Дженни Дейл - Felix Тhe Fluffy Kitten Аnd Other Kitten Tales

“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.

“No, we’ll need a few more than that,” said Mr Tappin. “Maybe ten or twelve.”

“I’ll do them,” Michael said quickly. “You can go home.”

Mr Tappin shook his head. “I’m not daft!” he said. “You wouldn’t put up any at all if I left you to it, because you don’t want anyone to find out we’ve got Star!”

“I would,” Michael said. “But I might put them up back to front,” he admitted. “Or I might not push the drawing pin in very hard and they might fall off!”

His dad laughed. “That’s why I think I’d better be here.”

When they’d put up ten posters, including one in the post office, they walked home.

Star was sitting on the kitchen windowsill, looking out. When she saw Michael she began to miaow happily.

Michael walked into the kitchen and grinned. “I love having her here, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do, love,” Mr Tappin said. “But I’m sure the person she belongs to will be searching for her. And they’ll soon see one of the posters we’ve put up.”

Michael picked up Star and held her tightly. He just didn’t want to think about that.

The phone call came two days later, just as Michael was about to take Star upstairs to bed.

Mr Tappin answered the phone and Michael saw his face grow serious. “I see. Yes, we’ve got her,” he said. “That’s right, black, with a white mark on her chest . . .”

Michael began to feel sick.

“Yes, tomorrow morning will be fine,” his dad went on. Mr Tappin put down the phone. “That was a Mrs Patel from Dinby Way.”

Michael didn’t say anything.

His dad shot him a sympathetic glance. “She bought a kitten for her daughter’s birthday a couple of weeks before Christmas and it disappeared.”

Michael felt like he was going to cry. “No!” he said.

“Mrs Patel said her daughter misses her kitten very much,” his dad said quietly.

Michael scooped Star up and ran upstairs to his bedroom. “Star wants to be with me!” he cried as he slammed the door. “They’re not having her!”

Chapter Six

“Post, Michael!” his mum called the next morning. “There’s something for you from Scotland.”

“OK,” Michael said gloomily. He and Star were playing with a ping-pong ball, and he kept thinking that this might be the last time they ever played together.

Star put out a velvety paw and swiped the ball – right between Michael’s knees. “Goal!” he laughed. “Clever girl!” He rolled the ball for Star one last time. While she scooted after it, Michael went into the kitchen.

His mum held out an envelope to him, smiling. “It’s from Scottish Granny,” she said.

Scottish Granny, who lived near Aberdeen, always sent New Year cards and presents instead of Christmas ones. Michael usually got a book token from her.

He took the envelope and looked at his watch. Nearly eleven o’clock! He’d been up since before it was light that morning, playing with Star. This time tomorrow, someone else would be playing with her.

“Aren’t you going to open the card?” Mrs Tappin asked.

Michael nodded, slit open the envelope and pulled out a New Year card. But it didn’t have a book token with it. Instead, there was a cheque – for fifty pounds!

“Oh!” Michael cried. “The rest of my bike money – all at once!”

His mum smiled. “Granny knew you’d been saving hard and wanted to help,” she explained.

Michael put the card and the cheque down on the kitchen table. He tried to feel excited. But really all he could think about was Star.

He went back into the sitting room. Star was now curled into a black fluffy ball, fast asleep behind the sofa.

Michael crouched down to watch her. Star’s whiskers twitched gently as she breathed in and out. She looked so sweet that Michael felt as if he was going to cry.

Just then, he heard a noise on the gravel outside. There was a knock at the door. Star opened her eyes and peered up at him.

Mrs Tappin came into the room. “That’ll be the people for Star,” she said gently. She put an arm round Michael’s shoulders. “Be brave, love. You’ve looked after her very well. And perhaps in a year or so, you can have another kitten – a kitten of your own.”

Michael shrugged her arm away. “I don’t want another kitten!” he said. He was trying really hard not to cry now.

Michael’s dad showed Mrs Patel and her daughter Nashi into the room. Michael thought they looked very nice. But he couldn’t like them – they were going to take Star away from him.

“She’s behind the sofa,” he muttered, then turned away and blew his nose. “She’s asleep. She likes sleeping there.”

Nashi, a small girl with long plaits, crawled behind the sofa.

Michael held his breath.

After a few long seconds, Nashi crawled out again, looking upset. “It’s not her!” she said.

Michael felt the tightness and the tears inside him disappear as if by magic. He let out his breath in a long sigh.

“Are you sure?” Mrs Patel asked.

Nashi nodded sadly. “It’s definitely not our Leyla,” she said. “Leyla has one white toe, and a bit of white on the end of her tail as well.”

Mrs Patel turned to Michael’s mum and dad. “Thank you,” she said. “We’ll try the vet’s next. There’s a lost kitten there.”

“I really hope you find her,” Michael said to Nashi.

Nashi smiled. “Thank you,” she said. Then she and her mother went off towards the village vet’s.

Michael let out a shout of joy. This made Star jump. She sprang to her feet and, before Michael could catch her, ran straight up Mr Tappin’s trouser leg and huddled on his right shoulder.

“Ow!” Michael’s dad yelled, hopping around. “Her claws are getting sharper! And she’s making holes in all my shirts!”

Star scrambled down his front and pounced on his slippers. What fun!

Michael and his mum couldn’t stop laughing. As Star skittered across the wooden floor and hid behind a potted plant, Michael felt so happy, he thought he would burst!

“Well!” Mrs Tappin said.

Then there was a long silence.

“So . . .” said Mr Tappin. “What now?” He scratched his head. “No one else seems to be missing a kitten around here. It’s a mystery where she came from.”