Ginger the Stray Kitten

He snuggled up closer to his tabby sisters, and closed his eyes. The hay was soft and warm, and he quickly fell asleep, never dreaming that everything was about to change.

Chapter Three

The next morning, the kittens were startled awake by the noise of a vehicle driving into the yard. Mrs Bowen didn’t have a car, and she took most of her eggs to the village shop to sell, so very few people drove up to the farm. The kittens blinked at each other, then peered blearily over the edge of their straw nest. The kittens’ mother, the spotted tabby cat, went to stick her nose round the old barn door. The ginger kitten pattered after her, eager to see what was going on. He wriggled between his mother’s front paws, staring out into the yard.

Mrs Bowen was standing by the back of a van, next to two girls. One of the girls opened up the doors and started to unload some odd-looking boxes. The van smelled strange, the kitten thought. He’d never smelled anything quite like it before. And what were those wire box things?

His mother was tense beside him, her whiskers pricked out as she watched what was going on. His brother and sisters were starting to mew and cry back in their nest, as they smelled the fear scents on their mother and the other older cats who were watching, too. They just didn’t trust humans. The tabby cat backed into the barn so that her ginger baby wasn’t between her paws any more, and butted him hard with her nose.

He looked round in surprise. What was the matter? Why was she pushing him? Was it a game? Then he saw that her eyes were wide with fear, and the fur had risen all along her back. This was no game. She swiped the kitten with her paw, sending him sliding out into the yard, and then she hissed at him with her ears laid flat back against her head. It was quite clear what she was telling him to do.

Run!

The ginger kitten scooted quickly out of the barn door, heading for the old tractor. The tyre had come away from the wheel, and the ginger kitten had found this wonderful hiding place while he was playing at jumping out on top of his sisters. There he waited, his heart thudding with fear, trying to work out what was going on.

His mother had darted back into the barn to try and fetch his brother and sisters, and some of the other cats were trying to make a run for it, too. But as soon as they’d seen that the cats knew they were there, the two girls had quickly put a net round the barn door. Now they’d put on big gloves, and they were catching the cats with strange things that gripped them round the neck.

Ginger watched in horror as one by one his brother and sisters were caught, and placed into wire cages. He could hear them mewing frantically as the cages were loaded into the van. Then one of the girls walked right up to the tractor where he was hiding.

The kitten edged back as far as he could go, trembling. He didn’t want the girl to see him, but now he couldn’t see what was happening. Where were they taking his brother and sisters? Were they all in that horrible-smelling van? Had they caught his mother, too? He couldn’t see! His tail thrashed from side to side as the girl walked past, searching – for him, maybe. Ginger curled himself into the tiniest ball, his eyes wide with fear.

“I’ve just caught the last one. I’m glad I had my gloves, she was struggling like anything!” shouted a voice from across the farmyard. Ginger then listened as the girl walked away from the tractor and the van doors slammed shut.

As the van drove off, a small bright-pink nose peeped out from the wheel of the tractor. Ginger watched the van rattling out of the farm gate, carrying his brother and sisters away from him, and gave a miserable little mew. Should he try to follow them? But he was sure his mother hadn’t been happy about where they were going. Where was his mother? Maybe she’d managed to find a hiding place, too? Perhaps she would come and get him now the people had gone? Or should he try to find her?

Ginger crept out of his hiding place, and started to search the farmyard. It smelled empty, and there was no sign of any other cats at all. But he couldn’t believe that his mother had left him. She wouldn’t! Even if they had caught her, she would have got away somehow.

He wandered round the outside of the barn, mewing sadly, and wishing she would come back soon, because he was getting hungry. Maybe she’d gone hunting for a nice mouse for his breakfast. Yes, that was probably it.

As the morning wore on, he got hungrier and hungrier. He searched around for his mother and mewed pitifully for her, but still she didn’t come.

At last he went a little closer to the farmhouse, drawn by the smell from the bins. Mrs Bowen had been clearing out her fridge and cupboards, and there were some black plastic bags lying there. The kitten pawed at one of them hopefully and clawed a little hole, hooking out some old cheese. He nibbled at it. It wasn’t very nice, but it was better than nothing.