A tiny kitten lay at the side of a busy road on the outskirts of London, mewing pitifully. No one noticed the little scrap of reddish-brown fur, and even if they had they chose to ignore the distressed squeaks and walk on by. It's a cruel world, but that was how the kitten spent the first night of her life, lying unwanted in the gutter.
Her mother had abandoned her there just a few hours before, when she was the only kitten in her litter to be born alive. Her eyes still closed as newborn kitten's are. But perhaps some part of her, the same bit that had made her survive her struggle into the world, pulled her through that first terrible night. Having got this far, the kitten was not going to give up now.
By about 3:00am the traffic had lulled enough for the kitten to drag herself blindly up onto the pavement and find her way to a dark alley where she fell into an exhausted sleep behind some dustbins. The kitten would have died there without any food if it had not been for the events that took place the next morning.
By chance, a passing child found the tiny creature, small enough to fit into her coat pocket. Snuggled in Stacie's anorak, the kitten was safe at last. She could have had a good home with Stacie, whose family were all cat lovers, but sadly this was not what fate had in store for her.
Flame remembered little of the five months she spent with Stacie and her family. But in this time she grew from a tiny bundle of reddish-brown fur to a pretty queen kitten, with a white face and tummy, although it was the red fur that earned the name the family gave her. She was bottle fed for the first few months, but quickly moved on to solid food. Her eyes opened sooner than most kittens too, as if eager to explore the world around her. As with all kittens her eyes were blue at first but soon changed to a dark orange like that of a flickering fire.
But then one terrible day, Stacie's father lost his job; her family had to move to a much smaller flat, which didn't allow pets. Flame was taken to the animal shelter for re-homing. Sadly the shelter was only small and couldn't afford to care for unwanted pets, they were put up for adoption for two weeks, and if nobody took them in that time, they were put down.
During this time Flame understood little of what was going on, she was still only young. But when a week had gone by she realised that Stacie wasn't coming back for her. By the end of the second week she was scared, she had seen both dogs and cats being taken into a room from which they never returned, she didn't fully understand what happened in the room, but she had a sure feeling of danger.
Then it happened, a human came to the cage where Flame had been housed and lifted her out by the scruff of her neck. She wriggled and squirmed, trying to get away from the human, who smelt horribly. The unknown smell, to Flame meant danger, later she would know it as the scent of death!
Flame was overcome with fear, she didn't know what was happening to her but as they headed towards that room, she knew she wasn't going to come out again. In a last desperate attempt she reached out a claw in her own defence, catching it across the human's wrist. It was not a particularly painful scratch but it was enough to make the human drop her in surprise!
Flame twisted in the air and landed on her feet, she didn't wait to see if anyone was coming after her, as soon as all four paws had touched the ground she was away, running for her life.
Flame didn't stop until she could run no more, she flopped, exhausted, under a parked car to rest. Presently, feeling better, Flame ventured out from under the car to see where she was and immediately recognised it. She was back in the road where she had lived with Stacie and her family! Overjoyed, she hurried to the house heading for the back door and her cat-flap. But the cat-flap was gone and a big dog barked from behind the door! Frightened, Flame turned tail and ran back to the parked car.
As soon as she got there, she realised that there was something wrong, there was another cat nearby. Then there was a loud hiss and she briefly glimpsed him, on top of a dustbin. Then before Flame knew what was happening he had thrown himself off the bin, yowling and spitting!
Flame's fur stood on end and with a scream she dashed back under the car where she stood cowering behind one wheel. The cat, a ginger tom, stopped and watched her go, when he was satisfied that she wasn't going to try attacking him, he approached her, fur bristling, tail raised.
"Come out where I can see you." he hissed, terrified, Flame crept out into the sunlight, ears down. As soon as he saw her, the tom relaxed, and then started to laugh! Confused, Flame forgot to be afraid, "Well I don't see what's so funny!" The tom continued to laugh for a minute before composing himself. "To think that I thought you were going to be a threat to my territory," he said between sniggers, "how old are you? A week?"
"Actually I'm five months and two weeks, thank you very much!" said Flame indignantly "Not that it's any business of yours anyway."
"Well on the contrary it is my business, because you're in my territory."
"The last time I was here it wasn't."
"Well, that's because I only got here yesterday."
"Then how come I can't smell your scent round here? All I can smell is that horrible dog who's living in my house!"
"You're not afraid of that stupid brute are you?" scoffed the tom, glad to get the subject away from the fact that he had only arrived two minutes before she had!
"No, he just made me jump a bit, that's all." Said Flame, "What's your name anyhow?"
"Macavity, what's yours?"
"Flame."
"That's a silly name."
"No sillier than yours."
"Oh yeah, well where did your name come from?"
"It's what my old humans always called me."
"Oh, well if we're going by that then you'd better call me Marmalade."
"You mean you have two names?"
"Where have you been? All cats have two names, three actually."
"What?"
"Have you never heard the poem?"
"What poem?"
"Oh, don't make me recite it."
"Recite what?"
"It was the only thing that I ever liked about that flea-ridden tribe, they had all these stupid rules, but they explained one piece of cat history that's important to knowing who we are. It was a really dumb poem though, but I thought all cats knew it."
"Well not me, and what tribe?"
"Never mind them, that was months ago. I've been getting along just fine on my own now for ages."
"So how does this poem go and what's all this cat history?"
"It's been going on for thousands of years," Macavity explained, "right back to the ancient Egyptians."
"Ancient what?"
"Oh never mind, the point is it's really old, but all cats have three names, there's a poem that was made up to explain it years and years ago." He started to recite something that he had obviously learned by heart in a low whispering voice,
"The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter, it isn't just one of your holiday games,
You may think at first, I'm as mad as a hatter ("you've got that right," thought Flame, "he's cracked!"), when I tell you that cats must have three different names……"
NOTE: I started this story back in August 2003 and didn't finish it until late 2004/early 2005 (not sure of the exact date). It was my first multi-chapter fic. I am posting the first few chapters and will post the rest when I can. Reviews and constructive criticism welcome, though I'm unlikely to make any changes to the text as I wrote it so long ago. I'm not claiming it's any good, enjoy!
CHRACTER AGES: When I mention the age of a cat in this fic, the best thing to do is multiply it by seven to get an approximate age for the charcter's level of maturity - hope that makes sense!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Cats or it's characters. All rights to Cats belong to Andrew Lloyd Webber and The Really Useful Group, this story was created purely for fun by a fan.