Ana was five years old, with curly hair that bounced when she ran and eyes as wide as the sky. One sunny morning, she found a tiny kitten hiding behind her garden bushes.
“Hello there,” Ana whispered, crouching down so she wouldn’t scare it. The kitten blinked up at her with big green eyes and let out a soft meow .
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Ana gently scooped the kitten into her arms. It was warm and fuzzy, like a blanket full of purrs.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
The kitten sneezed in reply.
“I’ll call you Miso,” said Ana. “Because you’re little and squishy like my soup.”
They played all over the backyard—Miso chasing leaves, Ana giggling as he pounced on them like they were monsters. She tried to hug him tightly, but Miso wriggled free and ran behind the tree.
“Wait!” Ana called. “I just want to hug you!”
Her mom came outside with a watering can. “Kittens don’t like tight hugs, sweetheart. They’re small and gentle. You have to be gentle too.”
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“Oh,” said Ana. “Like how I hold my baby doll?”
“Exactly,” smiled her mom.
Ana tiptoed to the tree and sat quietly. Miso peeked out from behind it.
“Come here, Miso,” she said softly. “I promise not to squeeze.”
Miso sniffed the air, then slowly padded toward her. This time, Ana reached out with just one finger and let Miso sniff her hand. He rubbed his head against her finger and purred.
“Yay!” Ana whispered. “We’re friends now.”
She learned how to stroke Miso gently, like brushing feathers, and how to let him come to her instead of grabbing. They played with a red ribbon, watching Miso leap and twist through the air like a flying leaf.
At the end of the day, Miso curled up in Ana’s lap and fell asleep.
“I love playing with you, Miso,” she said, smiling.
And even though Miso was already dreaming, Ana knew he loved her back.
