Lizzy and the Open Door
The night was dark and frightening, a heavy ache in her heart. Why her? Lizzy crouched quietly beneath the shadow of an oak in the garden, the biting wind cutting through her fur, her tears turning to frost in the autumn chill. She tucked her frozen paws beneath her and remembered
Those warm, golden days curled against her mothers side, nestled in a pile of squirming siblings. Her mother would lick them clean, one by one, purring soft lullabies. Safe. Loved. Then her legs grew strong, and she longed to escape that warm cocoon, darting across the sunlit floors of the flat.
One by one, her brothers and sisters were taken away, until it was Lizzys turn. A man and a woman cooed at her, stroked her, even kissed her, but she only wanted to run. They brought her to a new home, and run she didexploring every room, every hidden corner.
At first, everyone adored the tiny kitten. So many toys! Feather wands, jingling balls, stuffed mice. The best was chasing the elusive red dot from the laser pointer, always just out of reach.
But Lizzy grew into a dignified lady, leaving most games behindexcept when she heard the jingle of the laser pointers chain. Evenings were spent helping her mistress cook, mornings seeing her master off to work. She was happy.
Then it all ended. Suitcases appeared. Lizzy pounced on them, delighted by the new game, but her owners wouldnt meet her eyes. Soon, a sour-faced woman with pinched lips arrivedsome distant relative tasked with watching the flat and the cat.
Lizzy waited by the door, ears pricked for familiar footsteps. None came.
The flat grew cold and unwelcoming. Meals were forgotten until Lizzy sat patiently by her empty bowl, too timid to beg. Only when the woman nearly tripped over her would she grudgingly fill the grimy dish. No more napping on the sofa (Hair everywhere!) or the windowsill (Youll crush the plants!). Lizzy was banished to the hallway, her bed a gritty mat.
She kept herself spotless, but it didnt matter. One day, the woman shrieked at finding fur on her suede boots, waving a dishcloth like a weapon. Lizzy flattened herself against the wall, tremblingno one had ever shouted at her before.
And still, her owners didnt return.
Then the door was left ajar.
Lizzy slipped out, glancing back once before darting down the stairs. She ran until the flat was far behind her.
Now she was alone in the cold, exposed. Somewhere nearby, a pack of dogs roamed, and for a moment, she wished she could vanish. A flicker of regretbut she couldnt go back. Not to that woman, not to that life.
She wondered if the door *had* been left open by accident.
Inside the flat, the woman trudged about with a bin bag, scooping up Lizzys toys. She dumped the leftover kibble inside, tossed in the bowls, and knotted the bag shut.
A dogs bark startled Lizzy into motion. She didnt know where she was going, only that shed never be happy again.
Days blurred into nights. She found shelter near a bakerys gate, where the night guards didnt shoo her away. Clean and shy, she caught their sympathy, but she wouldnt let them near. They left her the choicest scraps, but she refused to eatif shed wanted to live, shed have stayed where there was food, however grudgingly given.
Thirst was harder to ignore. The puddles she drank from left her belly aching. Her ribs jutted out, her once-glossy fur dulled. Only her wide, innocent eyes still drew concern. The bakers plotted to catch her, force-feed herbut she twisted free of their nets and fled.
More wandering. Then, somehow, her paws led her home. The front door was unlocked.
She hesitated before creeping inside, climbing the stairs slower than ever. At lasther flats door, shut tight. She didnt know why shed returned. A final goodbye?
Beyond the door, voices clashed.
Gone? Just like that? Her mistresss voice was sharp. And where are her things?
You should be *thanking* me for watching this placeand your flea-ridden cat! the woman snapped. Tom, tell her!
But Tom only glared at his sister, restraining his furious wife. Hed expected many things from herbut not this.
A neighbour peered out. Lizzy? Oh, you poor thing! Hang on, love. She rang the bell.
The door flew open. The pinch-lipped woman stormed out. Im *done* with this family!
Thenher mistress appeared.
Lizzy yowled, launching herself at the womans legs, scrambling up her trousers in a frenzy of claws and purrs.
Youre back, her mistress whispered, tears threatening.
Lizzy rubbed against her so fiercely, fur coated her clean clothes. At last, for the first time in days, she felt hunger.
That night, curled between her beloved owners, Lizzy realised shed been wrong.
She *was* happy again.
