years ago, when my daughters were very young, I used to write little stories about the things they loved. This is one of them about adorable (and sometimes slightly chaotic) family cat.
Suitable for ages 4 to 8 (read-aloud).
Story 1 of 2 in the “Rosie the Cat” series
Rosie and the Playtime
Rosie loved the little girls that she lived with very much, but Emily and Rebecca were a little too bouncy and active for her sometimes, and all Rosie wanted to do most of the time was sleep.
Rosie loved to sleep and would spend large amounts of the day snoozing in a warm corner of the house, or under a particularly fragrant bush in the garden, and she never liked to have her sleep disturbed.
On this particular Sunday morning, Rosie had got herself settled nicely in front of the warm fire when she heard the unmistakable sound of the girls running downstairs, shouting her name.
“Rosie, Rosie, come out and play!” they both shouted together.
Rosie lifted her head, opened her eyes slightly, then simply settled down again as she listened to the laughter of the girls getting further and further away.
It seemed to Rosie that she had just got her head down again when Emily sat alongside her and started to stroke her.
“Come on Rosie,” whispered the excited little girl, “come and play with your toy mouse.”
Rosie was then aware of her favourite toy being galloped along the floor and all over her tired body. Rosie just rolled further onto her side and covered her eyes with her paws, stretching out her long, slender body for a good old stretch, before curling back into a ball.
But the girls were not going to give up that easily.
Rebecca leaned in close and whispered, “If you come and play, Rosie, you can have some extra treats later.”
One eye slowly opened.
Rosie lifted her head again, this time a little higher. Treats were something Rosie understood very well.
With a long, slow stretch, she finally stood up, flicked her tail, and began to walk quietly towards the back door. The girls looked at each other, trying to stay quiet, but their excitement bubbled over as they followed her outside.
In the garden, Rosie came alive.
She darted across the lawn, chasing after sticks the girls dragged along the grass. She pounced at invisible creatures only she could see, leaping high into the air before landing softly and racing off again. The girls chased her, laughing and calling her name, running back and forth across the garden.
For a while, Rosie forgot all about her nap.
Eventually, though, Rosie slowed. She stopped, looked around… and realised the girls were no longer chasing her.
Curious, she padded back towards the house.
The back door was still open. Rosie slipped inside and made her way into the living room.
There, curled up on the sofa, were Emily and Rebecca, fast asleep. Their playtime had worn them out completely.
Rosie paused for a moment, then jumped up gently between them. She turned in a small circle, settled herself comfortably, and with a soft purr, closed her eyes.
And so, after all that excitement, she finally got what they wanted… a nice, peaceful sleep.
An original story by Andrew Scaife (written in 2006)
© Andrew Scaife, 2006–. All rights reserved.
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