Jack and Poppy liked animals. Small animals. With fur and cuddles. But they didn’t have a pet because Mum used to say, “‘Pets are so much trouble. You have to look after them and that takes work.” But one day something happened.
That morning Jack and Poppy finished their breakfast and asked mum if they could go up the hill. “You sure can,” mum said. “I need a chance to tidy up your rooms. And if you two are out of my hair it’ll be quicker.” She laughed and then said, “What about a little snack to take with you?” That was a great idea, Jack said.
Soon he and Poppy were marching out the garden gate with a little bite to eat making a little bulge in the pocket of their jackets. “Let’s go to a different place up the hill today,” Poppy said. Jack thought that was OK. He said, “Where?”
“Well, we could try going up there,” Poppy said and she pointed up to a little clump of trees, high up on the hill.. “We could explore around the other side of those trees.” Jack said that was a good idea and they set off up the hill.
At first walking was easy. Then the hill got steeper and it turned into a huffing and puffing hill. But up and up they went, and Jack said, “Probably no-one comes up here. It’s too steep.” “Maybe!” said Poppy. She was gasping and puffing and blowing and slow-going. “Maybe we’re the first explorers.”
She was wrong. Because when they got to the trees and stopped for a rest, Jack saw something. “Poppy,” he said, “someone’s been here. Look.” And he pointed. “It’s a hole,” Poppy said. “Someone’s come and dug a hole.“
“Why would someone dig a hole?” Jack asked. Poppy said, “Maybe they’re hiding some treasure.”
They hurried over and peered inside. The hole was narrow and deep and it was dark at the bottom. And then, as they looked, something down at the bottom of the hole moved!
It wasn’t treasure. It was a little animal. “It’s a kitten!” Poppy said. “Jack, someone’s put a kitten down there!”
Sure enough, a little kitten was looking up at them with big eyes and pointy ears and all her fur plastered down. It was thin and cold and shivering. “She’s all wet,” Jack whispered.
The kitten understood what he said because she moved her head to one side and made a small little ‘meow’ sound to Jack.
“Poor little pussy,” Jack said. Then he pointed down. “Poppy, look. There’s a bit of paper tied around her neck. With writing.”
“It’s a note!” Poppy said. “Jack, maybe that note will tell us her name and who she belongs to. We’ve got to lift her out”
But then they sat back up and looked at each other. And Jack said, “We can’t lift her out, Poppy. She’s too far down to reach.”
“Yes,” said Poppy. “We’ll need some tools.”
“Some equipment,” Jack said. “Let’s run home and get something so we can get her out of this nasty hole.”
So they gave a little goodbye wave to the kitten and stood up. Another small ‘meow’ sound come out of the hole, but they turned and raced back down the hill. Faster and faster they went.
They crashed through their garden gate and went straight to the garage. Dad had tools there and they grabbed a ladder and a shovel and a rope and a bag made from soft cloth. “Is this bag strong enough?” Poppy asked, panting and puffing. “Yes, plenty,” Jack said and they piled all the equipment into their arms and each of them took an end of the ladder and they wobbled and bobbled outside, through the gate (their hands were so full they couldn’t close the gate, so they just left it open) and up the hill.
It was such a big job. The equipment was heavy and gangly and the rope kept unravelling and dangling and dragging on the ground. The shovel was tipping and moving in their arms. The bag was flopping around Poppy’s legs and she had to stop and stuff the bag into her jacket pocket; the other pocket, where the snack wasn’t.
But they couldn’t stop. They had to keep going. The little kitten must be saved! So up and up they struggled until finally they were back at the hole.
The little kitten was still down there. At the bottom. It looked up and opened its mouth and said another ‘meow’. “Don’t worry,” Jack said. “We’ve come to rescue you, pussy!”
And they got to work. They dug and they scrapped and they heaved and they panted and they made the hole wider and burrowed and borrowed and got closer and closer to the little kitten. The dirt and mud made their hands and feet dirty but they didn’t mind. They kept working and then, at last, as they pushed and twisted and clanged, they reached the kitten. “Hooray!” Poppy said. “We’ve come for you little kitten!”
Carefully they put the ladder into the hole and reached down and gently put their hands around the kitten. It said, ‘meow’ and waggled its head. “She’s saying, ‘thank you’!” Jack said, grinning.
They lifted her out and Poppy took the paper note. It said, ‘I don’t want this kitten.’ “Oh, Jack, that’s so cruel!” Poppy said. “They put her into this nasty hole because they didn’t want her. Obviously not ailurophiles.” [ai-luro-philes] And she opened her arms and let the kitten snuggle there. Like a baby.
It was small and thin and shivering. Jack stroked her and then said, “Come on, little puss. We’ll put you in this warm comfy bag and take you home.” They slipped the little kitten into the bag and gathered up all of dad’s tools and set off for home.
This time they didn’t hurry. They walked carefully and slowly so their little kitten wouldn’t bounce and bump too much in the bag. And they were able to get out their snacks and munch and crunch a little bit while they were walking, because they were tired.
At last they reached home. They dropped the tools in a heap at the back door and quietly went in looking for mum. They found her sitting with a cup of coffee. “Mum, you’ll never guess,” Jack whispered. “We’ve found a little kitten.” “She’s an abandoned kitten,” Poppy said. “No-one wants her.”
Mum jumped up. “What? You’ve brought a kitten home?”
Poppy said, “Yes. We found her in a hole.” “And there’s a note,” Jack added. “Someone didn’t want her.” Poppy looked up at mum, “But we want her mum,” she said. “Can we keep her?”
Well, mum didn’t know what to say. She read the note and looked at the little kitten. It peered out from the bag at mum and said ‘meow’. Then mum looked at Jack and Poppy. She was thinking.
Mum finished the last sip of her coffee and put the cup on the table and put her hands on her hips. “You two!” she said. “You’re Rescuers! Well, we’ll have to run this past dad later. And we should call the council and check that no one’s lost a kitten. But … probably we can keep her.”
“Oh, mum!” Jack and Poppy squealed and jumped around and laughed and let the kitten out of the bag.
“She’ll be a lot of work you know,” mum said, but Jack and Poppy just chuckled and gave their mother a big kitten-hug. “Thank you, mum!” Then Jack stopped. “A name. What are we going to call her?”
Mum got a saucer and put some milk in it. “A name?” mum said. “That’s what Jesus’ aunty and uncle had to do when their little boy was born. Some of the family wanted one name, but dad wanted a different name.” Jack nodded. He knew that story from the Bible stories Mum and Dad read to them each bedtime. He said, “In the end they called him John. John the Baptist.” Mum nodded.
Then Poppy said, “We could call our kitten ‘Holly’ because we found her in a hole-y.” And they all laughed, mum put some lunch on the table and when Jack and Poppy had cleaned off all the mud and dirt they sat down.
What name do you think they should call their little kitten?