Misty the Abandoned Kitten

Suddenly, the kitten sprung up on to the tree house ladder, and Amy and Lily held their breath. Then, keeping one eye on the girls, she started to gobble up the treats from the doorway.

When they were all gone, she licked the place where they’d been, then looked up hopefully.

“She’s still hungry!” Amy said. “Let’s open another packet.”

Lily shook her head. “No way. She’ll be sick. A whole packet’s loads more than she should have, anyway!”

Amy nodded. Then she held out one hand, very slowly, to the kitten, who was staring at her seriously. Amy scratched her gently behind the ears, and she half-closed her eyes with pleasure.

“Hello, Misty,” Amy whispered.

Chapter Five

The kitten sat there a little nervously, still ready to run, as Amy stroked her and then Lily joined in too.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Amy said proudly.

“The prettiest kitten I’ve ever seen – except Stella,” Lily added, out of loyalty. “Oh, Amy, she’s started purring!”

She had. Amy had just found the exact itchy spot behind her left ear, and the kitten had her eyes closed, and a tiny little throaty purr was making Amy’s hand buzz.

“Tea, girls!”

The kitten’s eyes shot open. She leaped off the ladder and raced back along the branch, jumping down on to the fence and disappearing away.

“Bye, Misty!” Amy called after her quietly. “Why did Mum have to pick just then to call?” she complained to Lily, as they scrambled down from the tree house. “I think Misty might even have let us pick her up.”

Lily nodded. “She was definitely friendly. But you’re right, she is much too thin. When I stroked her I could feel her ribs. She needs a nice owner to feed her properly.”

The kitten obviously agreed. She came back to the tree house the next afternoon at the same time, and Amy opened one of the tins of cat food she’d bought. She put it in an old plastic bowl she’d borrowed from the kitchen cupboard, and sat in the doorway of the tree house, watching Misty gobble it down. Misty let Amy stroke her again, too, and even put her paws on Amy’s leg, as though she was considering climbing into her lap.

“Are you going out to the tree house again?” Mum asked. “It’s raining, though! I didn’t realize you loved it that much.”

“It’s my best present ever!” Amy giggled, a little guiltily. She did love the tree house, but that wasn’t the main reason she was spending so much time out there. Every afternoon that week, as soon as she got home, she’d rushed straight there to look out for Misty.

She threw on her hoodie over her uniform and went out to the tree house. The ladder was slippery from the rain so she climbed up slowly, peering out along the fence for a little kitten. But no kitten came running to see her today. She sighed. Maybe Misty was sheltering from the rain somewhere.

She stood up and pulled open the tree house door, planning to sit and read on the beanbag, while keeping an eye out for Misty through the window.

But the beanbag was already occupied.

A little kitten – her fur shiny and spiky from the rain – was curled up on it, fast asleep.

Now that she had discovered that the tree house had a soft, comfortable place to sleep, and that Amy would come and feed her, Misty spent most of her days there, even though she still went back to Mrs Jones to sleep at night. She had climbed in through the half-open window that first time to get out of the rain, and Amy hadn’t seemed to mind. In fact, she’d looked really pleased, and spent ages stroking her. The window was always open a little way now, so that she could get in, and there would always be a little bowl of cat crunchies or something else delicious waiting for her.

“I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but I think you’re looking plumper,” Amy told the kitten lovingly, a week after she’d first found her inside the tree house. She stroked the little black tummy, as the kitten lay sleepily in her lap. “Are you getting fatter, Misty?”

“Prrrrp.” The kitten purred, and yawned. Then she snuggled up on Amy’s lap, feeling more at home than she had for a long time.

Amy stroked her gently, wishing Misty was really hers. “Stay here, puss,” she murmured. “This is your tree house now too.” But it was getting dark now and Amy knew she’d have to head inside soon, and leave the kitten all alone.

“Amy! Your tea’s getting cold!” came her mum’s voice, from just below the tree house.

Amy jumped and so did Misty, springing off her lap.

She could hear her mum climbing up the ladder. Panicking, Amy dropped her hoodie top over Misty. She couldn’t let the secret out now – not when Misty felt almost hers. Mum would never let her keep a kitten.

Amy’s mum poked her head through the doorway. “I’ve been calling you for ages!”

“Sorry!” Amy got up quickly and went over to her mum, hoping she wouldn’t see the wriggling hoodie behind her. She followed her down the ladder.

Misty edged her way out from under the top, shaking her fur crossly. Why had Amy done that?