**Lizzie and the Open Door**
Its dark and frightening outside My heart aches. And I dont even know why this is happening to me. Lizzie sat quietly in the shade of the oak tree in the garden. The biting wind cut through her fur, turning her tears into icy droplets on the autumn frost. She tucked her frozen paws under her belly and remembered
How lovely it had been curled up against her mothers warm side, nestled in a soft heap of her brothers and sisters. Mum would clean them one by one, purring a gentle lullaby. So safe, so warm Then her legs grew strong, and she began venturing beyond that cosy nest into the bright flat.
One by one, her siblings were taken awayuntil it was Lizzies turn. A man and woman cooed sweetly at her, cuddled and even kissed her. But Lizzie didnt careshe wanted to run! They brought her to a new home, and she dashed about, exploring every room, every hidden corner.
At first, everyone adored the little kitten. So many toysfeather wands, jingling balls, stuffed mice. The best game was chasing the red dot from the laser pointer, always just out of reach.
But Lizzie grew into a dignified lady, no longer interested in gamesexcept when she heard the faint jingle of the laser pointer. Even then, she couldnt resist. In the evenings, she “helped” her owner cook, perched on the kitchen counter. In the mornings, she escorted her master to the door. Lizzie had been happy.
Then it all ended Suitcases and bags appeared. Lizzie hopped over them, thinking it a new game. But her owners were grim-faced, avoiding her gaze. A sour-faced woman with pinched lips arriveda relative, Lizzie gathered, whod look after the flat while they were away.
The house grew cold and uneasy. Lizzie was often forgotten at mealtimes, too timid to beg. Shed sit by her empty bowl, waiting. Only when the woman nearly tripped over her would she grudgingly toss food into the grimy dish.
The sofa was off-limits (“everything will be covered in fur”), the windowsill too (“youll knock over the plants”). Lizzie spent her days on the gritty doormat in the hall. No more warm hands, no more affectionthe woman recoiled from her touch. Though Lizzie groomed herself diligently, it made no difference.
One day, the woman shrieked at finding fur on her suede boots, waving a tea towel like a weapon. Lizzie cowered, eyes squeezed shut. Shed never been shouted at before. And still, her owners didnt return
Then, spotting the door ajar, she left. Glancing back once, she bolted downstairs, away from the place that was no longer home.
Now she was alone in the cold, exposed, with nowhere to hide. Somewhere nearby, a pack of dogs roamed. For a moment, she regretted leavingbut she couldnt bear another day with that tight-lipped woman. Maybe the open door hadnt been an accident.
Inside, the woman stuffed Lizzies toys into a bin bag. She dumped the leftover kibble and bowls in too.
Hearing distant barks, Lizzie hunched low and crept onward. She didnt know where she was going, only that shed never be happy again.
Days passed. She wandered, flinching at drunken voices or stray dogs. By chance, she found shelter near a bakery, where the guards didnt shoo her away. Workers left out scraps, but Lizzie wouldnt eat. She couldve endured hunger in that flatbut thirst forced her to drink filthy puddle water. Her ribs showed through her once-glossy coat.
The bakery staff fretted, even trying to catch her with a netbut she darted away, fleeing into the streets once more.
Somehow, her paws led her back. The front door was open
She stared into the dark hallway, then stepped inside. It took her twenty minutes to climb to the second floor. And there it washer flats closed door. She didnt know why shed returned. Maybe just to see it one last time?
Behind the door, a row erupted. Her owners were back, and the wife was shouting at her sister-in-law.
“Ran away, did she?” the wife snapped. “Then where are her things?”
“You should be thanking me for watching your flatand that flea-ridden cat!”
The husband held his wife back, glaring at his sister. Hed expected many things from herbut not this.
A neighbour peered out. “Lizzie! Oh, youre so small now! Wait, theyll let you in” She rang the bell.
The door flew open, and the sour-faced woman stormed out. “Ill never set foot here again!”
Then the wife appearedLizzie yowled, scrambling up her trousers, claws snagging the fabric.
“You came back” the woman whispered, tears welling.
Lizzie rubbed against her, shedding fur all over her clean clothes. Finally, for the first time in six days, she felt hungry
That night, curled between her beloved owners, Lizzie realised shed been wrong. She was happy again.
