Cat Scratch Stories Novels & Stories

She whispers too, with a beautiful smile on her face. "Your scars, your story." "So, I can tell people I got this scar from saving a dog?" Kitty gasped. "Wow, a superhero already." Wilder gasped too. "That's lying and lying is bad." I scolded, smacking Wilder on his arm. "You are such a killjoy." Wilder rolled his eyes. "She is a killjoy," Wilder whispered as I can hear still him. Kitty nodded as she lets out her beautiful small laughs.

After putting away more chicken curry, Guy said, ‘Anoushka had two kittens a year or two back. Kit and Kat.* ‘And the poor little things both got run over within six months,* Anoushka said. Claudia felt a pang of empathy. ‘How awful.* ‘They had no road sense whatsoever,* said Guy. ‘Engaging little beasts, but brainless as they come.* ‘Mrs Pierce didn’t think they were engaging,* Anoushka said sulkily. ‘If you ask me, she got that horrible son of hers to come and run them over on purpose.*

Every time I came home, it would jump onto my lap and purr without stopping. Sure enough, an orange cat soon emerged from the bushes. "Tangy?" I crouched down and held out my hand. It stared at me warily without moving closer. "Come here," I said softly, shifting a little forward. "Don't you remember me anymore?" Suddenly, it arched its back. Its fur stood on end, and it let out a low, warning hiss. Before I could react, it lunged at me and scratched me, drawing a line of blood across the back of my hand.

With that, both him and Charmine worked in the same office. At that moment, someone cried out loud from downstairs. “Mommy! Mommy! Waa…! Mommy!” Chris was crying! Charmine frowned. What was Chris pulling this time? She rushed down with Anthony and saw that Chris was crying with a kitten in hand in the living room. The kitten in his hands was wounded; it was bleeding. Guy, standing by the side, was confused. Charmine frowned and asked, “What happened, Momo?” He sobbed and sniveled pitifully. “I brought home a kitten today, Mommy, but Uncle Guy saw it and said you might be allergic to it… He also said that animals like this have many germs, so he threw and wounded the kitten… Waa…!”

"Cat scratch fever is no joke." The corner of his mouth curved into a heart-stopping smile. He straightened his arm out, emphasizing that I didn't need to worry. "Don't worry about me." I tilted my head to the side, a question falling passed my lips. "If you heal that fast, why do you have so many scars?" Well, that felt insensitive to say out loud, but Kit didn't seem remotely bothered by it. "My scars are from wounds that would have killed me if I was human."

have found me so fast. She shoved the thought down. Hard. Across the yard, Jasmine and Kika were locked in a brutal spar. Jasmine—wild cat number 89—was dominating, landing elbow strikes and knee drives that had Kika (101) staggering. Serial stood at the edge of the mat, arms crossed, shouting critiques. “Too slow, 101! You fight like you’re scared of pain—newsflash, it’s coming anyway!” Jasmine swept Kika’s legs; Kika hit the mat hard. Serial barked a laugh. Then her gaze shifted. Landed on Riley. A slow, predatory smile curled her lips. “Oh look who we have here,” Serial called, loud enough to draw eyes from every corner of the yard. “The runaway wild cat. Quite surprising how out of the

“Are you alright?” “Yeah, I saw Zeek in my dream, and he was dead,” Kitty sniffled. “It’s all my fault. I just know it.” “Shh,” Cheryl tucked her friend in bed, then she snuggled up to the comfort of her blanket. Cassandra got comfortable in the coach. Katherine laid wide awake staring at the ceiling fan, spinning away. “An animal attacked him just like the others and ripped him to shreds!” She exclaimed, disturbing her friends from their dozes.

Scott-cat growls and me and I growl back. “What is your damage?” Eliza asks, taking the bottle of wine from me. “On second thought, I don’t want to know. What I do want to know is how you’re going to get that fucking dingus brother of yours to remove the violations. We can’t open again until they’re clear.” “He’ll remove them, I’m sure…once he has opposable thumbs again.” “What the hell are you talking about?” I sweep my hand out at Scott-Cat, who hisses and growls and makes a move to jump off the counter but stops. He’s not used to walking on four legs.

It seemed like it was going to rain heavily. Charity looked up and said softly to the skinny cat, “Oh well, do you want to… come home with me? My house is quite spacious.” The cat meowed before it looked down and ate the fish seriously. Charity thought the cat agreed, so she stretched out her hand to hug it. However, the wild cat ended up extending its sharp claws and scratching the back of her hand, leaving a scar on her hand. “Tsk, tsk. Are you having a brain fart moment? This wild cat is highly vigilant. Did you think it was similar to a domestic cat?”

RUBY "Today we found a kitten in the schoolyard," Austin began, starting storytime with Wyatt. This had become a regular occurrence since Wyatt requested it weeks ago, though it had shifted to a video call. It always started right after dinner and could end minutes or hours later. If Austin insisted on talking more, they would continue until bedtime. "Oh, really?" Wyatt asked, curiosity flickering despite the tiredness on his face. "What does it look like?" "It's cute and has orange fur like Garfield," Austin mentioned, referring to a character on the cartoon he watched. "But it's small, Uncle, and it looks weak. The voice is also tiny. The meowing sounds like crying, too." He described the