Timba Comes Home Read Free Page A

Vati.’
    I thought about my brother. Vati: that’s what his name would be. Timba and Vati. Two black kittens against the world. I remembered Vati’s poetic little face, his sensitivity and the
way he had always stayed so adoringly close to me. Right then I wanted him so much.
    ‘That’s a very clever idea, Leroy,’ Angie said. ‘I like that.’
    I was falling asleep in Angie’s comforting hands. Please keep me, I dreamed. I don’t want to be Leroy McArthur’s cat and live on scraps and get squeezed and mauled around.
    Those few moments with Angie were precious. I was only a kitten, but I stared into her eyes with the mind of an adult cat who had lived many lives with her. I was searching for reasons why she
needed me now. What was causing the stress? Why did I feel this beautiful, loving young woman was hiding so much sadness? I saw the burden of too much caring weighing her down, stealing her
happiness. Angie was trying too hard to love. She wasn’t looking after herself. She definitely needed a cat. Me!
    Perhaps if I’d stayed awake, there might have been a way of escaping, but I was so tired, and the last thing I heard was Angie’s voice saying, ‘Baby kittens need to sleep a
lot, Leroy. You mustn’t try to wake him up.
    ‘Now you must promise me you will look after Timba and be kind to him. He needs small regular meals, and a litter tray, and a quiet home where he feels safe . . . Are you listening,
Leroy?’
    ‘Yes, Miss.’
    ‘And he’s got to go to the vet and have his injections against cat flu. I’ll give you the name of this website about caring for kittens. It’s—’
    ‘We don’t have a computer,’ said Janine.
    ‘Right. OK.’ Angie looked thoughtful. She carried me over to the book corner. ‘There should be a book here about cat care.’
    ‘That’s no good. He can’t read,’ said Janine, and Leroy hung his head and looked ashamed.
    ‘But you can,’ said Angie, pulling out a slim book with a cat on the front. ‘And Leroy can read now, with a bit of help.’
    ‘I don’t have time for that,’ Janine said and she pushed the book back across the table. ‘I’m not stupid, you know. I know how to look after a cat. It’s not
rocket science, is it?’
    In my dream Vati was calling and calling for me. He told me an incredible story. The dog, Harriet, hadn’t hurt him or my tabby-and-white sister but carried them into a cottage where a kind
old lady had looked after them and given them kitty milk on a saucer. Then he and my sister had gone to sleep WITH THE DOG! Today they’d both been delivered to a cat sanctuary, and a lady
with a painted face had chosen my sister and taken her away. Vati was all alone, like me, and in the dream we established a telepathic link to keep us in touch. We’d always been close and
needed each other, but now we were separated our need had become an intense ache in both our souls.
    When I finally woke up it was late afternoon, and I was in a cardboard box with Leroy’s woolly hat and a battered teddy bear who looked and smelled musty. I wailed in
fright, and Leroy’s bright face peeped in at me. ‘Hello, Timba.’ I meowed back, and he airlifted me out of the box and put me down in front of two dishes. One had milk, and the
other had something white with orangey crumbs. The milk tasted weird and sour but I lapped and lapped until my tummy felt warm and heavy. Then I tried the other stuff. ‘A bit of my fish
finger,’ Leroy said. ‘I mashed it up for you. Do you like it, Timba?’
    Leroy sat on the floor with me and talked non-stop while I sidled round the dish, trying to work out a way of eating this tough, unfamiliar food. It tasted OK, but the crumbs were gritty and the
fish too chewy for my immature teeth. I dragged most of it off the dish and made what Janine called ‘a dreadful mess’.
    ‘You can’t force him to eat, Leroy,’ she said, but he kept picking up flakes of fish and trying to put them in my mouth.
    Next, Leroy