I hate myself for starting another story, when I had a perfectly good one already. Still, an author must make sacrifices, I suppose. XP

This story is my own little form of a 'Chicken Soup' book, and I have a preposition for you all.


This story is for Frosty, Mischief, C.J, and their brother and sister, who were taken away from the ones who loved them. Regards to Smokey, the mother of these five.

This story is also for Cheetah, her kits, and dear Smokey, who now walk in StarClan

Pearla


The Wild One

When a loved one is ready to take off, you should let him spread his wings -Pearla

When Sunny, our beloved family cat, had three kittens that stormy night, I was overjoyed. I was seven, and my brother, Andrew, was twelve. I remember that we had to stay up all night to help her through the birth, but I was so tired I fell asleep. When I woke up, there were these three adorable kittens nuzzling into Sunny!

The first one was brown and white, and was by far the cutest. I called her Princess, after my old cat that died a long time ago. She was the only girl.

The next one was the smallest, and he was gray. He fit right into the palm of my hand! My brother named him Smokey, and he blinked at us with big blue eyes.

The last one, and he was by far my favorite, was a bright, bright orange male that looked like his father, Jasper. I wanted to call him Rusty, because somehow, that name fit perfectly.

Sunny didn't have enough milk to feed them all, so we had to bottle-feed them for a long time. Smokey, who was the weakest and smallest, couldn't survive on milk other than his mother's and died. When Rusty saw his brother dead next to him he nudged him and let out a pitiful mew. He looked at me with sad blue eyes, but a determination was in them as well.

When Rusty was growing up, he was always a little more…wild than his sister, who preferred the indoors. Rusty was always outside, playing with leaves, pretending to leap on mice, and his eyes were slowly turning green. He looked like a little tiger the way he acted!

At first, I was worried he would run away, or get hurt by these big cats I see living in the forest next to our house. They were wild strays, my mother said, and once I saw this big brown one that scared me. I shooed him away.

I got Rusty more toys to play with, just so he would be happy. I would often see him staring out into the forest, and I would start crying because he looked so sad. Nothing I did made him happy. Soon, he stopped eating cat-food, and would sleep in the garden. My mother told me he would never leave, though, since we 'cared for him since he was a newborn kitten'.

She was wrong.

I was watching Rusty from behind the window, when he saw a mouse. His ears pricking up, he got into a pouncing position. He seemed to hesitate, and then I raced out and started screaming for him not to go. He and I locked eyes in a moment I will never forget. Auburn eyes against green eyes, and both eyes were pleading with each other. I finally realized what Rusty wanted to do. He wanted to become a wild cat, like those others in the forest. He wanted to catch mice all the time, and live like them, and not be a house cat anymore.

I decided to let him go.

I stepped back, and he was running gone. I cried, sure, and I know Princess was upset, too, but somehow, my heart was telling me that my little Rusty would do better in the wild. He never seemed like much of a pet.

At least a year later, I was doing my homework near the window. It was then Princess let out an excited mew and jumped onto the window sill, squeezing out to the garden. I looked up, expecting to see the neighbor's cat, Smudge, or that little yappy chiwawa that had moved in. Instead, I saw in the distance, a battle-scarred orange cat, with bright green eyes. He had another cat with him, a gray one, and he looked proud and strong, even though he looked a bit skinny.

I knew, at that moment, that Rusty had returned home one last time, to say good-bye.

-Michelle Smith, 8 (my made-up-character)

Re-written by PearlaH.Sweden