My Two Tabby Kittens-a story by Mia

I once had two tabby kittens, but I had them years apart. Because of the first white and orange tabby cat, my Dad said I could never have a cat again.



Here is the story of the first tabby kitten, Moriah. This story takes place in our Glendale home. Everyone had moved out, but Sergio and I. I had finally convinced my Dad to let me have a kitten. She was such a sweet little kitten. She was the first kitten I had that actually new her name and recognized my voice. I loved her and had her live with me in my room-litter box and all. She stayed in there for some time until Dad smelled the litter box. Then she was banished to the outdoors. I would sneak her inside to sleep with me at night.

One night I called out to her in the darkness, I could hear her, but not see her. I found that she was stuck in the backyard neighbor's tree. I called for her to come down. Down she came, but I did not know why she was up there. I soon found out why. They had a pit bull. She came down to my calling her and found her death in the jaws of the pit bull. I was distraught, and inconsolable. This was my first view of how fragile life can be. In my distress, I attempted to jump the brick wall to save her. Luckily, my dad came out and stopped me. I could not stop crying. I blamed myself for her death, and the realization of life's fragility was shocking to me. Dad said I would never own a cat again. He did not want to see me cry over another animal.

I eventually got another kitten. It was a tiny little thing. This little gray tabby was evicted immediately upon arrival. I pleaded his case, but it was useless. Because I was sure I was going to change my dad's mind, I took the litter box outside to keep the kitty trained.
I did not name the kitty because I could not decide what to name him.

A week after I got him, I went to California to visit Abel, Delia, and Josiah. My Mom said I would have to figure out what to do with the cat because she wasn't going to care for it. She was scared of it. I asked Dad and he said he would. I took him outside and showed him where I put the water dish, food and litter scooper. I let him know he would not have to worry about the litter box. I would take care of it upon my return.

When I got back from L.A. I had a big surprise. Rodrigo was living in the back apartment. He told me, "I fed your cat some of my leftovers. He was really hungry. You should have had someone take care of it while you were gone." I told him I did, and it was Dad. I was mad, and thought Dad did it on purpose to get rid of my cat. I could not find it anywhere. It had run away. I asked my dad about it, and he said he put food in it's bowl, but it did not like it.

I went outside to investigate. Dad was giving it food to eat, but it was not something the cat would like, nor eat. He was feeding my kitten cat litter! What cat eats litter!! Poor kitten ran away to find food. I was not angry anymore because I was too busy laughing at Dad feeding the my kitten rocks.