Cat in a bag

He hadn’t been around for days now and Mrs Claus was getting worried. He was the smallest of the litter, although the feistiest one and,truth be told, he was her favourite.

But it was three days now that he had not shown up, not even during feeding times. She had asked his mother and brothers, but would only get a vague reply from his sister. She was probably just asking for more food.

She looked everywhere for him. In the toy factory, in the elves’ dorms, in the sleigh, in the kitchen, in the cupboards, in the sweet shops, everywhere. He was nowhere to be seen. And the worse part was that no-one else had seen him either.

Mrs Claus decided she had to call for reinforcements.

So she told Santa that her favourite kitten had gone missing.

“What if he’s been catnapped? He was the cutest of the lot,” she said in despair.

“No, no, he is around here somewhere,” Santa tried to reassure her.

They called out his name, rang bells and food plates, but nothing.

They even asked the reindeer, but to no avail.

As snow began to fall heavier outside, Mrs Santa became all the more worried that he was somewhere alone and cold.

But then, just as it happens with all things you look too hard for and then you find them when you stop searching – the little cat appeared on its own.

It was Santa who first spotted him when he saw his toy bag juddering on the sleigh. He knew it was not any of the toy robots, because they had no batteries installed. As he raised the opening of the bag slightly to peek inside, he saw two bright eyes staring back at him. They were accompanied by a faint “meow”. One that Mrs Claus heard, however, and rushed over just in time to see the little lion walk merrily out of the bag, unaware of all the commotion he had caused.

Sometimes it’s the smallest things that cause your heart to skip a few beats. It is only then that  you acknowledge their importance.

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Something special within the season

©MCD

He realised something was happening when the bright seasonal decorations began to appear, first on the main door, then the lights on the window. Suddenly the night appeared to light up. There was colour pouring out of every corner of the building.

The snow made it evident winter had come. But that too was part of the season. You had to feel it was winter.

He didn’t care it was this cold. He was used to it anyway. It was freezing when he arrived a year ago. One year had already past. And now he was ready to celebrate a birthday. One that happened to coincide with the most wonderful time of the year.

He disliked the fact that people bypassed his own celebrations and he had to deal with the fact that every one was celebrating these days. He wanted to feel special. To have a day devoted to him. To have a day that was his very own.

Those who cared would make it so.

After all that is what family and friends are for.

Even if you are simply a kitten.

You still deserve to have something unique, especially for you.

The tenant of the clock

©J Hardy Carroll

It was a present from the global travels of a great uncle. It was a gift passed down each generation. It was one that carried the history of its owners with it.

It was finely crafted and had an essence of another era. It stood out in every home it was placed. But that was its point after all: to remind you that you should stand out of the crowd.

One night in its new location, a faint scratching woke everyone up. It wasn’t the clock ticking.

It was something hiding inside the clock-tower: a tiny kitten seeking a home.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers