Холли Вебб - Smudge Тhe Stolen Kitten

Olivia perched nervously on the edge of the sofa. Ben was sitting on the sofa arm, and for once he didn’t look as though he was planning anything silly. Olivia crossed her fingers. “Are there really kittens at the Rescue Centre right now?” she asked Debbie shyly.

Debbie nodded. “Two litters, actually. One’s mostly ginger and white, and the other litter are a smoky grey. They’re all really sweet.”

Olivia’s eyes shone as she imagined sitting on the sofa, just like she was now, but with a tiny grey kitten purring on her lap.

Debbie went through a long list of questions, checking how much time the kitten would be left alone, and that Olivia’s mum knew they’d have to pay for vet’s bills. Olivia could see the list if she leaned over, and it mostly had ticks in the boxes. Hopefully Debbie would say yes!

Just as Debbie was handing Mum some leaflets about pet insurance and flea treatments, Dad came in with a tray of tea. He passed the cups round, then he sat down on the sofa next to Olivia. There was a sudden, very loud, very rude noise, and Dad jumped up, his face scarlet.

Ben practically fell off the sofa arm he was laughing so much, and Olivia pulled out a whoopee cushion from behind Dad.

“Ben!” Mum sounded horrified.

“I’d forgotten it was there, sorry,” Ben said, but he didn’t look very sorry at all.

Olivia looked over at Debbie, her eyes starting to burn with tears. Did having a stupid, rude big brother mean no kitten?

But Debbie was giggling. “I haven’t seen one of those in ages. My brother used to do that all the time.” Then she looked serious. “A kitten really is a big responsibility, though. And everyone in the family has to be prepared to help care for it properly.” She was staring at Ben, who looked embarrassed.

“I will look after it, I promise,” he muttered.

Debbie nodded. “Right then.” She signed her name in swirly letters across the bottom of the form. “You can come and choose your kitten tomorrow!”

Chapter Two

Olivia doodled on her reading record book, trying to think of the best name for a beautiful little grey kitten, or perhaps a sweet gingery one. She quite liked Esmerelda, herself. But then Dad had said at breakfast that it had to be a name that they didn’t mind yelling down the garden to get the kitten to come in for tea. Olivia giggled. She couldn’t really see Ben shouting, “Es–mer–el–da!”

Fluffy? Smoky? Whiskers? None of them sounded quite right. Olivia scowled down at the picture she was drawing. A kitten with big, sad eyes, just waiting for her to come and bring him home. She wished they’d been able to go to the Rescue Centre yesterday, straight after Debbie had approved them, but Mum said they needed to get everything ready first, and Olivia supposed she was right. They didn’t even have a food bowl!

Lucie elbowed her in the ribs. “Mr Jones has got his eye on you, Olivia!”

Olivia straightened up and tried to look as though she was listening. She loved history usually, but today she couldn’t think of anything except kittens. They were going to the pet shop after school to get everything, and then on to the Rescue Centre!

The kitten finished his bowl of biscuits and licked his paw, swiping it across his nose and ears. Then he trotted over to the wire front of the pen and stood up on his hind paws, his front claws scraping on the wire. He scrabbled at it for a moment, hoping that someone might come and open it for him. Sometimes the Rescue Centre staff came to play with the kittens, when they weren’t too busy. But maybe they wouldn’t, now that it was only him.

He unhooked his claws, and pattered sadly back to the cushion on the shelf in the corner. It was too big for just him – until yesterday, three small grey kittens had shared it, and now when he curled up he was lost in the middle. He missed his sisters. Even though the centre was kept warm, he still felt chilly all on his own.

“The kittens are this way.” Debbie smiled at Olivia and Ben, and their mum and dad. “You haven’t changed your minds then? You’d still like one?” she teased.

“Yes!” Olivia nodded so hard her bunches shook up and down. “And we’ve got a cat basket and a litter tray and a grooming brush and some toys and two bowls!”

Debbie laughed. “All you need is the kitten then! Come on.” She led the way down the corridor, which was lined with wire-fronted enclosures. They were full of cats, all watching as Olivia walked past. She blinked, feeling suddenly sad. It wasn’t that the little pens weren’t nice – the cats all had a basket and toys, and most of the pens were built with a shelf, so the cats could be high up, where they felt safe. But they weren’t a proper home. She wondered how often they got cuddled or stroked.

“We do take them all out every day. At least once,” Debbie said quietly.

Olivia blinked. How had Debbie known what she was thinking?

“I know it doesn’t look very cosy, but it’s better than being out in the cold.” Debbie sighed. “I’d like to take them all home, but I already have five cats… I can’t really have any more…” She shook herself, and smiled firmly. “Look. The two litters of kittens are in the large pens down this side.”

“Oh…” Olivia crouched down in front of the wire pen.

Four ginger kittens were bombing around, chasing each other round a scratching post and up on to a shelf where a white cat, who Olivia guessed was their mother, was trying to sleep. They scrambled over her – she looked as though she was used to it by now, her ears didn’t even twitch – and then jumped down and did it all over again.

“Goodness,” Mum muttered. “They’re very energetic, aren’t they?”

Olivia looked up at her anxiously. She hoped Mum wasn’t changing her mind. “We’re only going to have one,” she pointed out, her voice a little squeaky with worry. “They only look bouncy because there’s so many of them.”

Debbie nodded. “Kittens are very energetic, but Olivia’s right. Just one won’t be quite so crazy. Look, we’ve got just one grey kitten left in the pen a little further down, he’s a bit calmer.”

Olivia had been so excited seeing the gorgeous ginger kittens that she’d almost forgotten there was one more.

“There were three in this litter, but two of them were rehomed yesterday. I think this little one’s feeling a bit lonely.” Debbie beckoned them along the corridor to the enclosure, where a small grey kitten was stretched out on his sleeping shelf, licking a paw and looking sad. He glanced up as Olivia and her family came closer, and Olivia laughed delightedly. His round green eyes gave him a permanent surprised look, and he had a dark smudge on his tail – almost as though someone had flicked a black paintbrush at him.

The kitten jumped down from his sleeping shelf, and pattered over to the wire front of the pen.

“He’s so beautiful, Mum,” Olivia whispered. “Look at him! He’s so cute, with his little smudgy tail!”