Holly Webb - The Homeless Kitten

“It was Pixie!” Lily breathed, remembering her open bedroom window. “It was Pixie, not Stanley! Hugo was barking at Pixie!” And that meant Stanley didn’t need to go…

“Mum, do you think…?” Lily put her hand on Mum’s arm, trying to get her to listen, but Mum was looking at Anna and not paying attention.

“She was in here, then. Oh dear…” Anna looked around the kitchen. “I really hope she didn’t break anything.”

Dad laughed. “Actually, I think she broke a mug but don’t worry, Anna. That’s about the best news you could have given us. We came down last night because Hugo was barking his head off to find the kitchen in a bit of a mess and Hugo with a scratch on his nose. No, no, it’s OK!” he added, seeing Anna put a hand up to her mouth. “You see, we thought it was Stanley who’d done it. We were going to take him to the animal shelter this morning and now we don’t have to!”

“Pixie scratched Hugo?” Anna looked down at Hugo guiltily. “Poor Hugo. She’s a horror, she really is.”

“But you love her to bits,” Mum said, laughing.

“I’d better start locking the cat flap at night.” Anna sighed.

“Mum.” Lily pulled at her sleeve. “Mum, listen, please, it’s important. You need to call the shelter.”

Mum gave her a hug. “It’s OK, Lily, you don’t need to tell me. We’ll call them right now and let them know we don’t need to bring Stanley in after all.”

“I should have listened when you said that Hugo wouldn’t have been barking like that at Stanley,” Dad said, shaking his head. “I mean just look at them.”

Everyone looked down under the table. Stanley, worn out from his game, was collapsed over Hugo’s enormous paws. As they stared at him, he opened one eye lazily, just a slit of green peering up at them all.

“Please…” Lily whispered. “Couldn’t we keep him? I know we had Hugo first but Hugo loves him, too.”

“Can we?” Carly put in. “It would make Hugo sad if he had to go,” she admitted. “I think Stanley should stay.”

“Yes! Oh, Carly, thank you!” Lily hugged her sister tight.

Mum smiled. “I’d better go and ring the shelter, hadn’t I?”

“What are you going to say to them?” Lily asked anxiously.

“I’m going to ask them to take his photo off the website – he’s already got a home.”

Lily threw her arms round her mum and then her dad and even Anna – she wanted to hug everyone.

Then she crouched down beside Stanley and Hugo. “You’re staying,” she said, stroking the fluffy white fur on Stanley’s tummy. You’re our kitten now!”

Stanley opened the other eye and stretched, rolling over on to his back and padding his front paws against Hugo’s nose. Hugo snorted, shifted his head and gently licked the little kitten.

Stanley uncurled himself from the big dog and stood up, stretching again and arching his back as he yawned. He padded deliberately over to Lily, and rubbed the side of his head lovingly up and down her shorts. He climbed on to her knees and stood up, nudging her chin with the top of his head and purring loudly. Then he jumped down and touched noses with Hugo.

“They’re perfect,” Lily whispered, crouching down to stroke Hugo. “They belong together, here with us.”

“Shall we head down to the field now?” Amelie suggested. “Then we can give Monty a really good run.” She laughed. “Look, he heard me!”

Monty’s soft black ears had suddenly pricked up and he was staring hopefully at Amelie. He was only a puppy but he already had long Labrador legs and he loved to run.

Her brother checked the time on his phone. “Yeah, OK, but not for too long. We’ve already been out twenty minutes and he’s only supposed to walk for about twenty-five.”

Amelie sighed. “I know the leaflet said that but look at him, Josh! He’s desperate! He wants a proper run, don’t you, Monty?”

The little black Labrador frisked round her feet with an excited bark. “It’s just not fair, is it? You love walks so much and so do we!”

Amelie crouched down to rub his head and run his ears through her fingers. His ears were so silky, and she loved the way he closed his eyes and stuck his nose in the air every time she did it.

“Well, it won’t be that long till he can go on really big walks,” Josh said and then grinned. “He’s already five months old – so that’s only another seven months to go!”

Amelie rolled her eyes. Josh thought he was so funny sometimes – she and Mum reckoned it was a teenage boy thing. “Come on, Josh, pleeease? If we go to the field then we can take the alley and go the quick way home.”

When they’d first got Monty, three months earlier, the breeder had given them a leaflet of tips on how to look after a Labrador puppy properly. She’d explained that Monty couldn’t go out for walks at all till he’d had his vaccinations. And even then, they’d have to be careful not to overwalk him while he was still under a year. The information leaflet suggested a five-minute rule – only five minutes of proper exercise for every month of Monty’s age, so as not to injure his growing legs.

Amelie knew it was the right thing to do but she still didn’t like it. Their walks seemed to have hardly got going before they had to turn round again.

“I suppose…” Josh agreed. “At least he’ll be nice and hungry for his dinner. Come on then, Monty! Let’s go to the field!”

Monty pranced along happily. He loved going out in the afternoons with Amelie and Josh. In the morning he went out with their dad, who did too much stopping to chat to people while he walked round the lake. Amelie and Josh raced about and threw sticks, and they usually brought toys for him to chase. He pulled eagerly at his lead, making for the gate out to the field.

“Heel, Monty,” Amelie said, pulling him back gently. She and Josh had been taking Monty to puppy training classes, and they’d been told not to let him pull when they were walking to heel.

Monty dropped back obediently and Josh fumbled a treat out of his pocket. “Good dog!”

“You wouldn’t think he’d only been going to training for three weeks, would you?” Amelie said proudly, as she opened the gate.

Josh grinned. “He’s a greedy pig. He’ll do anything for those treats.”

“Yes, but some dogs never learn to do things like that. I mean, what about Daisy? Grandad can’t ever get her to sit and stay, and she only walks to heel when she feels like it. Think about last week!”

“Yeah…” Josh shook his head, remembering. Grandad had come with them on a walk to the park with Daisy, his little dachsund. They’d walked past a girl eating a biscuit and Daisy had nibbled it right out of her hand. Her mum had been really cross, even though Grandad had said sorry loads of times. He had felt awful about it but Daisy hadn’t been bothered at all…

“I reckon that’s because she’s a dachshund, though,” Josh pointed out. “They’re not very easy to train. Labradors like Monty are good at this sort of thing. I mean, you don’t ever get dachshund Guide Dogs, do you?”