A small tortoiseshell kitten walked slowly down the street, tired from lack of food and a night spent guarding her makeshift accommodation against intruders.
She stopped at the opening of an alleyway and listened. Hearing nothing she deemed it safe to enter and did so, with caution. She jumped up onto the rim of a dustbin, peered in and sniffed. Her sensitive nose caught the scent of something inviting and she leaned in further, trying to reach a polystyrene box that was home to a hamburger. Several times she swiped at it, but to no avail. She couldn't reach it.
She decided to lean a little closer and have another go. She wasn't worried about overbalancing, that was what she had a tail for, after all.
This time, however, her tail let her down and she fell head first into the rubbish, letting out a small squeak as she landed.
Now most people, indeed most cats for that matter, would be very upset to find themselves in a situation like this, going from the metaphorical dumping ground of life into a literal rubbish bin. This kitten, however, had one quality that was of great help to her in moments like these, and that quality was optimism. Her mother had told her to try to make the best of a bad situation and so that is what she did. She may have landed in a dustbin in a very ungraceful position, but hey, now she could reach the hamburger!
As it turned out it was a cheeseburger, or part of one, and that was even better, for she knew of the importance of calcium, especially for growing kittens.
Once she had polished off the food and given herself a proper wash, which is hard to do when you're sitting in a dustbin, she set about getting out. She found, to her relief, that this was almost as easy as falling in and so she leapt triumphantly from the bin. And landed directly in the path of a passing cat. A large, male, silver and black tabby cat, to be precise.
"Argh!" he screamed, startling her in turn. She turned to run, she had been told never to trust strange cats, but he moved quickly and put a paw out to stop her. She sat down in front of him and studied his face. He reminded her of someone.
She asked in a shaky voice, "What do you want?"
"Nothing," he replied, now fully recovered from the shock of an ordinary dustbin emitting a flying kitten, "except to know why such a small kitten is out roaming the streets by herself, and jumping out of dustbins at innocent passers-by."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I just finished lunch."
"Lunch? In a dustbin?"
"Yes, it was the first decent food I'd found since the day before yesterday."
"Oh, dear. You're a stray, I take it?"
"Yes. I was born in an alleyway not far from here. I was fine until last week. That's when my mother disappeared."
"Disappeared?" the cat asked in disbelief.
"Yes," said the kitten, "she never came back on the night of the full moon."
"Hmm. What does she look like?"
"She looks old. She's grey, a bit like you."
"Like me?"
"Yeah. She's got green eyes too."
"Lots of grey cats do."
"Oh. She's black too, black and grey."
"Okay. What's her name?"
"Grizabella."
"What?! I mean, pardon?"
"Grizabella."
The tabby sat down on the pavement with a thump, his pink nose pale from shock.
"Are you okay? You look scared."
He remained silent, not knowing what to say.
When he recovered he said, "I have some bad news for you, I'm afraid."
"What do you mean? Do know where she is?"
"Yes, kitten, I do."
"Well, where is she?"
The tabby looked the kitten in the eye, "Your mother was from the tribe I belong to, but she was an outcast. She came to our annual ball last week. She was accepted back into the tribe and she went to the Heaviside Layer."
"What's that? When's she coming back?"
The tabby sighed. It was clear he would have to explain everything.
"The Heaviside Layer is a kind of cat heaven. It is a great honour to be chosen. Only one cat can go each year and then they are re-born."
"You mean she's dead? She's not coming back?"
"Yes, that's right. I'm sorry."
"But she can't..." The kitten lay down and covered her face with her paws, mewing quietly. The cat licked her head and she looked up at him.
He swallowed and said, "There's something else I need to tell you. It's important."
The kitten looked at him questioningly and sat up.
He continued, "Grizabella was my mother too. She left my brother and I when we were six weeks old and went to explore the world beyond the city. That's why she was outcast. Anyway, I'm your brother."
Then it was the kitten's turn to stare into space. The tabby decided to take the lead and asked, "What's your name?"
The kitten shook her head, "Mummy told me not to talk to strangers. I can't tell you."
"It's a bit late for that now, kitten, besides I'm hardly a stranger, am I? We're related."
"I suppose, but..."
The cat had an idea. It was an old idea, but it always worked.
"How about I introduce myself first? Then we wouldn't be strangers anymore."
The kitten thought about it for a moment and realised she had nothing to lose, after all, if he wanted to hurt her he probably would have done so by now.
"Yes, that'd be okay."
"Good. Well in that case, I'm Munkustrap and I'm pleased to make your acquaintance..?"
"Feliciradeya."
"Oh my, that's a bit of a mouthful."
"So's yours. How do you say it? Monkey..?"
"Munkustrap," he said, a touch too loudly, before glancing around nervously and pausing to lick a paw. That was his father's private nickname for him and he'd be mortified if it became public.
"Okay," she said, not wanting to attempt it again in case she got it wrong, "You can call me Feli, it's easier."
"All right, then, I will. Now then, I've got a proposition for you."
"A propo- what?"
"Don't say what, say pardon," said Munkustrap.
"Sorry," said Feli, remembering how her mother used to say the same thing. You didn't get to be a Glamour Cat if you didn't speak properly. "Pardon?"
"That's better. I said "proposition". It means I'm going to make you an offer. I propose that you come home with me. I spend most of my time at the Junkyard with the tribe, or visiting Old Deuteronomy at the vicarage, and my humans are always complaining that they never see me, so I'm sure they'll welcome you. And I doubt Demeter would mind looking after you when I'm not there."
Feli thought this was all very sudden, but she knew an opportunity when she saw one and decided to grasp it firmly with all four paws. Before she agreed to go with Munkustrap, though, she had some questions she wanted answered.
"But who's Old Deuteronomy and Demeter? What's the Junkyard?"
Munkustrap took a deep breath and began to explain, "Old Deuteronomy is my father and the leader of the tribe. The Junkyard is where we all meet and where the ball takes place each year. And Demeter is my mate," he finished with a dreamy smile.
The kitten considered the offer, or proposition as he, her brother, Monkey-something-or-other, called it. It sounded much more inviting than spending the nights shivering in alleyways.
"When do I move in, then?"
Munkustrap laughed. "That's the spirit! Come on, we've got lots to do." He began walking down the road and Feli struggled to keep up with him.
"We have?"
"Of course we have. It's not every day I meet my long-lost baby sister -"
"Hey, who you calling a baby?"
"Sorry, I forgot to ask your age. How old are you?"
"Nearly four months."
"Right. Sorry," he said, thinking "give it another eight and you'll have a point."
"Anyway, as I was saying, first we'll go home and I'll introduce you to my humans, then tomorrow we can go and see Old Deuteronomy, then there's Demeter and the rest of my, no, our, family."
"You mean there's more cats like you?"
Munkustrap laughed again.
"Yes, Feli, many more. But they're not all like me."