The Old Stray 

By Charlotte

There, in the park, dozing in the fresh autumn leaves 

lay a cat. A black little cat. He was a stray. A typical, 
unnamed stray.  
 
The stray enjoyed napping in the sun, attempting to 
catch birds, and raiding the dumpster outside the 
restaurant.  
 
It had not been long before it started to rain. The stray 
trotted under the slide in the playground. He had 
never been there before, but he thought it may be 
useful as shelter.  
 
The sky roared in utter frustration. Bolts and flashes of 
light shot down from the raging clouds. It got darker 
by the second.  
 
The poor stray cowered under the slide. The ground 
was getting thicker with water, and that stray quickly 
found himself dumbfounded. With no other choice, 
and at risk of drowning, he fought the thick puddles 
and clambered onto a balcony, which was attached to 
an apartment.  
 
 
  

He cried and whined and meowed. He didn’t know if 

anyone was home. Thick droplets of water fell on his 
head. He was about to give up, when the door opened. 
That’s when he knew that he had found his special 
place.  
 
:)