Angela heard it again. A repetitive scratching noise at the door, accompanied by a meow, although a very weak meow. It was a very cold evening and she had a heart for animals, so she looked through the window. She saw the sweetest little black kitten she had ever seen.
“Oh you poor little thing” she said as she opened the door.
She wanted to take it in her arms and give it some kindly strokes, but the kitten repaid her kindness by a neat clean scratch on her hand and jumped onto the armchair in front of the fire and began to purr.
“Oh, you poor little thing” she said. “Where’s your mummy?”
Of course the kitten gave no answer, generally cats do not talk or understand. Angela decided it must be hungry, but all she had was two pieces of liver for tomorrow’s dinner. She decided to give…
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