Hey, this is the beginning of a story that has been nagging me to write it for some time now and I feel like it is time it be told. This story is actually based upon the true story of my little ginger kitten and all the hard ships the poor little guy had to go through. So if you wouldn't mind reading and reviewing that would be great and I will definetly return them! Enjoy!


The Beginning

"Get out of here!" roared the manager as he watched the bundle of fur fly through the frosty night air. A shrill scream rose from the cat's throat as it collided with a trash can that toppled over with a crash that resounded horribly in its ear fur. Claws scrabbling furiously on the ground, the poor creature fled into the night.

"And don't come back! Filthy creatures," he muttered storming back into the restaurant and slamming the alley door shut. The lock clicked in the handle and the night fell quiet once more.

Far away, the tabby cat was still fleeing, its mottled brown and white fur bristling along its back and its tail fluffed out to twice its size. The soft pads of the feline's feet stung as the pebbles on the cold street pierced them and her frayed claws felt as though the could fall of any moment. Still she kept on until her breath wheezed out of her throat and her shaking legs could support her no more giving away to collapse her body on the greasy grass along the edge of a human road. One of their stinking metal boxes rumbled by and the harsh light of their eyes fell upon the exhausted she-cat, but she didn't even try to get away. Hissing quietly at the strange contraption as it passed, she groomed her fur flat, tasting the disgusting taste of the road and then pushed herself to her paws.

Looking both ways along the road, the cat waited until a gap in the rush of strange human things swept by, still buffeting her with smelly air and exhaust, and then rushed across to the other side. Taking brief shelter under a scraggly bush, she scented the air for danger visibly relaxing when none made itself present. Pressing her belly close to the asphalt of the gas station, now closed for the night, the cat slinked over to the abandoned dumpster resting against the brick wall of the human home and in one graceful leap, landed on the lip of the metal container.

Without the slightest noise, the she-cat slithered to the floor and padded over to the corner where a disheveled pile of grass, leaves, and moss were gathered. Pushing her nose into the make-shift nest, the cat revealed four tiny, sleeping kittens; one black with white paws and chest, a second calico, the third completely white, and the fourth ginger. Curled together in a pile of fur, the kittens slept peacefully, their little chests rising and falling in rhythm with one another. The she-cat looked in on them lovingly and settled herself around the tiny scraps of fur, flicking her tail to cover them once more with leaves.

Tucking her pink nose under her paw, the cat sighed. How much longer could she support these four little kittens before it became too late?