Дженни Дейл - Felix Тhe Fluffy Kitten Аnd Other Kitten Tales

Star seemed to know something was up. She peeped out from behind the plant, looking from one to the other of them.

Michael took a deep breath. “I’d like to spend my bike money,” he announced.

“You want to buy your bike now?” his mum said.

“No . . .” Michael said slowly. “I want to spend the money on Star. She needs injections and a cat basket and a collar and—”

“Yes, that’s true,” his dad interrupted. “But . . . what about your bike?”

“I still want it,” Michael said, “but that can wait. Mostly I want to look after Star. And I thought that if I bought all her things myself you might . . . let me keep her . . . if no one else claims her.”

Michael’s mum and dad looked at each other. “What do you think, Clive?” Mrs Tappin asked.

“Well,” Mr Tappin said seriously, “having watched Michael with Star, I do think he’d look after her properly.”

“So do I,” Mrs Tappin agreed, smiling. “And no one’s claimed her . . . so . . .”

Michael flew over to Star, picked her up and held her tightly. “Did you hear that, Star?” he said. “You can stay here, with us!”

Star began to purr and rubbed her face against Michael’s chin.

“Oh, by the way, Michael . . .” Mr Tappin said.

“Yes, Dad?” Michael asked.

“All that money you’ve got – how would you like to buy me some new trousers and shirts?” his dad joked.

“And if you’ve got any money left over, I’d like a new set of sitting-room curtains, please,” Michael’s mum joined in. “Star seems to think curtains are there for her to use as a climbing frame!”

As her new family laughed, Star smiled too – though to anyone else it looked like a yawn. Yes, she thought, she’d chosen her new home very well. And here she was going to stay . . .

Nell

the Naughty Kitten

Special thanks to Angie Sage

Chapter One

“Tom quick, look! Nell’s doing it again!” yelled Tom Morgan’s twin sisters, Jo and Hattie.

Tom ran to the door and stared across the farmyard to the pigpen. A fat, squealing pig was tearing round the pen in a panic. Sitting calmly on the fence was a little stripy ball of fluff.

The ball of fluff was Nell, the new kitten on the farm.

“Oh no!” Tom pulled on his wellingtons and rushed out into the farmyard. Hattie and Jo ran after him.

Nell’s favourite game was playing with the short, curly tail of Poppy, their heavily pregnant pig. But Poppy didn’t seem to like this game very much.

Tom ran up to the pigpen just as Poppy skidded to a halt and stamped her trotters crossly. Nell jumped neatly down from the fence and landed at Tom’s feet.

The kitten looked up at Tom and began to purr. He was her favourite person on the farm.

Tom picked Nell up, trying not to smile. “You’re a naughty girl!” he said. “Poppy could have squashed you!”

“It’s not funny,” said Hattie.

“No, it’s not,” agreed Jo. “You know Poppy’s expecting piglets and she mustn’t get upset. This is the third time this week that Nell’s been inside her pen. Mum will be really cross when she finds out.”

Tom sighed. He knew Jo was right, but he found it hard to be angry with Nell. She was such fun ! Much more interesting than his goldfish, Eric. Tom knew that Hattie and Jo loved Nell too, but not as much as he did.

“Well, we don’t have to tell Mum,” said Tom as he walked back to the house holding Nell tightly, just in case she decided to do something else naughty.

“I bet she’ll know anyway,” said Hattie. “Poppy won’t stop squealing.”

“Mum always knows if Poppy is upset,” said Jo. “And she’ll guess it was Nell again.”

“But promise you won’t tell her,” shouted Tom over the noise of his mother’s tractor coming into the farmyard.

“We won’t,” said Hattie and Jo.

Tom took Nell into the kitchen and put her into her basket. “Now you stay there,” he said, trying to be stern. “Don’t muck around any more today!”

Nell didn’t like it when Tom was cross. “Can’t we play with my toy mouse?” she miaowed.

But Tom still looked serious.

Nell sat back in her basket and yawned. She decided to give herself a bit of a wash. But before long, she fell asleep.

Tom got up and looked out of the window. He watched his mum get down from the tractor and look into the pigpen. Hattie and Jo were shaking their heads solemnly.

“I hope Poppy’s all right,” Tom muttered to himself as his mum marched across the farmyard towards the kitchen.

The kitchen door opened and Mrs Morgan stomped into the house.

“Hi Mum,” said Tom warily.

“Where’s that cat?” replied Mrs Morgan.

“She’s not a cat, Mum, she’s only a kitten,” said Tom. He went over to the cat basket where Nell was fast asleep.

“And she’s too young to understand about pigs,” said Hattie, coming into the kitchen.

“And she’s usually really good, isn’t she, Tom?” added Jo.

“Yes, she is,” said Tom. “She’s just not used to being on a farm yet, that’s all, Mum.”

Mrs Morgan pulled off her boots and flopped down at the kitchen table. She looked tired. “Put the kettle on, Tom love,” she said.

Tom filled the kettle with water and plugged it in.

Mrs Morgan wriggled her toes and put her feet up on a chair.

“Well,” she said, “I know Nell is only a kitten but she’s come here to be a farm cat.”

“I know, Mum,” said Tom.

His mum carried on, “That means not jumping in the animal feed. And not pulling straw out of the bales. And not chasing the ducks and pouncing on the animals. Especially the pigs. And especially Poppy.”

“I know, Mum,” Tom said again. “Nell will learn to be a good farm cat. I’m sure she will,” he added, crossing his fingers for luck.

The kettle boiled and Mrs Morgan got up to make herself a cup of tea. She poured out some orange juice for Tom, Hattie and Jo and then sat down again, looking worried. “The thing is, I don’t want Nell to upset Poppy again,” she said. “Poppy is due to have her piglets next week, and if she’s upset, she may not look after them properly.”

Tom’s heart thumped hard. Was his mum hinting that Nell might have to leave the farm? He had to think fast. “We could keep her inside until Poppy has had her piglets,” he suggested. “She could stay in my bedroom. I’d make sure she stayed in – honestly Mum! And I’d feed her and empty her litter tray and look after her and—”

“All right,” laughed Mrs Morgan. “You can keep Nell in your room until Poppy has had her piglets, OK?”

“Thanks, Mum!” Tom grinned. It would be great to have Nell sleep in his room. He often crept down to the kitchen at night to see if she was all right.

Tom picked up the cat basket and carefully carried it upstairs.

Nell stirred and gave a little miaow. In her dreams she was flying through the air.

Tom had just reached his bedroom door when Hattie bounded up behind him.

“It’s not fair you having Nell,” Hattie said, grabbing the basket.

“We want to have her too,” said Jo, coming up behind Hattie.

“Well, Mum said she could go in my room,” said Tom, trying to grab the basket back.

“No, in ours,” his sisters hissed.

“Mine!”

“ Ours !” Hattie tugged the basket and Nell tumbled onto the floor. She woke up with a start and shot off into Tom’s room and hid under his bed.

“See. She likes my room the best anyway,” said Tom.

“No she doesn’t!” said Hattie crossly, still holding the basket.

“You just scared her, that’s all,” said Jo.