Kidnapped Kitten

The Thunder Roars

I met Fudge Round - named after her chocolate striped coat - when she was a meager seven weeks. I was 14, babysitting for a couple who lived in a trailer park that didn't allow pets. Somehow they had three dogs and two kittens. Fudge Round's sister Boon, sported an all black coat. Boon enjoyed playing with the dogs, and running around aimlessly while Fudge Round was a lot more timid and standoffish.

I was spending the night on this particularly hot and humid evening. It was around 10 p.m. and a storm was rolling in fast. The entire house was dark as I was trying hard to keep my eyes open while laying back on the couch. Everyone was surely already sleeping.

I have always had a horrifying fear of thunderstorms. As soon as the first roar erupted directly above me, my body began to shake. Lightning made it feel like it was the middle of the day, which was terrifying. Before I had time to grab my phone to check the weather radar, Fudge Round jumped up on my chest, shivering in fear.

The storm worsened. The trees bent over in the midst of 60 mph wind gusts, the hail knocked abruptly on the window next to us, the lightning repeatedly illuminated the night, the thunder kept on roaring, and the whole shabang itself had me laying there with rocks in my stomach, cluthing my eyes shut while my heart raced in sync with the helpless, equally terrified kitten that whimpered into my chest.

The Morning After

I woke to the sound of the three kids who lived in the house running around screaming. I felt the warmness on my chest. Fudge Round had slept on me all night, and her head was nuzzled between my neck and my shoulder.

When I went to use the bathroom, she followed me. When I got a bowl of cereal, she climbed up on my lap and watched me eat it. When I went outside for a walk around the park, she tried to run out the door and cried when I shut it behind me.

Upon returning from my walk, I went to put a few of my things back in my backpack before my Mom arrived. I'd been there for a week, and it was time to go home for the rest of the Summer. In two weeks, school would be starting.

I found Fudge Round sleeping on top of my backpack.

Not A Peep

I heard my Mom pull in the driveway, her tires graining the pavement. I could see her old silver minivan through the curtains. I picked up my backpack and headed to the door when claws scratching the wood beneath my feet enlightened me. Still tracking my steps, Fudge Round was determined to choose me as her person.

I knew what had to be done. I scooped her up and shoved her in book bag, as quickly as possible without alerting anyone in the family. I left the zipper open an inch so she would be able to breathe. I walked out the door holding the top strap of the backpack, and I could see her eye peeping out through the small opening. I prayed she wouldn't meow at all the entire way home which was about an hour and a half. I did reason with myself however, agreeing that it wouldn't be so bad if she did meow as long as we were *almost* home.

I highly doubted my Mom would turn around and drive her all the way back to Oshkosh.

Homeward Bound

My Mom greeted me with delight and motherly affection as I took my seat in the van, nervously fiddling my fingers as I awaited our departure. I sat in the very back of the van just in case the tiny kitten were to make any sudden noises.

I could easily say I heard it coming from behind us, and blame it on the old Dodge truck riding our tail.

After we were halfway home, Fudge Round got curious. I could see her tiny nose sniffing out of the tiny opening in the backpack. The she'd move her face and peek out with one eye, then sniff again, the peek, then sniff..

And eventually, she started trying to fit her head through the hole.

I decided against my better judgement to let her out of the dungeon. I unzipped the backpack and sat her on my lap.

She laid on my lap and purred the entire rest of the way.

Pepperoni and Shock

I let my Mom go inside first, and I followed a few minutes after. I excused myself by saying I need to find something that was in my backpack.

In all reality, I was sitting in the back of that van trying to find a simple explanation as to why I had a furry little bundle of joy in my lap. Then it came to me.

"Mom," I yelled, hurdling open the front door holding Fudge Round like she was Simba off the Lion King making her debut. "I just found this poor little girl outside by the trashcan."

I rushed the kitten over to my Mom's arms, partially hoping she would declare Fudge Round ours immediately. But her eyes told a different story as soon as I placed the little one in her lap.

Initially, they showed sympathy, but then they went dull and looked annoyed. I could always read my Mom from her eyes. They did most of the talking.

"She's rather clean for a stray," my Mom decided out loud. "She's spotless. I don't see a single flea. Even her paws are clean, and it's been raining all morning," my Mom continued while inspecting her. "You would think she might have at the very least some mud on her paws."

I knew what she was thinking without her having to say anything.

"Where did you get her, Michaela?"

She rolled her eyes.

There was no point in hiding in the truth.

"I took her from {insert the people I was babysitting for here} house."

"Why?!"

"Because."

Because that was the only excuse I could muster up. And I didn't have time to come up with something else before Fudge Round jumped off of my Mom's lap and followed the smell of pepperoni to the plate sitting on the coffee table dragged a piece behind the couch with her to feast on.

My Mom just looked at me in terror.

I shrugged my shoulders and smiled in angst.

Forever My Friend

After some pleading, my mom agreed to keep Fudge Round. We have had her for over five years now.

I renamed her Velveeta, like the cheese.

She has since been weened off of human food for the sake of her wellbeing and health.

Recently, neighbors left rat poison outside to take care of a problem they were having and Velveeta got into it.

We found her in the closet panting and near death.

By the grace of god and love, she has since improved however her cognitive and motor skills are very poor.

My hope is to be able to take her to a vet that could help us determine the best way to help her, and that is why I have submitted this into a contest. Thank you for reading.