Oliver felt a light tap on his shoulder and heard an excited shriek of, “You’re it, Oliver!”
He turned around, purring in amusement, and streaked after his black tabby friend. “I’ll get you, Leah!” he called after her, and reached out with an attempt to strike her tail, but failed miserably, tripping over his own front paws and landing flat on his fluffy white face. “Oomph!”
“Ha ha! Can’t catch me!” Leah meowed, now very much ahead of him. Oliver got up, shaking his head, and ran after her once again.
“Be quiet, kittens!” called Leah’s aunt, Krystal. Oliver looked over at her. She was basking in what little warmth there was from a patch of sunlight. He flicked his whiskers in annoyance. All she ever did was lie around and make him do things he didn’t want to. She wasn’t even related to him! She just lived with him. But he sighed heavily and tried to keep his voice down, anyway.
Oliver suddenly realized that he couldn’t see Leah anymore. She must have hidden while he wasn’t looking! He narrowed his green eyes, crouching down, and opening his mouth so he could catch her scent more easily. He followed her smell, reaching the side of the house near a prickly evergreen bush. He poked his head underneath it carefully, flattening his ears so they didn’t get clawed by its sharp prickles, and spotted her vivid emerald eyes staring back at him not even two inches away. “Ha! Found you!” He thrusted his head forward some, his nose bopping hers. “You’re it now!”
“No fair!” Leah meowed, but Oliver was already bounding away. It’s totally fair! he thought. He ran around the house once, reaching the side with the evergreen bush again only to see Leah waiting there for him. Oliver squealed as she shot at him, whipping around and running again. He skidded to a stop, panting, in front of Krystal. To his (only slight) surprise, she was fast asleep, snoring softly.
Oliver felt Leah run into his back. Before she could yell at him that he was tagged, he hissed, “Shh! Krystal’s sleeping!” He turned around to face her quizzical look. “We should go explore!” the tom kitten looked pointedly over the white picket fence just a couple yards away. It was about sunset now, and the orange-red light illuminated everything, making things have a slightly different look. “Come on,” he mewed hopefully, bounding towards the fence.
“Wait!” Leah called after him, her voice hissy. “We can’t go. What if Krystal wakes up? What if something happens to us? What if-”
“Shush up!” Oliver meowed, trying to keep his voice low. “Just come on. It’ll be fine! And I’ll just go without you if you don’t want to come.”
Leah hesitated, laying her ears back a little and scuffing her paws in the dirt. “Well… okay. But if anything happens, it’s your fault! Remember that!”
Oliver put his tail up excitedly, pricking up his velvety white ears. “Yay! Come on, then!” He ran toward the fence, Leah not far behind, and the two little kittens scrabbled over it, their claws scraping down the snow-colored paint to keep themselves from falling. When Oliver reached the very top, he balanced himself carefully on the fence, then launched himself into the brownish grass. Leah came after him.
“Alright, where are we going?” Leah asked him, giving him a look, once they were both safely on the ground.
“Well, I don’t know… I’ve never been out here before,” Oliver admitted. He looked around himself. In front of him was a black paved road, and street signs and houses were everywhere. He sniffed the air. Even though he had smelled these scents before, they excited him much more now that he was out. The air almost seemed fresher, and the scents of cars, people, squirrels, rabbits, other cats, and more flooded his nose and mouth. Without saying anything else to Leah, he began to prance to the left, staying just on the edge of the street.
“Where are we going?” Leah repeated.
“I don’t know,” Oliver replied, not stopping his springy steps down the road. Leah didn’t say anything else. Oliver just let himself enjoy this new adventure, sniffing the air every few feet and turning his head toward every tweet of a bird, every bark of a dog, eyes wide and excited.
Soon, Oliver heard several loud woofs and howls. He pricked his ears toward the sound, looking in the direction it was coming from. He spotted a huge black dog, jumping against a metal fence and barking at them viciously. “Let’s go over there!” Oliver whispered loudly to Leah. She didn’t say a word, just followed her friend to the fence.
The dog’s eyes were filled with an excited gleam. Oliver smirked at it, narrowing his eyes, and strutted in front of the animal, tail held high and stiff. “Ha ha!” he yowled. “You can’t get us, you big, mangy, black dungface!” He looked at Leah, who was just standing there, staring at him and the dog. “Come on, Leah!” he yowled.
“No thanks,” Leah responded. “I’d rather not, to be honest.”
“Your loss,” Oliver purred, going back to teasing the canine behind the fence. He stuck his bottom only inches from the fence, flitting his tail near the dog’s nose. It growled, reaching a paw through the fence and swiping at his tail with big white claws. Oliver moved it away easily.
“Nu-uh-uh!” he mewed. “Can’t do that, you big turd!”
The dog growled lower, moving its paw back inside. “I get stinky cats!” it howled, to Oliver’s astonishment. Dogs can speak cat? How?
But he shook it out of his mind. I guess it must be normal, he thought, trying to convince himself. “No you won’t!” he shot back, giving it a wide grin. He went back to strutting in front of the animal, teasing it with his tail and gleefully taunting it with insults.
“Oliver, I think you should stop now,” Leah hissed, a tinge of anxiety in her voice.
Oliver looked at her. “What? Why?” He heard more fence-shaking noises behind him, but figured it was only the dog trying to push it down again. He noticed that Leah’s eyes were no longer quite on him, but behind him.
And they were filled with terror.
“Oliver… run!” Leah shouted.
All of a sudden, Oliver felt a hot breath right on his heels and heard a furious growling. He whipped around to see the dog’s darkly-colored face right in front of his own. Oliver froze in fear. The dog opened its jaws and snapped them not even an inch away from his head, then snarled. Behind him, Leah screamed, and not long after he glimpsed a streak of gray and black out of the corner of his eye.
Before he could react, Leah was on top of the dog’s head, clawing at its ears and trying to get its eyes. Forgetting about Oliver, it howled in pain and stood up, shaking its head swiftly in panic, its clawed-up, floppy black ears swinging around. Leah screeched and was thrown off of it, hitting the hard road with a light thump.
Oliver wailed in horror and ran over to her. Leah was already recovering, trying to get up. She managed to stand, but was wobbly on her paws. Her fur was spiked now, and her tail and grown to twice its size. Oliver suddenly felt something grab onto his back and fling him around. Sharp teeth were closed around him, and he was soon dizzy. He closed his eyes. Is this my end? Some stupid dog is going to kill me? he thought. He knew it was hopeless, though. There was no way he’d be able to get out of the dog’s mouth.
And then, he was on the ground. He let out a weak cry and looked up to see Leah clinging to the dog’s face once again. The dog was desperately trying to get her off, and banged its head on the ground, making her release her grip. It grabbed her like it had with Oliver. Before Oliver could do anything, it threw her at a tree as hard as it could, and she hit it head first, then flopped onto the ground. Then it looked back at Oliver.
Oliver close his eyes and tried to stop breathing so heavily, trying to pretend he was dead so that – just maybe – the dog would leave, thinking it was done with its revenge.
He laid there for what seemed like forever to him, and finally opened his eyes. To his relief, the dog was gone. He got up, his head spinning, and padded over to Leah. She didn’t have many visible injuries, but her eyes were closed and her breaths were quick and short. He put his paw on her and murmured, “Leah? Are you okay?” but got no response.
I have to get help, he thought anxiously. With a plan in his head (that he hadn’t really put much thought into), he grabbed her by the scruff and used every bit of strength he had to lug her up the tree she had hit, then draped her as gently as he could over a big branch that he was sure she wouldn’t fall off of. Then he climbed back down.
This is all my fault, just like she said it would be, Oliver thought. He flattened his ears and began to run down the street, yowling for help. He ran until he was panting heavily, which wasn’t for too long, since he was already so tired. It was pretty dark out by now. He figured it was starting to get late.
Finally, he was close to his own home. He could just imagine the inviting warmth of the fireplace against his fur… Maybe he could get help there, too. Or maybe Krystal would scold him and keep him there. She probably wouldn’t know what to do, anyway. He turned around and, to his astonishment, a long-haired, pure white tomcat was standing there, his deep blue eyes gazing right back at Oliver calmly.
“Can you help me?” Oliver begged. “My friend got hurt by a dog. She was thrown at a tree on her head and now she won’t wake up! I think she’s going to die!”
The tomcat was silent for a moment, unmoving. Not even a fur on him twitched. Finally, he said, “What is your name? You know that tonight is Christmas Eve, right? Should you and your friend be bundled up at home, sleeping and waiting for Santa Claws and his reincats?”
Oliver nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know. But I just wanted to explore for the first time ever. Could you help me, please? I don’t have time to listen to somebody scolding me!” He tried to look as desperate as he possibly could.
The cat looked grim. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. I don’t know much about healing and I don’t have enough Christmas Magic.”
Oliver was puzzled by this. “Christmas Magic? What?”
The cat smiled a little. “All the reincats have a little Christmas Magic. It’s what makes them fly. I was a reincat, once, too, hundreds of years ago. Now I’m just an old, traveling feline. I can still fly, but I’m just too old for such work.” He looked solemn again. “I can tell you how you can help your friend, though.”
“How?” Oliver meowed hopefully.
The cat was quiet again, making Oliver get squirmy. Come on, cat, please just tell me, he thought. I don’t have forever!
“Well, you know Santa Claws, of course, right?”
“Of course!” Oliver replied.
“Well, he also has Christmas Magic. Enough to do nearly anything. I doubt your friend had much time left, though, so you have to find him quickly. He’ll be able to save her. He’s probably around here by now. If I were you, I’d try to track him down and ask him for help. Hurry, though – he’s pretty quick. He has to be to get all those catnip toys and jingle balls all around the world in a night! I’ve been a reincat long enough to know that!” The tomcat smiled kindly. “What are you waiting for? Go on, then, kitten!”
“Thank you, Sir,” Oliver meowed with gratitude. But, deep inside, he was doubting himself. How in the world was he, a little white kitten, going to find Santa Claws? He didn’t even know what he looked like! After all, this was only his first Christmas. But he had to try. From what he’d heard from other cats, he came in a big, red, jingling sleigh pulled by nine reincats, one of which in the lead with a bright red nose. He also said, “Ho, ho, ho!” a lot.
“You’re welcome, kitten,” the tomcat replied. “Hurry!”
Oliver turned around and began to run. He had to spot Santa Claws. Where could he be, though? Was he going to be lucky enough to find him? Had he stopped by his house already? He ran to his house and looked through the window to see the big green Christmas tree, illuminated by both colored and white lights and sparkling with silver and gold garlands and ornaments. He squinted, trying to peer closer, and noticed that there were gifts under the tree that hadn’t been there before.
“He’s been here,” Oliver said out loud. With that known, he went on running, hoping that he wasn’t going the wrong way. As his paws pounded in the dry grass and on the road, he prayed that Leah was still okay. Could she have woken up? He doubted it, but he found himself hoping she had. He just had to find Santa Claws.
And, suddenly, he could hear a beautiful tinkling noise above his head.
Oliver looked up to see the sight he had been hoping for so much. A red sleigh was being pulled along in the air by the nine reincats. He could see a bright red glow right in front of the lead reincat. The bells were getting louder, and the sleigh was going down a little.
Oliver forced himself to gain speed. “Help me! Help me, Santa Claws!” he screeched. The sleigh didn’t slow, though. He continued screeching for help, struggling to stay under it. He made himself go even faster and inched in front of it. Oliver then streaked to the side, toward a tan-colored house. Going as fast as he could, he used his claws – which were pretty sore by now, already – to scrabble up the building. It was definitely a challenge, and it took longer than he wanted it to.
But, eventually, he got to the roof. Not letting himself look down, he ran across the sideways surface, and leaped off the edge to the next house. He continued to do this, nearly loosing his footing a couple of times, but managing to come back fine. Soon, he had regained his place just below the sleigh, and was much closer. Ahead, he could see a higher roof. Just high enough to get on the sleigh, maybe? He could try. And he did.
When he reached the house just before it, Oliver launched himself in the air as hard as he could. He made it, scrambling on top of the roof, and without wasting any time, he turned toward the sleigh and leaped at it.
And, then, he was dangling off the edge of the slick gold-and-red sleigh, with barely a pawhold on it.
Oliver let out an ear-splitting screech. “Help me!” he wailed. Santa Claws looked directly at him, his eyes wide with shock.
“Hold on!” the big white cat said. “Slow down, reincats!” he yowled to the ones pulling the sleigh. He slid to the side toward Oliver. Oliver accidentally let go with one paw. Overwhelming terror welled up inside of him. What an interesting way to die, he thought. Better than being mangled by a dog, though. He screwed his eyes shut, getting ready for the inevitable fall.
He felt something close around his scruff. He was being lifted. Or was he falling? There was air whooshing all around him. Maybe Santa Claws was falling with him. Yes, he probably grabbed onto him and fell over as well. He felt the urge to open his eyes, but resisted. He didn’t want to see his death. Or Santa Claws’.
“You can open your eyes now, Oliver.”
Oliver opened his eyes. He was laying in front of the most interesting cat he had ever seen. Now that he was no longer terrified for his life, he could take in what he saw a little better. A large, handsome white cat sat before him. His eyes were a beautiful sky-blue, and (the weirdest thing about him) his pure, snow-colored fur literally had a soft white glow around it. He had a kind look about him. Oliver had never seen anything like it. “How do you know my name?” was all he could whisper.
“I know everyone’s names, young one,” Santa Claws replied. “Now, may I ask, why were you so determined to get on my sleigh?”
“Well, you see, my best friend, Leah, was injured badly by a dog. She might be dying. I met an old reincat of yours who told me that you could help. Can you? Please? I know it might slow you down a little…” Oliver meowed, sitting up.
“Ho ho ho! Ol’ Arrow, I bet it was! Anyway, where is she?” Santa Claws replied. As he spoke, the shiny silver bell on his red-and-green collar jingled. “I may be able to help her.”
“Back the other way in a tree not far from my house. If you fly a little lower, I’ll probably be able to point it out to you,” Oliver mewed.
“Alright, reincats!” Santa called out loudly. “Turn around, and go low!”
With agreeing yowls as a response, the nine reincats turned around with ease and went back the other way.
As they flew, Oliver gazed below the sleigh, trying to pick out the tree. Eventually, they passed his own house. He stared harder. And, soon, there it was.
“It’s right there!” Oliver yowled. “Please land!”
“Land here, reincats!” Santa Claws yowled out to them. They obeyed quickly, and landed on the ground with surprising ease. As soon as they stopped, Oliver leaped out and ran to the tree. He scrambled up. Sure enough, Leah was still there, but still not awake. Oliver grabbed her by the scruff and brought her down by skidding and clawing his way down backwards, which was quite difficult. But, soon, he had her laying in front of Santa Claws.
Santa Claws sniffed her over, poking and prodding her gently with a paw and his nose. “Can you save her?” Oliver begged.
“I believe so, young one,” the great white cat replied. The reincats, by now, had gathered around as well. Rudolph’s bright red nose was blinking like he was excited. None of them dared to say a word as Santa Claws sat on his hind legs and lightly placed his paws on Leah’s side. He closed his eyes.
Oliver held his breath.
Leah opened her eyes. Santa Claws removed his paws and backed away a bit, allowing her to stand up and gaze quizzically at them all. “What happened?” she meowed. To Oliver’s astonishment, she looked and sounded perfectly fine.
“How did you do that?” he whispered to Santa Claws.
“Christmas Magic,” Santa Claws replied simply.
Oliver ran up to Leah and covered her with excited licks. “You’re okay! Santa Claws saved you!” he purred in joy. Leah licked him back, purring.
“Okay,” she meowed, sounding slightly confused. “Was it that dog?”
“Yes,” Oliver replied. “You were unconscious. I found Santa Claws and he used his magic to save you. I’m not kidding.”
Leah looked behind him. “Hey, where is he?” she meowed.
Oliver looked behind himself as well. Sure enough, the entire sleigh was gone. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “I never even got to thank him.” The two stood there for a little while, looking around where he had disappeared. Suddenly, Oliver spotted a shiny, glittering thing on the ground. He went up to it and saw that it was a bottle filled with a shimmering substance that was even more sparkly than glitter.
Oliver pawed at it, and it rolled a tiny bit, revealing a slip of paper with something written on it. He peered closer to read what it said. (Most cats can read, you know. It’s mostly because of the time they spend with people.)
A little bit of Christmas Magic – just in case something else happens on your adventures. Ho ho ho!
Merry Christmas,
Santa Claws
Oliver looked up at Leah with a smile. “Let’s go home now,” he purred. Leah nodded in agreement. Oliver picked up the bottle and the note, and off they went.
A Little Christmas Magic 