Mia                                                                     Maddie, 6^th grade

Having a cat is not unusual. Almost everybody has one, unless you’re allergic or something. So it wasn’t strange when my family decided we wanted one. Well, maybe my dad, my sister and I wanted one. My mom didn’t. But that didn’t stop us from trying to convince her. She hated the hairs that an animal shed. She complained that they got all over everything, creating piles of fur. We tried to break her and turn her to our side, and so far we had been successful. But we hadn’t made the move to get one yet. We had, at the time, a Labrador dog and a small bunny. So maybe a cat wasn’t the right thing for us. Dog would chase it, and the bunny would get eaten. But none the less, we wanted one. And the chance came to us to get one, on September 20^th, some four or three years ago.

            September 20^th isn’t just any ordinary day in our family. It’s my sister, Emily’s, birthday. So we were eating cake and what not when someone knocked at our door. We recognized the young teenager immediately. He wasn’t our neighbor. He was our neighbor’s grandson. He and his family members frequently stopped by the elderly couple next door for holidays or weekends. Mostly weekends.

            My father answered the door, and welcomed him in.

            “How are you?” My dad asked and closed the door.

            “Just fine, thanks,” our guest said. He smiled at us. “I wanted to stop by to ask you guys if you wanted a cat.” Emily glanced up at our mom, who looked surprised be his offer.

            “A cat?” asked my mom, eyebrows raised.

            “Yeah,” he said, “My friends and I were ridding bikes one day and came across a litter of kittens. We couldn’t just abandon them, so we took them home. So far we’ve been able to give away some of them, but we’ve still got quite a few.”

            “And you’re offering one of them to us?” asked my dad.

            “Yeah, sure. Or more, if you want.” He said. My dad looked at my mom, who looked at us. My dad was smiling, my mom frowning.

            “I want one,” I said excitedly.

            “Me too,” Emily agreed. My mom didn’t look like she wanted one. Her nose wrinkled and she slowly shook her head.

            “No…” she started, but my father interrupted.

            “Sounds great!” he said and ignored my mother annoyed look. “Do you have it here? I mean, at your grandmothers house?” Our friend nodded.

            “I can go get it for you, if you want,” he offered. Dad nodded.

            “Go get it,” Dad said, and he left. After the door shut, my mom turned to us.

            “I don’t want a cat,” she said, hands on her hips.

            “Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeseeeeeeeeee?” asked Emily, dragging the word out longer then she should. My mother winced, probably imagining all the hair.

            “It would shed! A lot!” my mom said.

            “Oh, come on,” my dad said, “its Emily’s birthday. She wants a cat.” Emily made the puppy dog face. My mother’s nose wrinkled again.

            “Well, I don’t know…” she said.

            “Pleeeeeeeeeeesssssseeeeeeee?” Emily and I said together. My mom sighed, the nodded. “For Emily’s birthday.” She said, as if under any other circumstances it wouldn’t ever happen.

            “Sweet!” I cried just as our neighbor’s grandson walked in.

            “Here’s one of them,” he said and held up a small black cat the size of two of my hands. “If you don’t like this one, there’s lots more over there.”

            “Awwwwwww!” Emily said and jumped from her seat to pet it. He handed the cat over to her and she cradled the cat in her arms. I saw my mother frown.

            “Black hair…” I heard her say to herself. “That’ll show up on anything…”

            “I think this one’s a girl,” the teenager said.

            “I want this one,” Emily said, mater-of-factly. Dad smiled.

            “It’s perfect then! Can we take it?” he asked. Our neighbor nodded.

            “Take it! And thanks!” he called and left.

            “Thank you!” I said back. He went out the door and we were left with the cat.

            “What should we call her?” Emily asked, still petting the cat. I thought up names in my head. Lily, Rachel, Midnight, Blackie; the list went on and on. But really I wanted it to be a girl.

            “How about something French?” Dad asked. “French is always really pretty.” Emily shook her head. “No,” she said, “I want to call her something that I’ll remember without even thinking about it. Something that we always have on our minds.” I closed my eyes in thought. The thing I was always thinking about was my friends. Games and stuff. Games, tricks, and sports. Particularly soccer. Hmm. Maybe the name of a famous soccer player. Like…Mia Ham?

            “Mia,” I said, “let’s call her Mia, after Mia Ham?” Everyone agreed. Mia would stay with us.

~*~*~*~

            The name I picked stuck. Everyone loved it. After a few days, we decided that it was time to take Mia to the vet. So Emily, my dad, and I got in our car and drove to the local vet. He was very welcoming, and we got along great.

            He checked for fleas, and found none. Mia was apparently in great shape. Mia got a few shots with some grooming as well. She looked great.

            “Well, this was a good check-up,” dad said and gave Mia to Emily.

            “Yes, it’s quite rare that you find a cat in that great shape on the street,” the vet complemented us. “So remember to brush him daily, and to feed him the softer kind of food when he’s still young.” I looked at Emily. She looked just as confused as I was. Did the vet say “he?” My dad frowned.

            “Him?” he asked.

            “Yes, he’s going to be a troublemaker as a young cat, but having a cat is worth it.” The vet smiled at us.

            “Mia’s a he?” Emily asked.

            “You mean your cat? Why, yes, he’s a boy,” said the vet. Oh, no. Mia was a boy? So much for the name.

            “Well, that’s not too good,” my dad said laughing, “We thought he was a girl! We named him Mia. And I don’t think we can switch it back. We’re all too stuck to it.” Emily and I nodded. The vet rubbed his chin.

            “Now, that’s a strange case isn’t it?” he and my dad laughed, but I didn’t find anything funny about it.

            “I don’t want to change his name,” Emily said, “I like it.”

            “But you can’t call a boy a girl name, can you?” I said almost to myself. That’s when I got it.

            “Let’s call him ‘Mr. Mia!’” I said. My dad shrugged.

“Doesn’t sound bad,” he said. Emily smiled at me.

            “Cool,” she said.

            “Mr. Mia it is!” cried the vet, “Perfect!” And then handed us the bill. Dad’s shoulder’s slumped.

            “You’d better appreciate Mr. Mia,” he said. I laughed and knew I would.

The End