The New Kitten

When I was four my best friend Amy's family lived next door to us. One day she had an uncle over visiting and he told us that if we would each write a story, he would make them into a book for us. So I wrote (or actually dictated to him) The New Kitten  and Amy wrote (dictated) The Bunnies That Lived in the New House and the Sister Couldn't Find the House.  Her uncle took them and a couple of weeks later brought us both copies of our "book." The book consisted of our stories (hand-written by him on half-sheets of white paper) bound with brads between two pieces of light-blue card stock with the titles and our names (although slightly misspelled) written on the front. We were so excited!! We had written a book!

So without further introduction, I give you my very first "published" work:

The New Kitten

by Megan Dennis

There was once a little kitten who was born in a dark cosy closet and she lived with her mother and loved her mother so much and she was a little kitten and she played a lot. Her sister was bad to her. Sometimes she yelled at her. And then her mother told her not to come to the house because she was mean to her sister. Her dad was at work but he just worked to find food because there was no other work to go to. He had to stay a longer time but come home with a hundred food because there was a lot. Her dad brought a lot of food. Because winter was coming. They moved to a place that was bigger for winter. Her sister came back again and went to her old house but nobody was there and she was crying. Her sister was looking for them in their new house. Her sister found her playing in her new house. When her mom and dad went to work she played all by herself in the new house. The kitten was crying because she wanted her mother to feed her. The mother had a new baby. 

The End

Wow. What a literary masterpiece, huh? And really, the title of Amy's story could have been the title of my story...except that hers is about bunnies, not kittens. I'm not sure what we had against sisters, especially since neither of us had one yet at that point in time. And I promise, my parents DID feed me when I was four. And they DID NOT leave me at home alone to play by myself.

I better call my mom and let her know she may or may not get a call from social services.