Who got two extra credit points for awesomeness? <-- This girl!

So that short story I posted in GenFic a few weeks back, I finally got back from my English professor yesterday and although I hadn't expected any grammar corrections, I thought maybe I would get something marked off for structure or for having a run=on sentence or three. But lo and behold- a 12/10 was written in bright green at the top with an arrow ( <-- ), and the words "For being extra awesome! You are a talented writer!"

I know it isn't much because it's still early in the semester and I have plenty more opportunities to change my professors mind, but hey, it's not every day I'm told I'm talented- about anything- and that just made my week!
I don't want this to come off as bragging, that's not what I intentioned at all. I just wanted to share my joy and enthusiasm for a job well done. And had it not been for the corrections mentioned in my thread post on my short story, I would have surely gotten less than a perfect score. So thank you, Prettyprettyprettygood, Miss Jackson, Flowerfairy, Whizp, and jimr for all your input, opinions, suggestions and corrections.

And here's what I turned in:


Kitty Kitty’s Lunch

“Hmm, I wonder what’s for lunch today,” the cat chuffed to itself as it lightly padded down the shingles of the roof to the edge of the gutter. It looked around, noting the layout of its surroundings. Children were playing in a nearby pool, the bright aqua water reflecting white-hot glints of light. The buzz of an air conditioning unit clicked on, the noise loud enough to momentarily silence the cicadas. A short moment later, the insects chirped and whirred, rejoining in their cacophony. A fence, less than a leap away from where the cat was perched, wobbled as something landed on it. The cat looked right, then left, quickly picking out what had disturbed the fence. A red and beige squirrel sat atop one of the fence posts, idly nibbling at the little morsel in its tiny hands. The cat’s pupils expanded in keen interest.

“Bingo,” the cat softly chortled, black whiskers fanning out. Its hind legs bunched and released, leaping from gutter to fence with a smooth, graceful landing. The motion caused the squirrel to go still, the tip of its tail twitching slightly.

“Decide quickly, tasty tree-climber; am I a threat? Will I eat you? Please think me harmless…” The cat’s orange tipped tail lowered as its shoulders see-sawed and its hind end wiggled, preparing to launch itself at the squirrel. The squirrel’s nose twitched at the air, the little bit of food in its paws forgotten, as the cat sat waiting, calculating. A man walking his dog approached, the leash jingling in time to the dog’s happy trot, its tongue lolling with saliva dripping from its mouth. The squirrel looked away from the cat, as if to say ‘You are no longer the bigger threat.’ Upon sighting the cat, the dog charged the fence, barking its strange language at them in excitement, sending the squirrel scurrying away in fright.

“Damn it!” the cat hissed. It leapt across the fence line after the squirrel; up one tree and down another, from limb to limb, they jumped from branch to roof to branch again. It was a race, one in front of the other, both fighting for survival. The fluffy, rust colored tail of the squirrel bobbed frenetically, almost within clawing distance of the cat’s lethal paws. The cat strove for a faster pace, stretching its legs out, taking longer strides as it sprinted across and over, down and under, up and after the squirrel. Faster the squirrel went, ever faster the cat gained. One foot, ten inches, six inches, and-

“Yeeeowwl!” the cat screeched, forced to skid to a halt on a tar-papered roof, the small grains digging into the cat’s paws. The squirrel, with its nimble acrobatics, sprang from roof to roof, one higher than the last, too far for the cat to follow. The cat, angry at its abrupt change of plans, paced at the edge, wondering if jumping after the squirrel would be worth the trouble. The cat’s sides heaved, out of breath from the high speed chase, its tail snapped to and fro in agitation. The squirrel blinked at the cat, and with the tip of its tail flapping as if to wave ‘goodbye’, disappeared into another tree.

“Damned tree climber!” the cat growled before turning back the way it had come. Returning to the roof of the home where the chase had begun, the cat sat once more, waiting for lunch to creep, scuttle, or crawl by. Several minutes later, seeming to sunbathe, a noise caught the cat’s attention. It looked over the gutter’s edge in curiosity. A little girl dressed in yellow, stood looking up at the cat, holding out a small dish. The cat could smell, even from its high perch that she was offering tuna.

“For me?” the cat warbled in question, slinking from roof to fence, landing on all fours a few feet from the little girl. The cat circled, and curling its tail around her ankle, bumped its head against her shin.

“Hey there, Kitty Kitty, I brought you lunch!” The child placed the bowl of tuna on the ground with a flourish of her dimpled hand. The cat trotted to the dish and purred in exultant bliss, eating its favorite of all fish. The little girl petted its ears, running her hands along its sleek back. It curled its tail around her chubby little finger in response to the girl’s attentions. The cat purred louder, whiskered cheeks puffing in a kittenish smile.
“Mmm, lunch… Finally!”