Holly Webb - Sammy the Shy Kitten

Auntie Grace stepped back out of the kitchen, but Sammy was already spooked. He scrabbled over Emma’s arm in a panic, accidentally clawing at her wrist so that she squeaked and dropped the food bowl.

The bowl smashed on the tiles with a huge crash, and Sammy yowled in fright. He raced round the side of the crate, but the table was pushed up against the wall below the window and there was nowhere to go. Frantically, he clawed his way up the curtains, digging his tiny claws into the fabric.

Sammy hung there, swaying a little. He didn’t really understand what had happened. He’d been about to eat his food – he could smell it – and then suddenly everything was different and terrifying. Now he didn’t even know where he was, or how he’d got so high up.

The curtain fabric ripped a little under his weight, and he slid down a few centimetres with a frightened mew. He tried to claw his way back up again, but the shiny fabric was difficult to climb, and he slipped further down.

“Sammy, it’s all right…” Emma’s voice, low and soothing. And now he wasn’t falling any more. Her hands were around him, the way they were when she fed him sometimes. After struggling for a moment, he let her unhook his paws from the few last threads of the curtains, and sat tensely in her hands, ears back and fur fluffed up.

She lifted him down, still whispering gently, and slid him back into the crate. Sammy backed away from the door anxiously, but the strange person had gone now, he could see. It was just Emma. He knew her. She was safe.

“Emma! You’re still up!”

Emma jerked awake. Mum was standing in the living-room doorway, looking surprised.

“Sorry,” said Auntie Grace. “Emma was upset, I didn’t want to make her go to bed…”

“What happened?” Dad asked, just at the same time as Mum noticed Emma’s scratched wrist and swooped down to check it.

“Emma, you’ve hurt yourself! Oh no, was it Sammy?”

“He didn’t mean to.” Emma looked sleepily at Dad and Mum. “It was an accident. And, um, I broke his food bowl. Sorry… We swept it up.”

“What’s been going on?” Dad sat down on the arm of the sofa, and Mum came to sit next to Emma.

Emma sighed. She was so tired it was hard to explain. “I went to feed him, but he was scared of Auntie Grace.”

“It was my fault. I should have thought, of course, he’s never seen me before,” Auntie Grace put in. “And he’s a bit more nervous than most kittens. I frightened him and he jumped out of the crate and scratched Emma by accident.”

“And that made me drop his bowl, and he got even more scared and ran up the curtains.”

“Oh my goodness,” Mum muttered.

“I’m afraid he did tear them a bit,” Auntie Grace went on slowly. “But he’s back in the crate now and he’s calmed down. In fact, last time Emma checked he was asleep, wasn’t he?”

Emma nodded.

Mum leaned back against the sofa and let out a huge sigh. “I knew this was a mistake. We should never have brought him home. He was so upset when we took him away from the stables and his mum. I just don’t think it’s fair.”

“Mum!” Emma gasped.

“Oh, Emma. You have to see I’m right – just look at your wrist!”

Emma looked down at the three long red lines, and the little scratches that she’d got all over her hands when she was taking Sammy off the curtains. They were sore, but it hadn’t been Sammy’s fault. He was just scared – he hadn’t meant to hurt her.

Mum put her arm round Emma. “I know how hard you’ve tried with Sammy, but he might not be the right cat for us after all. He needs to go to a shelter, I think. Where they’ve got people who are used to looking after cats like him.”

“I’m not sure,” Dad said. “I know Sammy was difficult when we brought him home, but he is getting better.”

“Getting better!” Mum stared at him. “Emma’s covered in scratches!”

“I don’t think it’s that big a deal,” Auntie Grace said gently. “Even Whisky scratches me sometimes, if I go to pick him up and he just doesn’t feel like it.”

Mum sighed again. “I’m sorry, Emma, but he’s too unpredictable. I’m not sure he’s ever going to be really friendly. Maybe he needs a home more like the stables, where he doesn’t have to be around people if he doesn’t want to.”

“Mum, please don’t send him away!” Emma wailed. “I don’t want any other cat, only Sammy! He’ll be fine, he will. I’ll do anything to keep him.” She stared pleadingly at her mum, tears trickling down her cheeks. She couldn’t bear the thought of poor Sammy going to a shelter – somewhere else strange and new and frightening. He’d have to start all over again, and soon it would be too late to tame him. He’d be shy and wild forever.

“Look, just give us a few more weeks, love,” Dad suggested. “Of course today’s a bit of a setback, but we have to keep trying.”

“Two more weeks.” Mum looked from Emma to Dad and back again. “We have to be able to tell by then, don’t we?”

Dad nodded slowly. “All right. Emma?”

“I suppose so,” Emma whispered huskily. She was so upset her voice seemed to have disappeared. Two weeks! It was no time at all.

“What’s the matter?” Keira asked, as she led Jasmine past Emma and Sparky. “Is Sparky being a pain about getting tacked up again? You look, well, a bit sad…” she trailed off, not sure what to say. Emma looked like she might be about to cry.

“No.” Emma sniffed. “Actually Sparky’s been a total star. Maybe he can tell I just can’t deal with a tricksy pony today.”

“Oh no, what is it?” Keira swapped Jasmine’s reins to her other hand and gave Emma a hug. “Don’t cry!”

“I can’t help it.” Emma’s voice shook. “Mum says we might have to give Sammy to a shelter. She thinks we can’t cope with him.”

“But wasn’t it going really well?” Keira said, confused. “You showed me that photo your dad took of him eating off your fingers. He looked so happy.”

“He’s still jumpy, though,” Emma gulped. “Mum thinks he’s not going to adapt to living in a house. He got scared last night because my auntie was there and he scratched me. I didn’t mind – not much – but Mum was really upset about it. She says we’ve got two weeks to prove he can be a proper pet, or he has to go.” She could hardly get the last words out, she was crying so much.

Keira hugged her tighter, and even Sparky and Jasmine leaned in close, as if they wanted to make Emma feel better.

“Two weeks is a long time,” Keira said. “Honestly, it really is. And I saw how friendly and tame he was with you here. You nearly had me stroking him, Emma, and I’m scared of cats!”