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Clara was the smallest kitten in the litter. She was grey-striped with pink paw pads and ears that always tilted just a little the wrong way. She lived in the old barn with her mother, her three siblings, and lots of animals – all of whom believed their spot in the barn was the very best.
But Clara could never find just the right place to sleep.
The straw scratched behind her ear. The hay in the rack poked her nose. Her siblings took up space, pushed her around, and lay on her tail. And the chickens? They clucked even in their sleep!
One night, as the moon peeked through a crack in the barn door, Clara got up and stretched as long as she could.
“I’m going to find the very best place to sleep!” she whispered to herself and slipped out into the barn.
First, she tried lying under the goat bench. But Hugo the Goat poked her with his tail and snored like a saw.
“Hmm,” thought Clara. “Not here.”
Then she climbed onto the tractor seat. It was nice and high with a good view. But the seat was as hard as a rock, and the oil smelled like something cats shouldn’t smell.
“No thanks,” said Clara and jumped down again.
In the chicken coop, she tried curling up between two hens, but they immediately woke up, started clucking, and waddled around in confusion.
“It’s just ME,” whispered Clara, but she was pushed out of the henhouse in a feather storm of offended hens.
At last, Clara tiptoed over to the big cow Frida, who lay in her stall chewing cud in the semi-darkness. She rumbled softly and turned her big head when Clara appeared.
“Good night,” said Frida in her deep voice.
“Excuse me,” Clara said carefully. “I’m looking for a place to sleep… but not just any place. It has to be the RIGHT one.”
Frida raised an eyebrow. “Have you tried under me?”
Clara looked a bit confused. “Under… you?”
“It’s warm,” said Frida. “It smells a bit like cow, yes, but it’s quiet, the straw is soft, and I won’t roll over you. I promise.”
Clara sniffed a little and carefully crawled under Frida’s big warm belly. It was dark. It smelled… well, like cow. But in a strangely comforting way. She lay down, and a warmth spread through her whole body – not just on the outside, but inside too.
“This,” mumbled Clara, “this is the best place in the whole barn.”
Frida rumbled contentedly. “It’s the warm place. Not for just anyone, but you had the patience to find it.”
Clara yawned deeply, tucked her paws underneath herself, and sighed. She fell asleep to the sound of Frida’s calm belly bubbling like a distant drum.
The next morning, when Clara tiptoed back to the haystack, her siblings woke up and giggled.
“You smell like a COW!” said Miv.
“But you look happy,” said Mis.
“And you didn’t snore last night!” said Mav.
Clara curled up in the straw and smiled to herself.
She had found the warm place.
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