It's way past judging day. Should Kitten judge? If you don't reply in two days then Kitten shall be appointed judge for this particular round.

I’m out of town and really busy, so I’m still going to try to do the technical, but I may not get it in before the deadline. If I don’t make the technical, will I still be able to stay in the competition?

Here is my story for the second round:  

Mikey yawns and hopped off her fluffy bed and went and saunters off towards the food bowl. She licks her food quietly, and my little sister, Lily goes over to play with her. I love her. We all do. She is a great pet. It’s an interesting story how we got her. A bit long, but a good story.

***

About a year ago, my sister and I were walking home from school one afternoon. It was so hot that day and very dry, with a weak hot breeze going through the air. There was a shady park that we always passed by. There was a really tall, big oak there on the edge, its branches going over the fence. All of the younger kids loved to climb it in the summer.

When we walked by it that day I saw a dog barking at the bottom. We stopped to see what was happening. Then I heard a quiet meowing sound, and looked up. There was a tiny cat hiding in the branches! And a dog was at the bottom, barking loudly.

“Look, there’s a little kitty up there!” My sister yelled.

“Yeah there is,” I replied looking up again, craning my neck to see the cat. My little sister called out to it.

“Come down Kitty, Kitty, come down!”

“It's not going to come. Don’t you see the dog there?” I said back to her.

“Go away dog, go away!” She yelled.

“Shh, that’s not going to work.” Seven year olds generally do not know how to do anything right.

“Well then you go get the dog away,” she said back.

The dog was barking and running around in circles around the tree, seemingly enjoying tormenting the cat. Right then I had a idea.

“Move back,” I said to my sister. I pulled out my lunch box. I still had a cheese stick that I hadn’t eaten.

“Dogs like cheese, right?” I said to no one in particular. I opened it and held it out to dog. The dog barked at me hungrily.

“Here,” I said. “Come and take it.” The dog ran over and I let him eat the cheese. I led him farther away from the tree and the little kitten up there.

“Try to get it to come down!” I called out to my sister.

“Here Kitty” She said quietly. “You can come down now. The dog won’t eat you now.” Slowly and carefully the cat made her way down the tree, while the dog greedily ate my cheese, too busy to notice.

My sister picked up the cat carefully as soon as it made it to the trunk. The cat was skinny and its light grey fur was matted with dirt. It had a few scrapes on its body. It didn’t look like it had a home. At least not for a long time.

“Can we keep it? We found it.” My sister asked me.

“That’s not quite how it works. It might belong to someone. We should put up posters.” I told her.

“Aww” She puckered her face. “But I love it. I’ll name it Mikey.”

“Oh come on. But we can take it home for now. Until we find the real owner.” I said back to her.  

“Well at least we get to have her for now!”

“Probably not for long. Let’s go home.” We walked the rest of the way, and came home much later than usual.

“A cat? Where did this come from?” My mom was very surprised when we first came in. But no owner ever contacted us to get it back, so it became ours.

***

But in the end, we got to keep our cat, and now we have a pet. It’s great, because I always wanted to have a pet. And now we do. And we all love our cat Mikey.

OMG SORRY IS THIS LATE????????????

I drag my feet across the pavement, sighing. Today is not
going well. The wind starts to pick up – I can hear laughter and singing, from
the Festival Grounds. I wish I could go, but no, I have responsibilities . . ..

     Suddenly a streak
of dark lightning races across the sky: Nightwell, my cat. Who has training
today . . .the reason I can't go to the Festival . . .

    
"Nightwell!" I yell. "Nightwell, what are you
doing!"

     She lands in a
tree, which croaks. "Get this pest off of me!"

     "Uh, sorry,
I –"

     A dog appears,
hot blue fur wild in the wind.

     "Oh my
wizards," I mutter. "This will not do. You! Dog! Get aWAY!"

     It doesn't work.
Nightwell's eyes are dim, and I know she doesn't have any more flying strength.
The dog put his paws on the tree, which shrieks and shivers. The branch
Nightwell cowers on sways.

     Suddenly I
remember my Wondercuff. It's made for goblins, but I can force it to work if I
have to . . . . ..

     "Activate
field," I whisper, pressing my lips to the cuff. I stand my ground, though
the wind pushes at me. Nightwell mews.

     I push out my
wrist just as more dogs appear. An orangey-yellow light spreads from my wrist
and pushes them back. A ray lands on Nightwell, who yowls and leaps from the
tree. The dogs retreat.

     "Thank
wizards that worked!" I smile and hug Nightwell. I don't feel sad about
training her anymore. That dog could have killed her easily.

     "Yes, thank
the wizards." Nightwell's eyes, diamond bright, smile at me. "That
dog really did look nasty . . . . . "

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~~~

I gave it a bit of a twist, hope that's OK. 

Here's my story!

Ari squinted at the afternoon sun. Shading her eyes, she saw Mr. Valdez, trimming his trees, as usual.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Valdez!” she shouted cheerfully. Mr. Valdez raised his head for half a second and waved, before turning back to his work.

“Good afternoon, Ari!” he replied. The ladder he was standing on jiggled, and he hurriedly grabbed a branch for support. Safely grounded once again, he looked up. “How was school today?”

“Fine, Mr. V,” she shouted.

Ari continued down the sidewalk toward her house on the corner. Suddenly, she heard an explosion of barking coming from across the street. Changing course, she raced to the other sidewalk and peered in the direction of the commotion. She immediately figured out what was wrong. Napoleon, her pampered, rotund, mini-dachshund was frantically clawing at a young tree. In the tree’s branches sat Snowball, the lithe grey cat that belonged to Mrs. Ellis. The two pets had been lifelong enemies since their owners brought them home to this block, within days of each other.

Ari quickly grabbed one of Napoleon’s tennis balls from her backpack. She hurled it down the sidewalk, shouting, “Fetch!” Napoleon’s eyes darted to the tennis ball, then back to his prey, trying to decide. “Fetch!” Ari repeated, more insistently. Napoleon obediently raced after the tennis ball as fast as his round body would allow. But Snowball remained stuck in the tree. She was obviously relieved that someone had taken care of Napoleon, but she couldn’t get down.

Ari started thinking. She couldn’t climb the tree: it was too tall and didn’t have enough branches. Maybe she could convince Snowball to jump? She stole a glance at the cat. It was digging its claws in and it looked terrified. So that wasn’t an option. Suddenly she remembered the conversation she had been having before this chain of events. She sprinted across the street and stumbled into Mr. Valdez’s yard, panting.

“Hey, Mr. Valdez!” she shouted. “Can I borrow your ladder?”

~~~

Ten minutes later, Ari knocked on Mrs. Ellis’s front door. It opened, and Mrs. Ellis studied Ari and Snowball in her arms.

“I found your cat,” Ari explained. “She was stuck in that tree over there.” Ari had decided not to mention Napoleon.

“How did you get her down?” Mrs. Ellis questioned, wearing a puzzled frown.

“Mr. Valdez let me borrow his ladder.”

“Well, thank you very much, dear,” Mrs. Ellis responded, lifting Snowball from Ari’s arms and closing the door.

My story went a little over the word count but I'm hoping it's ok! Enjoy!

It was a bright sunny afternoon in the middle of May and the weather was just right. The sun was blazing in the sky and there was a cool breeze that kept it from getting too hot. It was my favorite kind of day.

I was walking home from school, my backpack slung over my shoulder, and enjoying the scenes of my little suburban neighborhood. Ms. Minnie was in her garden tending to her plants, the Vanderbeck kids were playing in their yard, the little girls shouting "Kitty, kitty! I wanna kitty!" while their mother supervised, and Mr. Morse was getting ready to repaint his house for the fifth time.

"Hey, Mr. Morse! What color is it going to be this time?" I called, giving him a friendly wave.

"Hello to you too, Kate. It's going to be a brick red. And I have high hopes that this will be the last paint job." He laughed. "But I say that every time."

I smiled, wished him good luck, then headed on my way. I was only a few houses away from my own when I heard a loud angry barking sound. Startled, I turned around, looking for the source of the continuous whoofs. At the base of a large oak tree, Fluffles, the Marquez-Levin's dog, was hollering at something in the tree's leafy branches.

I tilted my head to see who the barks were directed at and realized it was a little grey kitten cowering in the greenery, one of Sadie's, the sweet mother cat that also belonged to Marquez-Levins. The poor thing! Thinking fast, I swung my bag off my shoulders and began rummaging through it for something useful. I pulled out my lunchbox and found an uneaten bologna sandwich inside. Mom always forgets I hate bologna, which usually annoys me, but today I was glad. It was actually going to be useful.

"Hey, Fluffles!" I called, approaching the big dog carefully. She looked over at me and drooled when she saw the sandwich, a little puddle of spit now on the sidewalk. Her eyes followed it hungrily as I waved it around.

Once I knew she was completely focused on it, I wound up my arm and threw it as hard as I could. It landed a couple houses down, a totally destroyed sandwich now, but it had worked as a distraction. Fluffles raced after it.

I approached to tree, looking for a way to scale it, but the kitten had already decided it was done waiting and hopped down itself, landing gracefully on its feet. That was one brave kitten! I scoped him, or her up in my arms, grabbed my backpack and headed to the Marquez-Levin's place which was across the street from mine.

I knocked on the door, trying to remove the kitten's sharp little claws from my shirt at the same time. A minute later, Mr. Marquez answered.

"Hey, Kate! What's up?" he asked, smiling and then spotted the cat in my arms. "Oh, you found him! That little rascal!" he leaned down and patted the kitten on the head. The cat purred. "He went missing this morning and I’ve been a little stressed ever since." Mr. Marquez explained as I passed the kitten over to him.

I nodded. I knew how it felt to have your pet go missing. Our dog had ran away for a short time when I was nine and I still worry about it happening.

"Well, I found him in a tree. Fluffles was barking at him and I had to use my bologna sandwich to get her away." I said.

He laughed. "Really? Well, thank you." he sighed. "I wish those two would get along. Zar, the kitten here, is the last one is his litter. We gave away the rest but we haven't been able to find him a home. And of course, he's the kitten who hates dogs." Mr. Marquez laughed again but I could tell it was a little forced.

I gave him a sympathetic smile. Then a thought occurred to me. "Hey, have you tried the Vanderbecks? I heard their kids really want a cat. Maybe they would take him."

He looked thoughtful. "I didn’t consider them. I wasn’t sure how Zar would respond to young children but now that I’ve spent so much time with him, I think he would be able to handle that. It's definitely worth a shot. Thank you again, Kate. You really are a savior." he said, chuckling. I laughed too. "It's no problem. I'm just happy to help." We then said our goodbyes and I headed home, feeling happy because there's really nothing better than beautiful days in May and helping your fellow humans out.

Catsclaw, you can judge this round, since I did the last round. Or, I suppose, we both could. And sorry about the pronouns! I'll try to remember that. :)

I think it's fine if your entry was late, just so long as you posted it before whoever's judging judged (and we haven't judged yet, so that's fine). And I don't think it's a big deal if you miss the round, either, so long as you posted in the Signature and/or the Showstopper.

Speaking of which, the Showstopper prompt should be posted soon. I think it's Catsclaw's turn for that, so hopefully, he will post that soon.

Kitten posted 33 seconds ago!