Felix the Fluffy Kitten and Other Kitten Tales

As her fur got dry and fluffy, Star curled round and round on Michael’s lap, loving all the attention. Purring non-stop, she put out her tongue and began to lick Michael’s hand.

“It feels all tickly,” he laughed. He was so happy! He’d wanted a cat for ages . . .

While he’d been drying the kitten, the family had been watching, and now they all thought Star was really sweet.

But someone didn’t think she was very sweet. Archie stood on red alert, ears pricked and eyes wide, watching the stranger’s every movement.

Michael’s dad told him to put Star down next to the older cat.

“I hope they’ll be friends,” Michael said anxiously, lowering Star to the floor.

The big tabby cat and the tiny black kitten stared at each other. Their noses twitched as they sniffed unfamiliar scents and their tails swung slowly from side to side. They were weighing each other up.

Star took a timid step closer to Archie, but Archie immediately gave a low growl of disapproval. He raised his back into a high arch and fluffed up his raggedy fur.

Star shrank away, scared. Michael moved in to pick her up and protect her. He wasn’t going to have his little kitten frightened!

“They’ll be friends all in good time,” said Michael’s gran.

“I expect the little thing’s hungry,” Mrs Tappin said. “Maybe she wants her Christmas lunch.”

Michael nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes, please,” he said. “If you give me some turkey, I’ll chop it up for her. And can she have some gravy on it?”

His mum laughed. “I suppose you want the gravy warmed up?”

“Yes, please,” Michael said.

Mrs Tappin returned with Star’s food and gave it to Michael. He put it down in the middle of the floor and sat down right beside her to watch her eat it.

Star munched away, her tiny white teeth flashing and her pink tongue hungrily licking up the gravy.

“Look at her eat!” Mr Tappin said. “Anyone would think she’d never seen a Christmas lunch before.”

“She hasn’t!” Michael said, and then realised that his dad was joking.

Archie had some turkey too, of course, and when both cats had finished their meal they sat by the fire. They didn’t look at each other but sat carefully licking round their mouths and smoothing their whiskers with their paws.

“I think they’re going to be friends,” Michael said. He beamed at his gran. “Archie can be Star’s grandad!”

The three grown-ups looked at each other.

“Don’t forget, love,” his mum said, “Star might not be here for long. She belongs to someone else. You’re just borrowing her.”

Michael didn’t answer. He watched his lovely kitten, not wanting to miss a lick of her paw or a swish of her tail.

When she’d finished washing, Star stretched and yawned widely. Michael thought she was about to fall asleep but she suddenly leapt right over the dozing Archie and made a beeline for Michael’s dad. She ran straight up his trousers, across his jumper and round the back of his neck.

Mr Tappin gave a shout of surprise. “She’s climbing onto my head!”

Everyone started laughing.

“It looks like you’re wearing a furry scarf!” Michael’s gran said.

“Aren’t kittens fun!” Michael said, happily.

“Yes, they are,” said his mum. But then her face turned serious. “But Michael, you must remember that Star isn’t really yours.”

Michael pretended not to hear her again. Star was his. She was . . .

Chapter Five

“Now, what shall we say on this poster?” asked Mr Tappin.

It was three days after Christmas and he and Michael were sitting at his computer. They’d contacted the RSPCA and the local vet to report that they’d found a kitten, and now they were making a poster.

“I don’t know,” Michael said. He didn’t want to be helpful.

“I suppose we should start off by describing her,” said his dad. “Black kitten with white star-shaped mark on her chest . . .”

“What if no one claims her?” Michael asked.

“Don’t build your hopes up,” Mr Tappin replied. “Someone must be really worried about her.”

There was a scratching at the door. Michael went over to open it and Star padded into the room. She rubbed her head against his ankle, purring loudly.

Michael picked Star up and took her to sit with him. The kitten seemed very interested in the computer and leapt from Michael’s lap onto the table.

Zedtonimplurr appeared on the screen as she stepped daintily across the computer keyboard.

“Out of the way, naughty puss,” said Mr Tappin, laughing.

Star blinked up at him, giving her cutest look. “Mia–oww!”

Michael’s dad grinned. “She is a sweet little thing,” he said. “I’ll miss her when she goes.”

“So will I,” said Michael, picking her up and hugging her. Oh, please, he thought to himself, please don’t let anyone claim her . . .

That afternoon, Michael and his dad went round the village, putting up the posters:

KITTEN FOUND ON CHRISTMAS DAY

BLACK, WITH WHITE STAR-SHAPED MARK ON HER CHEST

Please contact: 8 Harshaw Villas

Telephone: 0126 545 593

“I think we only need to put up one or two posters,” Michael said.