The Lost Kittens and the September Moon, Poppy

 

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September moon.

The twelve kittens had been whispering all week about the September moon. Not just any moon, but the big round one that looked—at least to them—like a wheel of cheese.

“Do you think the mice will come out?” asked Poppy, her eyes wide as saucers.

“They always do,” said Paulie, puffing his chest. “And this time, we’re going to need them.”

Because just last week, the kittens had their first real scare. A woman in a bright vest had walked too close to their row of forgotten Victorian houses. The kittens had ducked into shadows, hearts racing. They knew if people looked too closely, the pound might find them again. And none of them wanted that.

So the kittens hatched a plan. If they had to go to town for “design daycare” to keep safe, then they would make the most of it. They would decorate, they would create, and they would live boldly. But they also needed help—tiny paws that could carry spools of ribbon, balance teacups, or dust off shelves too high for kitten claws.

The mice, of course.

The September moon, they believed, was not just cheese but a calling card. It brought the mice out to nibble, to chatter, to scamper through streets without fear. And under that silver light, the kittens would make their offer:

“Be our helpers, our decorators, our friends. We’ll share the cake crumbs and strawberry milk. We’ll build something grand, even if the wallpaper peels.”

When night came, the kittens slipped into town together, tails high, fur still a little ragged but eyes glowing. They padded to the old fountain square, where the moon’s reflection made the water shimmer like glass.

And there, sure enough, the mice gathered. Dozens of them, whiskers twitching, noses pink, eyes bright.

The Lost Kittens didn’t hiss, and the mice didn’t scatter. Instead, they all sat quietly for a moment, watching the September moon.

Because in that glow, shabby didn’t matter. Fear didn’t matter. There was cheese in the sky, laughter waiting on crooked tables, and a secret pact between kittens and mice—to decorate the world, one crooked spoon and velvet ribbon at a time.

Lavender Moon Milk with Ice Chips ✨

🌙 Dessert of the Night

Lavender Moon Milk with Ice Chips ✨

A dreamy drink the kittens made just for the September moon. Creamy milk steeped with a whisper of lavender, poured over clinking ice chips. The cold sticks to your tongue, but it only makes the laughter sweeter.

Perfect for midnight tea parties, mouse meetings, or staring at the sky until you’re sure the moon is really made of cheese. 🧀💜

✨ Imagination Action:

Imagine you’re standing under the September moon with the kittens. The mice arrive—some shy, some bold. What would you ask them to help you decorate? A cake tower? A lace curtain? A chandelier of stars? Draw it, write it, or whisper it to the moon.