Mister Timmikens Goes On an Adventure

Author's Note: This week's writing challenge was supposed to be Halloween-themed, but I just felt like I needed to write something cute and sweet this time. So like it or not, you're getting some Mister Timmikens today. I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to read it to your kids at bedtime tonight, and then at the end of the story you can ask them what they think the kittens' names are.

“Slow down!” Sara called after the black cat as he disappeared from view for the sixth time in ten minutes. “I’m not as agile as you are, I actually need to AVOID most of these obstacles.” Mister Timmikens meowed quietly from just ahead of her as she pushed a low branch out of her way. Once safely on the other side, she released the branch, allowing it to snap back into its original position behind her… forgetting that she, too, was being followed.

“Ouch! Sara, you did that on purpose!” her twin brother exclaimed as the branch smacked him right in the chin. It left him with several bright green leaves sticking out of his hair, and a very surprised spider clinging to his shoulder.

“I did not! Don’t be a baby. Come on, keep up, Steven!” She shouted back to him without even turning around, having briefly caught sight of a black tail vanishing behind a nearby shrub as Mister Timmikens leapt over it to reach the other side. 

The twins had been following Mister Timmikens for some time and were now nearly half a mile into the forest. Strictly speaking, Mister Timmikens was not their cat, he was a wandering soul who split his time between no fewer than six homes on their street. Everyone put up with his antics because he was very sweet with the children; he was very intelligent – even by cat standards, which are much higher than human standards; and he was an excellent mouser. Any house on the street that had a mouse or rat problem would find the rodents gone in just one or two days once Mister Timmikens decided to sleep there. 

For the last two days and nights, nobody in the neighborhood had seen Mister Timmikens. Some people were starting to worry that he may have been struck by a car on the main road at the end of their street. Others said he had simply decided to camp out under the stars since the weather had been clear lately. So Sara and Steven were overjoyed when they found him meowing for attention on their doorstep earlier that day. They tried to feed him, but he just stared at the bowl of tuna for a moment before kicking it over and resuming his loud meows. When they tried to pick him up to give him a hug and some chin-scratches, he jumped away and stood a few feet from them in the yard, meowing and walking in circles. He took three steps away, turned back to look at them and meowed again. When they didn’t move, he walked back up to Steven and dug a claw into the boy’s pants, tugging on them, and then started walking away again, meowing loudly and looking back over his shoulder at the twins. And then they finally got the hint and started following him.

Mister Timmikens led them out to the street, past all six houses on their block, turned the corner and walked right on past the next block as well. Then he sat at the edge of the forest and waited patiently for them to catch up with him before leading them into the woods. For the next quarter of a mile, he led them down a well-worn path that the kids frequently used as an alternative to riding their bicycles on the main road. Years of bicycle tires rolling through here had left some nice ruts in the soil, which would then fill with water whenever it rained. Fortunately it had been dry weather lately, so they could walk along the trail without getting their feet (or paws) wet. Eventually they came to a fork in the path, where turning left would lead to the parking lot behind the deli, and turning right would lead deeper into the woods. The right trail was much less traveled, barely more than a deer trail. And Mister Timmikens had led them to the right. The further in they went, the thicker the plant growth became.

“Mister Timmikens, are we almost there!?” Steven asked, exasperated at having just tripped over a gnarled tree root for the fifth time. The cat came out of the bush and walked around him in a circle, then darted through the shrub once more. And then stopped. Steven and Sara could see just the tip of his long black tail through a small gap between the leaves, twitching at them impatiently. 

Sara parted the shrub with her hands, breaking several of the smaller branches in the process. She gasped as she stepped through the bush and beheld the scene before her, so surprised that she stopped dead in her tracks – right in the middle of the bush. Steven, always known for being the clumsier twin, tripped over a piece of the bush and crashed into her from behind, causing both of them to fall forward out of the bush and then roll down a small hill. Mister Timmikens trotted gingerly after them, whacking Steven’s nose with his tail as he passed as if to say “next time, watch your step, you big clumsy oaf.” The cat took a few more steps and then sat, purring happily, and began cleaning his paws. 

Steven and Sara took a moment to untangle themselves, and then were very pleased to see the reason why Mister Timmikens had led them so far from home today. Beside Mister Timmikens, sprawled out on the soft earth, was a calico cat. And she was nursing a litter of four newborn kittens. Mister Timmikens was trying to look very nonchalant, but his loud purr indicated that he was, in fact, a very proud father. Sara couldn’t control herself and had to squeal with joy because the scene before her was so cute. Even Steven begrudgingly admitted (silently, and only to himself) that this was worth the adventure. He reached a hand out and patted Mister Timmikens on the head, saying, “Well done, old man. Well done, indeed.”

Sara stayed there with the cats, while Steven went back to the house. He returned 25 minutes later with a large cardboard box lined with several freshly laundered towels, the bowl of tuna that Mister Timmikens had previously rejected, a wide saucer, and a thermos of water. He laid out the food and water for the family of cats, who eventually nibbled on it a bit. And then he set out the box, fluffed the towels nicely, and tried to approach the calico and her kittens. She was a bit defensive though, until she saw Mister Timmikens rubbing against his leg and purring VERY loudly. Sara reached out and lifted Mister Timmikens into the box first, saying “See, darling, it’s okay. We won’t hurt you.” Only after Mister Timmikens poked his head up out of the box did the calico wander over to it and investigate it properly. Steven lifted her into the box, letting her check it out, as Mister Timmikens simply sprawled out lazily on top of one of the towel-pillows. Then the calico hopped out of the box, lifted her kittens by their scruff one at a time and placed them gently into the box. Then she hopped in with them. Steven and Sara placed the tuna and water in with them before gently lifting the box and taking the family of cats home with them. 

After that day, the calico and her four kittens made a permanent home with Sara and Steven and their family. Mister Timmikens was still a bit of a rambler, refusing to be tied down to one house, but he did spend more time there than he used to. Sara wanted to name the calico “Darling,” while Steven liked “Stephanie” for some reason. But the cat would only ever answer to “Darling” so that settled the matter. And they each got to name two kittens before they grew big enough to be separated from their mother, each being taken in by a different human family on their street. 

As the kittens got older, Mister Timmikens showed them how to hunt mice. And Darling showed them how to get extra attention from humans by jumping into their laps the moment they sit in a chair. And they lived happily ever after.