The Kittens and the Cardboard Box (or Why Cats Can't Have Nice Things)

Once there were two kittens, a sister and brother named Licorice and Allsort. They lived in a comfortable little house with their pet human James, who doted on them, lavishing them with cuddles and kitty treats when they were good, yet also being firm and telling them off when they caused trouble. Since they knew of their cuteness and its effect on him, with their fluffy black-and-white fur as well as their large innocent eyes, they'd frequently use this to their advantage. When they knocked down houseplants, scratched the furniture, or got caught stealing food, they'd give him the most adorable looks they could, accompanied by trills and purrs. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't.

One day, they were napping in their favourite spots on the sofa when the telltale click of the key in the lock roused them. They trotted into the hallway, meowing as James came in as if to say "Where have you been?". He’d call his absences work, something he treated as important for some reason, but couldn't he stick around instead in case one of them suddenly had a craving for Dreamies? It wasn’t like they could steal them anymore, now he kept all treats in a locked cupboard. At the sight of the large cardboard box he carried, though, they sat and stared. The perfect place to play.

They followed him to the living room, where he set down the box on the floor. "I've got something for you," he said, leaning down and peeling off the tape, gesturing for them to stay back as they tried to climb inside. Cats were naturally curious, and they couldn't help but wonder of the box's contents. Several bags of treats? Comfy faux fur lined beds that were fun to scratch until the stuffing came out? A brand new cat tower for their pet to assemble as they meowed at him to work faster? When they saw what was inside, though, they gave identical blank stares of disappointment. Two bags, one of litter, one of that boring bland health food they were expected to live on. They glared up at James. Couldn't he at least have included a catnip mouse in there?

"Enough kibble to fill your bellies for a good while. Or not, considering the amount you eat," James said with a chuckle as he lifted the bags out and headed to the kitchen to store them. The cats peered into the now-empty box, their interest rekindling. The contents were secondary. Even if they'd been something better, nothing could compare to a cardboard box.

"Did you hear that?" Licorice pushed her brother aside with a sweep of her paw. "He got something for me! So move it!" Confident that James wouldn't overhear the taunt - cats, after all, communicated with each other mostly via body language, facial expressions and soft chattering noises - she leapt into the box, where she stretched out and purred. No toy, no bed, could measure up to this. There was nothing quite like the sense of comfort and security its walls gave, or its soothing papery smell.

Her enjoyment was short-lived. She yelped as Allsort barrelled inside, landing on her. "Oi, he was clearly talking to me, you dolt!" her brother shot back before biting her ear. Not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough to make a point.

Pawing at him, Licorice managed to push him off hard enough to flip the box onto its side. Both kittens tumbled out. Allsort crouched to jump back inside, but Licorice pinned him to the ground. He struggled, turning over with considerable difficulty and kicking her off of him. He darted back inside the upturned container, only for Licorice to chase him out.

“Now now, you two.” Footsteps creaked across the floorboards, and the kittens whirled around, putting on their best cute faces as they looked up at James. “No need to fight over it. It’s more than big enough for both of you.”

Big enough for both of them? What nonsense. Everyone knew no cardboard box, not even the largest, was big enough for more than one cat. The siblings turned their attention back to each other, with glares that could turn reduced lactose cat milk sour, and launched back into their brawl, each one scurrying in and out of the box until it turned the right way up from the momentum. Licorice, who was inside at the time, landed on her back in the most undignified way. So much for cats always landing on their feet. Of course, before she could right herself, Allsort jumped up and dive-bombed her.

The sound James made was something between a laugh and a groan. “If you play nicely and share,” he said, reaching in and pulling the kittens away from each other, “you may well get treats.”

At the word “treats”, the kittens’ eyes widened. Even so, it wasn’t enough to deter them. “Treats or not,” Licorice said, facing down Allsort once more, who reacted in kind. “I won’t let you steal my new toy!” Her rear end wiggled as she prepared her pounce, which only gave Allsort time to jump aside, causing Licorice to crash into the cardboard wall.

“Your new toy?” Allsort said as Licorice spun round. “I’m the toughest, so obviously I deserve it most, and if you don’t believe me, I’ll just have to prove it!” He launched himself at her again. Both felines wrestled in a tangle of paws, kicking and biting at each other, until it happened. The seams of the box gave way, and the kittens found themselves tumbling as the sides fell flat against the floor.

Shaking off their dizziness and blinking, Licorice and Allsort stared at the collapsed piece of cardboard.

“Now look what you’ve gone and done.” Shaking his head, James leaned down and picked up the broken box. “The only one who’s getting it now is the trash collector.”

Ignoring him, the kittens turned to each other and reassumed their fighting stances.

“That was your fault! You went and broke it!”

“No, you did! You’re going down!”

“Did not! And am not!”

“Did too! And are too!”

James tutted as he watched their standoff. “No need to look at each other like that. Maybe this will teach both of you a lesson – if you’re greedy, you’ll lose everything.”

***

Author's note: This is based on something that happened between my cat and my housemate's cat (both littermates) when they were kittens. The differences are the names, the appearances, and the owner's gender. After it happened, my housemate and I were talking about how it could be the plot of a children's story with an anti-greed moral, so I went ahead with it.