Brown Cartoon Cat Novels & Stories

So Carlo was right… Slamming down the thought of Carlo and his insults, I focus on the kitten. “Okay, let’s get a look at you, sweetie. Oh good, the burn isn’t as bad as it could be. You are so lucky. Ah, oops, you’re a girl.” I run my hands gently over the kitten, watching her for any reaction of pain to my touch. A sigh of relief leaves me when she doesn’t meow in pain. Studying her, she’s pure black, not a spot of color on her.

In the light brown box, the walls are the same colour, with a sketch of Caramel with mouse ears and tails, a shy look on his face with a couch with books on it, and comics. In the dark brown, the walls are brown with Coco having a tail and dog ears and a collar around his neck. His section has his easel, canvas and pencils. And then the wall facing the door, is painted yellow, a lighthouse and a beach on it, while Vanilla stares at the sea. This Vanilla, by the way, is a cat.

The tabby’s eyes glinted with dry amusement. “You mean the hunt for the dragon prince’s—” began a scruffy grey cockatoo perched above, but the cat shot it a glare. “Yeah, yeah, you get the point. No need spellin’ it out, feather-brains. Use yer head, will ya?” A hoarse, wheezy laugh erupted from a balding rabbit still stuck in its cage. Its mangy brown fur stood in strange patches, as though bitten off by disease, or worse.

he replied. I smiled and leaned into him. “I think I’d like that too,"I said. ********* When we got back home, a box was at the doorstep. Brown and small, with a note taped to the top. Carson picked it up carefully. “What is it?” I asked. He read the note out loud. “From someone who owes you both. Hope this makes your day better.” He opened the box slowly, just in case. Inside was a small kitten. Tiny. White. Big green eyes. And a pink ribbon around its neck.

Janice scooped it up carefully, and the little traitor started purring louder in her arms. “I hope you’re not thinking of keeping that thing. It’s probably fill of fleas. It might bite you. What if it has rabies? We should drown it in the lake or something and end its miserable little life.” Janice gasped dramatically, covering the cat’s ears. “Don’t listen to him, Bandit. He’s just being mean because he’s scared.” “Bandit?” I raised an eyebrow. She grinned. “Look at the markings around his eyes. He looks like a little bandit.”

I asked and raised my head, glancing at Bethany. “Yes,” my best friend answered for him, her eyes rolling as she sat beside him and nudging his arm. Callahan sat up straight and took the cup of coffee. “But when we got there in the pet shop, no kitten looked like the feline he was looking for.” Bethany sipped her cup and then turned her head to Callahan. “I like the orange one. Why didn’t you take it?” “It’s not Cotton,” he said. “I know,” I murmured, agreeing. I imagined my children’s reaction if Callahan brought a cat that didn’t look like the one he got for them. I tilted my head and looked at Bethany, hoping to change the topic. “Where’s Marga?”

I jerk up, narrowing my eyes and pursing my lips. “It’s on,” I warn them and dive in. * I type a reply only to delete it. Biting my lip, I shift my eyes from my computer to Orange Cat, a cleverly named orange tabby, I know. He’s one of the three barn cats Grandpa has let inside. We also have Black Cat, who is—you guessed it—black. And Tabby, a grey tabby cat. Creativity is obviously not Grandpa’s strong point. Nearly half an hour has passed and I still haven’t replied to my sister’s email. I don’t know what to say. My heart skips a beat in my chest butterflies swarm in my stomach. Closing my eyes, I flop back on my bed, mulling everything over.

The current cartoon has a pink panther as the main lead. Bren dips her hand into my bowl of popcorn, ignoring the untouched bowl between her and her sister. I don’t know why they do that. Make me get popcorn for all three of us and eat only from mine. The panther darts across the screen, I prop my legs on the coffee table and push the bowl to Bren’s laps. The light from the television illuminates her face and I catch the scowl directed at me as she pushes it back to me. Wyn is the more outgoing one but Bren has become more aggressive from staying indoors.

I froze at that thought as I finally turned to look at the Creature. I let out a gasp. The creature had a colorings of a cat with striped fur but the built of a lion, its claws and teeth were sharp and I could see that the trap was one of those ones which was meant to injure its prey and right now, I was not so happy that it chose to fall into this particular one. The cat gave a pathetic meow as he tried to crawl to me but the trap snagged it back and it made that strange yowl which we heard all night.

I counter his declaration. “She is wolf!” Maydor yells “And you are not one of us.” I had had enough of this bullshit and raised my claws to tear his neck open when I feel a small hand on my arm. “Crimson, don’t.” I look down to see my kitten, a bandage on her neck. Her dark skin is ashen and pale. Her yellow eyes dim. “I’m ok. I will heal.” She says but I still worry. She should be resting. Blood has already seeped through the wrapping.