tummy, she’d fallen fast asleep. Michael was planning to bring her some turkey later.

Suddenly the kitten’s eyes opened. Seeing Michael, she began to purr madly.