Zivia“Mew. Mew.” What’s that? I heard a small noise come from up the hill. It sounded like a . . . a . . . “STTOOOPP!!!” I dropped my bike. My parents stopped biking and looked around. “Do you see that? Right there! In the hill! In that bush!” I scream-whispered.

My mom came over. “Zivia! What is i—oh my!” The little kitten crawled into view. It was no pet cat. It was scrawny and sad. I knew that kitten needed help. Its eyes were scratched like it was in a fight, and tufts of fur were missing. Then, before anyone could stop me, I started climbing the hill.

As I climbed, stickers and vines clawed at my legs. The kitten bolted when it sensed me. I, of course, chased after it. My hands decided on their own to grab it. I nestled it in my shirt. I saw my mom was opening the lunch box to put the kitten inside (I later found out that my father was against the entire thing). We started walking down the hill. Step. Step. Step. The kitten struggled. Then suddenly, without any warning it opened those tiny jaws and chomped down . . . on my finger!

Some hours later I was inside Abington Hospital. The doctor told me I would be getting rabies shots.


My mom tried to calm me down. “It’s okay, Zivia, everything will be . . .”

“NOOOOOO, IT WON’T!” While we waited, there was a lot of crying and pleading. I was ready to disappear. The suspense was building a skyscraper!

A million years (a.k.a. five hours) later, they brought me into a small room. I sat down. Two nurses came over with two needles. After that, I really can’t explain what happened because I really don’t want to think about it. I can say—those shots hurt like the end of the world! I got four that day. A week later I got another. Next week, another, and another! Every week until I had ten: five in my thighs and five in my arms. They were really, really, really (times a million) painful!

So, dear reader, never pick up a wild cat without a suit of armor. But even though it was a very painful experience, I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant saving that kitten. That’s just who I am. But maybe next time, I will use the lunchbox to catch the kitten instead of my hands.

Zivia Brown

Zivia Brown is a 12-year-old cat lover and sixth grader at Greene Street Friends School in Philadelphia, Pa. Outside of school, she enjoys reading, drawing, doing karate, and playing with her cats. She lives with her mom, pop, and four cats.

2 thoughts on “THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!

  1. Zivia, your story is a little painful to read. My former neighbor went through a similar incident with a bigger cat a few years back. While growing-up, I was taught to not go near wild animals acting in strange ways. A few times, an animal on the farm was killed and buried because of rabies symptoms. Only once, was it all done by myself. Please be careful around wild animals. May God be with you.

  2. Hi Zivia! I really like your story. It had a lot of what my school calls voice (putting yourself into the writing) I can totally understand why you’d want to rescue that kitten, though I guess it didn’t end well! All those shots must of been really painful. Anyways, great writing!

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