It was the most adorable stray. It had been scratched across its back, so its fur was patchy and matted. Its fur was a dirty shade of brown, almost yellow and was a skinny thing.
Tibbles, she christened him.
“Here Tibbles,” she said squeaking softly. The cat hissed and took a swipe at her from under the car.
“Woah!” she shuffled backwards nearly falling over.
She was crouched on someone else’s drive where Tibbles had hidden away. She smirked knowing what was about to happen.
“Okay, I’ll go.” She got up, making a show of walking away as if the cat could see.
“Meow, meow, meow,” came the pathetic cry from behind her.
Everyday they went through this, with Tibbles running behind until Sarah tried to pick him up he’d hiss and run away.
“Ah and our time is up,” she called out as she reached her house. Tibbles hopped onto her fence, streaming through the posts.
“Mew!” He became whinier whenever she left. However today when she opened her front door Tibbles cried again and tried to follow her through.
“No, no!” her actions were instant and without thought as she pushed the cat back outside.
He meowed pitifully as the door was shut on him.
She felt awful. Tibbles was quaint and needed someone to feed him. And he had chosen her. And in a cat’s world that was the biggest compliment. The feeling grew worse as the heavens opened up and rained streamed down her windows.
He was the most adorable stray.
Her mind made up, the next day, she armed herself with a net and a packet of ham.
“Here Tibbles-Tibbles. Here Tibbles-Tibbles,” she called up and down the road.
She walked once down the street and then up, but Tibbles was nowhere to be seen. Down trodden, she returned home.
Through her front windows she could see all the way through to her kitchen. Where, on the dining table, Tibbles sat as if saying, ‘what took you so long?’
He was the most adorable pet.