The dog’s yelps of pain were music to my baby ears. She backed off and sat there staring and huffing. The stench of her breath made me even angrier. I sent her a telepathic message. ‘Leave me alone, or I’ll come and beat you up when I’m big.’
She whined, and seemed to be trying to explain something to me, but I refused to listen. Traumatised and alone, I focused on an awesome thought that shone into me like a beam of light. My life was worth fighting for, and I was here in this world for a reason.
I remained in the pipe for a long time after the dog had gone. The warm afternoon sunshine and the hum of bees in the clover flowers made me drowsy. When I awoke from a snooze, my guts ached with hunger. I longed for the sweet taste of Jessica’s milk, and wanted her to be there, washing me and purring.
I tried to meow, but no sound would come. I tried to go out and search for food, but my legs were weak. My strength had gone. I was hungry, lost and all alone.
My baby teeth weren’t strong enough to eat ladybirds and slugs. As twilight came, I watched a moth crawl out of the grass and figured it might be something soft for me to eat. It glanced at me with contemptuous orange eyes and flew away on wings that purred like a cat.
The moon was rising, changing from a rosy pink to a sharp white gold. Now very weak, I just lay there watching the night sky. My body was pretty useless, but in my mind something was happening, a light brighter than the moon was waking me up, making me remember.
Solomon had told me cats had lived on Earth for thousands of years. He had told me about an invisible power called love.
So I listened. I gazed at the moon and let it soak into my lonely soul. I saw a light, greater and brighter than the moon, and with energy fizzling around it. I sat up, my hunger forgotten, my loneliness unimportant now as I waited, spellbound, for something to happen.
But what came padding towards me out of the light was a complete surprise.
It was a lion.
A White Lion with a mane that rippled like water. The luminous fur seemed charged with electricity, and barbs of dazzling light pulsed around its edges. The moths and creatures of the night vanished into the stillness. No twigs crackled, no grass rustled, no owls hooted, no rain pattered. Even the wind in the corn was silent, becalmed by this phantom creature from the spirit world.
I thought I was going to die. Or was I dreaming?
When the Lion’s eyes found me, I was hypnotised by their power. I managed to stand up. I walked towards him with my tail up, and lay down in the cocoon of light between his mighty paws, and he was SERIOUSLY SOFT.
We purred together, a tiny kitten who might have been dying, and a White Lion who had come from the spirit world– for ME!
I didn’t know what would happen next, or what I would do when morning came. I gave the last sparks of my energy to listening. Intense listening.
The eyes of the great White Lion burned with a secret he would tell me, if only I had the patience and faith to listen. A long time passed, and at last the words came, drifting out of him like magic seeds from a dandelion clock.
Words I would remember for ever.
Chapter Two
LEROY MCARTHUR’S CAT
An abandoned kitten doesn’t have rights. Humans can make terrible decisions about where and with whom it will live.
There’d been a row between the young teacher, Angie, and Leroy’s mum, Janine.
‘Findings are not keepings, Leroy.’
Angie was small for a human, and she reminded me of a squirrel as she stood there all bushy with anger.
‘They are for the likes of us,’ Janine hissed. ‘We don’t have money in the bank. I have to watch every penny. Leroy can’t have nothing he wants … nothing.’
‘So how can you afford to feed a cat?’ demanded Angie.
‘Cats don’t need much,’ declared Janine. ‘We had cats when I was a child and they lived on scraps.’
SCRAPS! I didn’t like the sound of that. It didn’t fit with my plan to grow into the biggest, fattest, most independent cat.
‘This is a very young kitten,’ Angie said. ‘He’s lost his mother and his home, and he’s weak. He needs feeding up with proper kitty milk … you get it in a tin from the pet shop, and mix it up… it’s specially formulated for weaning kittens.’
Janine snorted.‘Well, I can’t afford fancy stuff like that … good old cow’s milk will have to do.’
‘I’ll be happy to get you a tin of kitty milk … as a gift,’ Angie said. ‘And I’ll get you some sachets of proper kitten food. You can have it on me.’
Janine puffed herself up.‘No thanks. We don’t need charity.’
‘It’s not charity. I’m just concerned for this little kitten’s well-being.’
‘And I’m not, I suppose? I don’t want no bloody handouts from the likes of you. You don’t know NOTHING about how we have to live.’ Janine edged closer, her shoulders squared for attack, her face drained and joyless. ‘I want my Leroy to have the same as his friends.’
‘I ain’t got no friends, Mum,’ Leroy piped up.
‘Be quiet.’