Eirwen pt 1

She picked her way along the street. The white stuff had been falling for quite a while. It was quite deep now, almost to her shoulder. She needed to find a warm dry place where she could be safe. She hated the white stuff. It made her fur wet and it was cold on her paws. She stopped. What was that? The high-pitched keening cry came again. Her ears told her where the sound had come from. She approached with cauthion.

A white covered lump moved and she froze. She picked her way toward the white lump. A small human, which was unusual. She sat there, white flakes dropping down onto her gray and white fur. A small human was rarely on its own. She looked around. Small humans usually had large humans with them. There was nothing visible in the swirling white flakes.

She approached the mewling youngster and touched her nose to it. It was cold. Its feeble movement told her it would not survive in the white. What happened to the big humans that should be around? She shivered as the wind picked up and swirled the white stuff more. This was not a warm dry place of safety. Not for her, not for the kit. She was certain it was a human kit.

She moved around it and moved a bit further on. It should be here abouts. Yes! There it was! The promise of shelter. It was a huge box where humans often threw food. She looked back at the kit. She moved back to it and grasped its covering with her teeth. Then she began the laborious work of getting it to the shelter.

She nudged it. It cried out. She tugged it into the shelter formed by the open box top. The white stuff would blow into the shelter. But she was certain she would be warmer if the wind wasn’t blowing the stuff right on her. She extended delicate paw and stepped onto the crying human. She curled up and began purring. The kit went quiet. It was still warm and she would be warm on top of it. This was good. She fell asleep to the sound of her own purring.
It wasn’t that long before she heard noises.

“This way,” human voices. She looked out from her shelter. A large human was looking around with one of the suns they could command. What a handy thing to be able to control. The sun was warm. She rather thought the tiny one in the human’s hand would be warmer than the box. What was the human doing?
Oh, it was following the tracks she’d made when she’d dragged the kit to her sheltering place. That was not so good. Humans would throw things at her and make her move one. It wasn’t fair. She’d found the shelter unoccupied. They would make her move out and then not take it for themselves. Humans were like that.

“What have we here?” The human’s large hand came down on her before she could even think of moving. That was the problem with being cold. It made you slow. The next thing she knew, it deposited her into a bag. She yowled in protest. “Found little Sadie!” The human must be really close, still. She couldn’t see in the dark bag.

The bag swayed. Was the human holding it? She should have left the kitten. She knew she wouldn’t have. A loud whump sounded. She was in one of the killer boxes humans used to chase poor cats on the street. Was she going to die?

“Not the hero, here.” The human who had captured her had a deep rumbling voice. Suddenly he pulled her out of the bag. “This little Fuzzball is the hero. Found tracks where she’d dragged little Sadie out of the worst of the weather. Then she cuddled up with the baby. Kept her warm.”

Then she was in a cage. At least it was a warm, dry cage. She had food and not-stiff water. That was nice.

he sniffed both and then ate and drank. A few minutes after she ate, the human took out of the cage.
“She’s adorable.” A second human was present. “She seems healthy, but I’ll give her a good going over to be sure.” The next few minutes was humiliating. The human poked with sharp things and peered into her ears, eyes, nose and mouth. She found herself in a box. “Nine pounds, that’s good. She’s in good shape for a stray. Must have been able to fend for herself well enough.”

“Will she go up for adoption?”

“No.” The big human rumbled. “She’s got a home. I’m taking her.”

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About pebblepup

I am not one who is comfortable talking about myself but here goes. I enjoy writing, family history, and reading. I decided to do this blog because I wanted to try something new. I decided to make it a weekly blog because I wasn't sure that I could keep up with a daily one, and monthly seemed like I was writing a magazine. I think I did ok with my choices. You'll notice that there are not a lot of graphics on my site. That's because there are graphics plastered everywhere on the Internet and those sites sometimes take forever to load. This blog is a place where you can kick back, relax and be ready to be amused. At least I hope I willbamuse you. This blog is on a variety of subjects from my ficitional cat agency, the FFL, which is monthly, to instructional blogs to editorials, which are my opinions only. I admit that I don't know everything and could be wrong -- I frequently am. Now, stop reading about me and read what I have to say!