Tiny Cat Stories
Cat love in short form: miniature, reader-submitted cat stories of no more than 100 words.
My Special Ferals
It all started with one black cat at our apartment block.
My husband and I saw a cat and her kitten one morning, and we gave them some ham.
From that day on, and for the next six years, I fed the feral cats on our premises.
We endured many a dispute with the Body Corporate, but I persisted with feeding them.
We eventually built a home, and the remaining cats moved with us. They are now in paradise, and so well behaved. The love we have for these cats is priceless, and each one is a precious treasure.—Debbie Yunnie
Living with FIV
Stanley tested positive for FIV in 2017 at only three months old. The organization that brought him in had chosen to have him euthanized. Knowing that FIV is only transmittable through deep bite wounds and that it could be a false positive at that age, I took him home and retested him at six months. He was still positive, but I certainly didn’t care and neither did his other FIV positive brother, his FIV negative brother or his big canine sister. FIV is not a death sentence. Education saves lives! #fivpositivelyloved—Lauren Early
Parents teach us about life, but no one has taught me better than Chester.
At sixteen years old, my tuxedo Chester persists in his nightly ritual of slowly, methodically climbing his little cat stairs up to my bed to tuck me in. The ravaging effects of arthritis don’t stop Chester—it’s his self- appointed duty and he relentlessly follows through. He sits calmly by my head for ten minutes until he thinks I am asleep, then quietly retreats to his favorite napping spot in my closet. Such consistent love and devotion are rare, but not for my Chester.—Carolyn Kozlowski
We’d gone to the shelter that day to donate items in memory of the cat we’d recently lost, our handsome long-haired ginger. It was a bittersweet visit. Surrounded by the smell of pine cleaner and curious gaze of resident cats, we pet every one of them we could. We were leaving when a staff member told us there was one room we missed.
He went up to you right away, his round aqua eyes the most sincere and gentle I’d ever seen. He rubbed against your knee. You both looked at me, and I knew we were taking him home.—Melissa Hall Andela
During my early morning dog walk, I heard the faint squeals of a kitten. I followed the sounds and discovered Eve trapped in the sewer below, a tiny face looking up at me through the holes in the street grate. With the help of the NYPD, we got her out of there. She was drenched in motor oil and fit in the palm of my hand. As he handed her over, the officer asked, “what are you going to do now?” “Take her home and love her,” I replied. And I did, for 15 years until she passed away.—Christy Ann Coppola
Fred & George
Our cats, Fred and George, were added to our family when our two Dachshunds, Tilly and Willy, were in their senior years. Tilly began to go blind as she aged. She would wander in the yard unsure how to return to the house. Both cats learned to help Tilly find the house. They would go to Tilly and gently nudge her back to the house. After Tilly passed away, we allowed the cats to watch us bury her in the backyard. We would catch them sitting on her grave during the day. When Willy passed away, the same thing happened.—Monica Johnson
Suzy (née King Kong)
Suzy was our Siamese cat. She and her sister were acquired for my older brothers Jim and Steve. Steve, at three years of age, wanted to name his kitten King Kong, and our Mom “helped him” name his kitten Suzy. Suzy was our cherished housecat for 17 years. She had this strange habit of chewing on our Dad’s dress socks. She never wanted to chew on one of us kids’ socks, go figure! Suzy was a very intuitive cat. If you were upset about something, she instinctively knew to come near and sit next to you for your comfort.—Robin Carson
In-Office vs. Work-From-Home Assistant
Barnie is the best office assistant ever, except maybe for my in-office colleague Marilyn, who never meowed when I was on Zoom or pawed at my pants for attention. Barnie trots to my work-from-home office each morning, and, unlike Marilyn, curls up at my feet and, if it’s chilly, on my feet. Barnie leaves only to answer nature’s call or to snack, but she’s back in a flash. She doesn’t charge overtime. But unlike Marilyn, she’s lousy at tech support, and she doesn’t share office gossip. Plus, Marilyn doesn’t shed. If I had to choose one, I couldn’t.— Catharine Hamm
Reuben the Hero
I always knew Reuben was smart. I didn’t know just how smart.
I was about to switch on the drier, something I’d done many times before, but today Reuben jumped up and stopped me. I petted him and again put my finger on the “on” switch ready to press it.
Reuben stopped me again. I looked down and to my horror saw Filipos, my Greek rescue cat, looking through the glass in the drier. I quickly let him out.
Reuben saved Filipos’ life. He is a feline hero.—Rose Moss
Wish Upon a Star
Once there was a little girl who wanted a cat so much that she pretended her pillow was a cat. Everywhere she went she would carry her grey pillow with a white star. She talked to her pillow in her small, high pitched voice and saw her cat staring up at her. She petted her pillow and could hear her cat purring. Every night she wished with everything in her small, child heart for a cat. Then one morning she awoke, her head not on her pillow, but resting on a small, grey cat with a white star.—Heidi Jones
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