Ginger the Stray Kitten Page 2
Suddenly, Rosie sat up straight, staring out of the front window in excitement. Why shouldn’t that girl be her? The kitten needed a new home, and he already liked her. She could name him Ginger! It was perfect!
Except that she would have to persuade her mum, of course.
“What is it, Rosie?” her mum asked. “A rabbit didn’t run in front of the car, did it? I didn’t feel anything.”
“What? No! Mum, can we have a kitten?” Rosie gabbled. “Please? All Mrs Bowen’s cats need new homes, and we’d be a perfect new home, wouldn’t we?”
Mum didn’t say anything for a minute, and Rosie stared at her hopefully. At least she hadn’t said no at once.
“I don’t know, Rosie,” Mum murmured at last. “It would be nice to have a pet – but those kittens are wild. They aren’t used to people. I don’t know if we’d be the right home. Someone who knows more about cats would be better, I think.”
“We could learn about cats!” Rosie pointed out eagerly. “And those kittens really, really need homes, Mum. Did Gran tell you the rescue centre people are coming to get the cats tomorrow? They’ll hate being in a rescue centre, in cages. There’s one of the kittens, Mum, he’s really sweet, and he’s already almost tame. He lets me stroke him and he even eats out of my hand. He’d be a brilliant pet!”
“Well, I’ll think about it. Maybe we could go and see them, see how tame they really are. I’m not sure I want a wild kitten climbing my curtains…”
Rosie beamed. She was sure that Ginger was hers already. He was so cute Mum just wouldn’t be able to resist him!
Back at the farm, the ginger kitten curled up next to his mother and brother and sisters, in a pile of hay in the old barn. It made a cosy nest, and he licked his paw sleepily. He was thinking about that girl, and wondering if she would come back tomorrow. She might bring more food, and maybe she would stroke his fur again. It was nice when she did that, a bit like his mother licking his ears.
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.
He ate all of it, his whiskers twitching at the strange taste. He wished the girl would come back and feed him some more of that delicious ham. He had been surprised when she stroked him, but he’d quite liked it. If she came back now, he wouldn’t be all on his own and she might stroke him some more. Oh, if only somebody would come!
Rosie practically towed Gran to the farmyard after school.
“All right, Rosie, all right! But we can’t stay long. Mrs Bowen is still busy packing. She’s moving tomorrow. She won’t want us bothering her today,” Gran said firmly.
“I know, but I must just find out about the kittens, whether the people did come today. Mum said we might be able to pop into the rescue centre on the way home!” Rosie looked up at her gran with shining eyes. “If she likes him, we could even take him home this afternoon!”
Gran smiled. It was lovely to see Rosie so excited, although she wasn’t sure Rosie’s mum would agree to a kitten straight away.
Mrs Bowen waved to them from the kitchen window. She was piling china carefully into a big box, and looked a bit hot and bothered.
“Did they come?” Rosie asked her excitedly. “Did they take all the kittens to the rescue centre?”
Mrs Bowen smiled. “Oh yes, dear. This morning.”
“Have you got the address?
” Rosie asked hopefully. “Mum says we can go and look at the kittens – she might even let me keep one of them! The sweet little ginger one, you know?”
Mrs Bowen wrote it down, and Rosie folded up the piece of paper and tucked it carefully in her pocket.
Mum had said she’d try and leave work a bit early so they could go to the rescue centre that evening, and now Rosie sat by Gran’s front window, watching for her car. When her mum arrived at last, she dashed out to meet her.
“The kittens are at the rescue centre! I’ve got the address, Mum. Come on, they’re only open until six!” she cried.
Her mum laughed. “All right! But remember, Rosie, we’re just looking. I know you hope we’ll be taking that kitten home, but I still need to think about this. And anyway, I can’t imagine we’ll be allowed to take one of them yet. They’ll need to be checked by a vet, to make sure they’re fit and healthy.”
Rosie nodded. “But at least let’s go and see!” she pleaded.
Secretly she was sure that as soon as her mum saw Ginger, she would give in. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to take him home today, but they could still tell the rescue centre people that they wanted him!
The rescue centre was in the next village. The girl at the reception desk knew about the kittens, and she smiled at Rosie’s eager questions.
“I’m sure you can go and see them,” she said. “We wouldn’t usually let people visit the kittens until we’d checked them over, but seeing as you already know them…” She led Rosie and her mum through to a room at the back, with large cat-runs in it.
Rosie spotted the tabby mother cat at once. She was prowling up and down the run, looking anxious.
“Oh, she really doesn’t like being shut in. And she must be upset that she’s not with her kittens,” Rosie said sadly.
The girl from the rescue centre nodded. “I know. But because she’s a feral cat we need to separate her kittens from her now, before they get too old. It’s so the kittens can get used to humans and to give them the best chance of settling in when they go to their new homes. They’re in that run at the end, want to see them?”
“Oh, yes… Come and see, Mum!” Rosie whispered, grabbing her mum’s hand and pulling her along.
“Oh, they are sweet!” her mum agreed, peering through the wire. “Look at that little black one!”
But Rosie was staring anxiously into the run. There were four kittens in the basket, curled up asleep – one black, and three tabbies. There was no lovely little ginger kitten.
Ginger wasn’t there!
Chapter Four
“Don’t cry, Rosie,” Mum said gently as they walked back to the car.
Rosie was trying not to cry, but there were just a few tears that she couldn’t seem to stop. She was thinking about what could’ve happened at the farm when the cats were caught.
Why hadn’t Ginger been with them?
Probably he’d found a sneaky way out of the barn and slipped away. But why? Perhaps he’d just been frightened of the rescue centre people, but it was also possible that he had stayed behind at the farm to wait for her. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to go with the other cats because of her, because she’d been feeding him and playing with him.
She had read about feral cats on the internet and knew that they were good hunters, but Ginger was too young to hunt properly for himself. His mother would still have been catching food for her kittens, and showing them how to chase the mice in the barns. Without her to feed him, he might starve. Rosie nodded firmly to herself. She had to go back to the farm. She just had to find him, however long it took.
Rosie was determined to stop and look for the kitten the next day, but she and Gran got a shock when they reached the farm. Gran had come another way to collect Rosie from school, because she needed to go to the shops, and they both stopped in surprise as they came close.
“Goodness, that’s gone up quickly!” Gran exclaimed.
A huge wire fence was now surrounding the farmyard, covered in big notices about wearing hard hats, and no children playing on the building site. It was a building site already!
Rosie pressed her face up against the wire fence. The farmyard was deserted, with no sign of life at all.
“Can’t we go in and look for him?” she asked Gran.
“No, Rosie, look – it says no one can go in.” Gran sighed. “We’ll just have to keep coming by and hope we spot him – or perhaps we could ask the builders to keep an eye out. There’s no one here now, but I’m sure there will be soon, otherwise they wouldn’t have bothered to put the fence up, would they?”
Gran was right. The next day, a couple of men in yellow hard hats were wandering round the building site with a little machine that beeped, which Rosie and Gran guessed was some sort of clever measuring gadget. It took them ages to catch the men’s attention, but at last one of them came over.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Have you seen a kitten?” Rosie said nervously. “There were some cats here, and they were taken to a rescue centre, but we think one of the kittens ran away and…” She trailed off. “We just wondered if you’d seen him? A ginger kitten?”
“No, sorry.” The builder turned away. Rosie didn’t dare call him back, even though she wanted to.
“Could you keep an eye out for him, please!” Gran called, and Rosie squeezed her hand gratefully. She’d wanted to ask that, too.
They carried on walking, Rosie looking back sadly every so often. They seemed to be able to see that fence for ages.
“Don’t give up hope, Rosie,” Gran told her. “You never know.”
But Rosie couldn’t help feeling that her chances of finding Ginger were getting smaller and smaller. What if he had escaped before the fence went up. Maybe he wasn’t there at all!
Ginger was hiding between two hay bales in the barn, peering out occasionally, and trembling as the men’s heavy boots thumped past the door. Who were they? And why were they stamping and crashing round his home? He wished his mother and his brother and sisters would come back, but he was almost sure now that they were gone for ever. If his mother had still been here, she would have come to find him by now, wouldn’t she?
He had hidden in the barn when the men came to put the fence up, and he’d dashed back there again this morning when they returned. He didn’t dare do more than poke his nose out occasionally to see if they’d gone. He was starving, and it was getting harder to find anything to eat in the bin bags by the farmhouse.
There were voices outside now. Were more people coming? He shivered. He wanted the farm to go back to being quiet and safe like it was before. He listened miserably, but then his ears pricked up. He knew that voice. It was the girl! She was there! Maybe she’d known he was hungry and had brought him some more sandwiches? He edged nervously round the barn door, the fur on his back ruffling up.
The men were still there, and the girl was talking to one of them. If only they would go, he could run over to her. Perhaps she didn’t know he was here. He mewed a tiny mew, hoping she would hear. But he didn’t dare call more loudly in case the men saw him.
No! The girl was turning away. She was going!
Rosie walked sadly away down the lane with Gran, leaving the kitten staring desperately after her.
The girl had gone, and Ginger didn’t know if she would come back. He felt so small and scared, and very, very alone…
Chapter Five
On Friday Gran was waiting outside school for Rosie as usual. It was spitting with rain, and Rosie was taking a while. She and Millie were among the last few to come out, and Millie had her arm round her friend.
“Rosie’s really upset about Ginger,” she explained to Rosie’s gran.
“I just don’t think I’m ever going to see him again,” Rosie whispered sadly.
“You mustn’t give up!” Millie said firmly.
Millie’s mum had come up and was giving Rosie a concerned look. “Is everything OK, Millie?” she asked, and Millie explained about Ginger being missing.
Rosie lifted her head. “No! No, we haven’t, we should try that! Can we do that today, Gran? Oh no, I should have saved my sandwiches for him!”
“You could buy some cat treats in the pet shop!” Millie suggested. “Sammy loves those, especially the salmon-flavour ones.”
“Please!” Rosie begged. “I’ll pay you back out of my pocket money, Gran.”
Gran smiled. “I think I can afford some cat treats. Come on then.”
“Oh, I wish I could come with you, but I’ve got dancing,” Millie said. “I’d love to see him. I bet he’ll come out for those cat treats.”
“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.