something totally random hit me as i went to go and check on my siblings (that i am babysitting right now) and they are watching the barbie movie 'BARBIE AND THE TWELVE DANCING PRINCESSES' and when i walked by to get some lotion for the strange acne that is growing on my elbow, i noticed that there was a little kitten that looked just like skimbleshanks, if he were to be a girl wearing a pink bow. so i asked my little sister ((the one i wrote the rap battle with) what its name was and i wrote this in the time it took me to use the real flushing biffie. exciting isnt it to use wifi and electricity as well as running water after a week long camp called SOAR that was so freaking awesome that if i dont shut up soon you will never get to read and review the story. with love ~twilla
I sat thinking about my life, remembering what it was like before I found the jellicle cats. I remember my first mate, Lucille, and I remember having a kitten with her. Since Lucille was an orange tabby like me, and she lived on the trains, we hit it off right away, being best of friends and then realizing that we could never have a real life without each other. After giving birth to our kitten, Twyla, Lucille was hit by a train. Still being a reasonably young tom, I decided to keep my life on the train and teach my kitten.
Twyla was named after my mom, who had a jellicle background in her. She had left shortly after Old Deuteronomy had left, and sought out a new life as she didn't fancy having a new leader. My mother was a good one though, who always had something for me to eat if I was hungry out on the streets, or when we found a suitable home for a while she would stay up extra late to watch me. Though Macavity didn't exist then, and if he did he was just a wee little lad, there were still dangers out on the streets.
Though I loved how my mom cared for me, she was also the best storyteller in the world. If you traced back my roots it would reach into Scotland, and we were both very patriotic about it. When I was quite young, she let me have a sip of her scotch if she had found some to relax with. But only a sip, as I was still quite young.
With my new little kitten I was going to raise and my life on the trains, things couldn't get better, but like all stereotypes, things just got worse. We were just outside of some random junkyard when Twyla got sick, and so I ran her into the junkyard to see if there was anywhere we could stay the night, as staying at the train station would mean that we might as well just turn ourselves in to the pound. In this junkyard, I met a lovely queen named Jennyanydots, who informed me that my daughter just had a little cold.
Meeting Jenny was maybe the second best thing that had happened to me. She was single, and almost as old as me, and she was okay with the fact that I had mated rather early, though I guess she might have scoffed at it behind my back. Every day I woke up and went to her den to check on Twyla, and she would have a cup of tea for me, and a drop of brandy in it if I was lucky.
This all had happened about when Munkustrap and Tugger were bothered by Macavity's wrongdoings that happened more frequently. He would spill the kittens' milk that Jenny had set out, or he would just altogether give them quite the scare. Needless to say, Twyla still wasn't well so she very rarely got to see the rest of the junkyard and its inhabitants.
The worst day of my life must have been when Jenny told me and my fragile heart that Twyla was very sick, and needed to go to the pound, as they would take care of her and feed her. She wasn't getting the right nutrients and her frame had gone down from the plump shape she had taken on, to something that resembled a stick cat. Twyla's happy demeanor also became cold and untouched, as if she was an alien.
I had to agree, something was wrong with my little baby, but I wanted the best for her, so with the help of some of the stronger toms in the junkyard at the time, like my newfound friend Gus, we took my little girl to the station where someone would find her hopefully, and either take her in or find the pound. Last I have heard of my little girl is that she was off in some remote castle with twelve dancing princesses and an evil head of the castle, as their dad was very sick. Hopefully she is still very well, as I had also passed that castle on my less frequent trips on the train to see her bounce along the brick walls around the palace, trying to say hello.
Knowing that my little girl is safe is great, but knowing that I know have a steady home and mate with Jenny, I am quite happy. She loves me as much as I love her, and to put it down in the best way possible, I couldn't be happy. Happy is what happens when all your dreams come true and I had to say that all of my dreams come true. With Jenny I had a few sons, and I only remember their names when I find they have caused some sort of trouble because now they are old enough to go out and mate with someone.
As well as that, I can tell all the little kittens embarrassing stories about Jenny, Munkustrap and Tugger, and if I didn't so often get in trouble for it I would tell them funny stories about Macavity. But of course, those ones are for the older children, as there is much innuendo and outendo.
Well, all the guides and all the porters are searching for me, so I start moving again, in order to catch the train once again, knowing that my life is complete and there might be a few things more that I would like to do, like maybe go bungee jumping or something with my human owner that I had attached myself to. She likes to do extreme sports, and she took me rock climbing once. Jumping on board, I almost immediately start my rounds and search for my tea with the scotch in it.