Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: FINISH (05/26/16)
TITLE: A Tail of Two Kitties
By Leola Ogle
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Some might think by the names, they were all girls, but Peony was the brother. He pretended his name was Pony – for no male of any species would want to be called Peony. He spent his days ignoring his sisters, especially the bratty Daisy.
Tulip, the oldest, was practical, responsible, and in charge. Daisy was feisty, finicky, and fun-loving. She was the prettiest of the litter. A mixture of many colors, it was her tail that drew attention. It had hues not seen in other felines. Copper, gold, silver, and an unusual shade of turquoise blended in an array that rivaled great artists. It was full and fluffy, and larger than her body.
Daisy was a starter, but not a finisher, because she was easily distracted and got bored quickly. Daisy got away with many things in the household because of her tail. Tulip had a practical tail designed for the purpose God intended for felines. She frequently used her tail to thump the mischievous Daisy on the head. Why was it her responsibility to clean up the messes left from Daisy starting but not finishing something?
Daisy would play with the ball of yarn, then run off to chase a fly, leaving the yarn in the middle of the floor to trip Mistress. But why chase a fly when the butterfly outside the window was more appealing? Although the butterfly could not compare to the mysteries of the bird in the tree. Daisy climbed the tree to get the bird, but quickly forgot why she climbed the tree and meowed to be rescued.
Because Daisy was a starter, not a finisher. She didn’t care that Tulip pointed this out repeatedly. She was beautiful – or, at least her tail was beautiful. Everyone loved her and overlooked her antics as adorable quirks. She was even Mother Cat’s favorite. The siblings groomed their own tails, but Mother groomed Daisy’s tail. Daisy would start, but got bored and never finished grooming.
Because Daisy was a starter, not a finisher. She knew, but didn’t care because she was the pampered favorite.
Summer came and the mistress of the house had three nieces come to visit. The kittens purred and strutted, but it was Daisy the girls squealed over. Oldest soon got annoyed with Daisy’s antics. Middle decided Daisy was cute, but messy. Youngest adored Daisy because they were just alike.
Mistress wanted the nieces to learn, so she created projects for them. Painting, writing, sewing, needlecraft, and crocheting. The nieces were rewarded with a treat for finishing each project.
Youngest never finished a project. She would slip away to play with Daisy. She laughed when Daisy spilled milk from a saucer and tracked milky paw prints across the floor. The two found all sorts of mischief to get into. Mistress would glare, cross her arms and tap her foot. Tulip would circle Daisy with her tail swishing in annoyance.
The day came when Mistress had enough. She promised the nieces she would take them to the county fair once they finished their projects. But of course, Youngest didn’t care. She was off getting into shenanigans with Daisy.
Everyone was angry with Youngest. “Fine,” she huffed, stomping into the den with her project in hand. An hour later she emerged, scissors in one hand and her needlecraft in the other. She thrust her needlepoint at Auntie Mistress. “I finished. Can we go now?”
“Oh, my! This is stunning, my dear.” Mistress gazed with wide eyes at the intricate masterpiece. “Where did you get such marvelous threads?” The needlepoint picture of flowers had hues of copper, gold, silver, and an unusual turquoise.
Tulip purred and rubbed against Mistress’s leg, her tail pointed straight up and gently swaying. She then turned, tail pointing and nose twitching. Mistress would later swear that Tulip actually grinned, a large Cheshire grin.
Mistress and Tulip watched as Daisy slunk across the floor, head bowed and tail – with all the fur clipped off – tucked between her legs. She hid behind the sofa and her pitiful mewls could heard all over the house.
** No kittens were hurt in the telling of this tale. Except, of course, Daisy’s pride.
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