Baby Gepi's first night at home. Opening his Christmas present. On a weekend trip.
Again, this is a post from my old blog. This is one of two children's manuscripts that I have completed and will make every effort to publish this year. The story, in its entirety, is absolutely magnificent. At least thirty of my adult friends have read it and they absolutely love it. I've also shared it with a couple of classes in the schools in which I work. Again, the response has been overwhelming and feed back absolutely favorable.
To My Readership: This story initially had been presented in its entirety: however, as it has been echoing very, very strongly in my heart and spirit, I feel I have to remove it. What you see here are excerpts. The direction I am receiving is to send the original story to publishers in the hopes of being published. For those of you who were able to read the story in its completeness, thank you for your loyalty and very positive, and empathetic feedback. The message impedes upon me tremendously, I must send this story to be published. Again, thank you. The story begins...
Mother's Day, 2002, ushered in a beautiful litter of kittens. "Oh my, look at that one!" Vilma said excitedly as the tiny kitten scurried away from the others. "Grab him and put him back with the rest." For a few seconds he stayed put and then ran off again to forge and explore his brand new world. "Look, he just won't stay still. He's so active." We laughed delightfully, as the black, little, ball of fur stumbled and crawled over his siblings to get away. His small, white paws clawing as fast as they could, accompanied by his very sweet, new born, baby meows. "He has black lips and a pink nose," I observed, cheerfully. Smiling, as the kitten now made his way into the living room, Vilma said, "That's the one I want! I want that one!" Light-heartedly I said, "But he's so hyper. Look! Now he's trying to climb up the side of the couch!" This was one decision that was not going to change. On June 27th, 2002, the baby kitten was on his way to his new home...
...Gepi grew very quickly. Our freshly bought Christmas tree stood in the middle of the living room floor, drying. I walked in from the bedroom as Vilma was in the kitchen. Laughing, I exclaimed, "Look at Gepi!" There he was, half way up the tree, totally sprawled out- two paws stretching to the north and two to the south: flatly. We laughed, as it was such a funny sight. Helplessly Gepi meowed as he looked desperately toward us. I couldn't help but tease him, "What's up eh! Need a hand? Just hanging around are ya!" We treasured the moment some more before we took him down. Excitedly, he ran just as if nothing had happened. "How are we going to keep Gepi from the tree once its decorated?" I asked Vilma. She replied, "We'll figure it out. He's a smart cat and will learn quickly not to touch the tree."
.....One night, we heard cries of such desperation coming from the back door; meows so loud, and filled with hints of agony. Vilma and I looked desperately toward each other and shouted, "Gepi!" We ran to the back door and opened it. Our hearts broke. Gepi came stumbling in- beaten, battered, and torn. His entire body was dripping wet and muddy. Lacerations and cuts covered much of his body, especially his head area...