Sammy The Shy Kitten

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Emma looked around hopefully for the cats as she went over to find Liz, but none of them seemed to be around. She crouched down and peeped behind the tulips in the little flowerbed in front of the office. The ginger cat (one of the ginger cats, anyway) practically lived in the flowerbed, and sometimes he’d let her stroke him. Sure enough, there he was, curled up tightly into a stripy ball. He opened one yellow-green eye and glared at her. He obviously didn’t want to be petted.

Emma sighed and put her head round the office door.

“Hi, Liz. Mum dropped me off a bit early so I could say hello to the ponies. I wanted to see if I could stroke Tiggy, too, but I can’t find her.”

Tiggy was Emma’s favourite of the stable cats – she was black and had longer fur than the others, with a thick bushy tail. She spent a lot of time lying in the sun and grooming, cleaning bits of hay out of her pretty fur.

Liz had looked up, smiling, when she first spotted Emma, but now her smile faded. “I haven’t actually seen her for a couple of days. I’m starting to get a bit worried. I know the cats aren’t really pets and they wander around all over the place, but usually Tiggy’s the friendliest of them all. She doesn’t disappear like Susie and Ginger, and she’s almost always in the yard.”

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