Ginger the Stray Kitten

“Thanks for the brilliant idea,” Rosie told her gratefully, and she and Gran set off to the pet shop.

“Call me and let me know if you see him!” Millie yelled after them, and Rosie turned back to wave. Millie had understood at once why she was so upset. She adored her fluffy, white cat, Sammy. He’d been lost for a couple of days last year, and it had been awful.

Rosie chose the salmon treats, like Millie had suggested. Sammy was gorgeous and podgy and liked his food – Ginger was sure to like them, too. Then they walked quickly over to the farm. From a long way down the lane, they could hear banging and the rumbling sounds of big vehicles. Rosie and Gran exchanged a look and speeded up to see what was going on.

The farm looked so different. The builders were knocking down the barn! A huge, yellow digger was thundering past them on the other side of the fence – even Rosie felt scared by how big and loud it was. How would a kitten feel!

“Oh no!” Rosie cried. “That’s where the cats all used to sleep.” She watched as the digger tore at the walls. She clung on to the wire fence, pressing her face against it so hard she could feel the wires marking her forehead, and looked frantically around the building site. She still couldn’t see the kitten.

“He’s not there, is he?” she asked, her voice shaking. “You don’t think he was in the barn, when they – when they started pulling it down…”

Gran stared through the fence at the builders and their machines, and sighed. “I don’t know, Rosie. He could just be hidden away somewhere because he’s frightened. It’s so noisy, he might want to come out, but he doesn’t dare.” She put her arm round Rosie.

“Try the cat treats,” she suggested gently. “Why don’t you scatter a few through the fence? Maybe the smell will tempt him.” She helped Rosie tear open the tough packet. “Goodness, I should think he’d smell that from miles away, they’re very fishy, aren’t they?”

The treats did smell very strong, and Rosie pushed a few through the mesh of the fence. Then they waited, watching the builders in their bright yellow vests and hard hats as they cleared away the broken pieces of wood that were all that was left of the kitten’s home. But there was no sign of Ginger – no long, white whiskers peeping out from behind a hay bale, no ginger tail flicking round the corner of the farmhouse. He was nowhere to be seen. After ten minutes of waiting and calling, Gran turned to Rosie.

“It’s starting to rain harder, Rosie. We’d better go, but we’ll try again. Maybe your mum will bring you over tomorrow or on Sunday. We won’t give up.”

Rosie nodded, feeling slightly better. She would never give up on Ginger.

Even though he was only across the farmyard, Ginger hadn’t seen them. He was lurking under the abandoned tractor, shuddering each time the digger crashed and clanged through his old home. He had run out as soon as the builders had come into the barn, and had been hiding here ever since. He was wet, cold and hungry, and now he didn’t even have anywhere to sleep!

As the barn was flattened, Ginger came to a decision. This wasn’t his home any more. It hadn’t been his home since his family had gone – he realized now that his mother wasn’t coming back. He needed to get away, and find somewhere new.

Perhaps he could go and find that nice girl with the sandwiches?

Rosie’s mum took her back to the farm on Sunday, and they stood by the fence calling for ages.

“Put some more cat treats down,” Mum suggested. “Then at least he’ll have something to eat.”

Suddenly Rosie gasped. “Mum, look!”

“What is it? Have you spotted him? I can’t see anything.” Mum peered through the fence.

“No, that’s it, I can’t see anything, that’s the point! The cat treats I poked through the fence on Friday, they’ve gone!”

“Are you sure?” Mum asked.

“Definitely. I was right here, so they should be just on the other side of the fence. Ginger’s been here, he’s eaten them! Oh, Mum!” Rosie beamed at her, feeling so relieved. She bent down to empty some more cat treats out of the packet.

“Rosie, what’s that?” Rosie looked up to see her mum pointing across the farmyard, down to the side of the farmhouse. “Can you see? It looks like something ginger, by the bins…”

Rosie jumped to her feet. Mum was right. Slipping along the side of the farmhouse was a flash of gingery fur. It had to be him!

But then the creature slunk out further into the yard, sniffing at the piles of wood from the barn. A gingery fox, with a bright-white tail tip.

“Oh no…” Rosie breathed. It wasn’t very big, but compared to a tiny kitten it was huge. “It might hurt Ginger, and oh, Mum, I bet it was the fox who ate the cat treats!”

Mum sighed and nodded. “I’m afraid it could well have been, yes.”

Sadly, they turned and walked away, Rosie blinking back tears. She had promised herself she wouldn’t give up, but it was starting to look hopeless…

That evening, Rosie’s mum was determined to cheer her up. A television programme they both liked was just about to start and Mum hurried upstairs to fetch her.