Mittens was a small, fluffy, white kitten. She was very, very soft and very, very cute. She lived in a big, red barn with her mother, who was the best mouse-catcher on the farm. 'Now, Mittens,' her mother would say every day, 'you are a kitten. And kittens are supposed to chase mice. It is a very important job.' Mittens tried. She would watch her mother crouch down low and be very, very quiet. 'You must be a good kitten. You must chase the mice,' her mother said.
Mittens wanted to be a good kitten. One day, she saw a tiny, little, grey mouse named Squeaky. Squeaky was nibbling a yummy, yellow kernel of corn. 'Okay,' Mittens whispered to herself. 'This is my job.' She crouched down low, just like her mother. She wiggled her fluffy white bottom. And... POUNCE! She leaped! But she was not very good at it. She pounced too short and landed in a pile of soft, warm hay. 'Oof!' she said.
The little mouse did not run away. He was not scared. He just dusted off his grey fur. 'Wow,' Squeaky the mouse said. 'That was a very funny jump. Are you okay?' Mittens sat up, surprised. 'You... you are not scared of me? I am a kitten! I am supposed to chase you!' Squeaky shrugged his tiny shoulders. 'You do not seem very scary,' he said. 'You seem... fluffy.' Mittens looked at the little mouse. He had kind, little eyes. 'Well,' said Mittens, 'you do not seem very chase-able. You seem... nice.'
Squeaky smiled. 'I like yellow corn. What do you like?' 'I like chasing sunbeams,' Mittens purred. 'The little bits of light that dance on the floor.' 'I like that, too!' Squeaky chattered. 'It is way more fun than being chased.' Mittens thought for a minute. 'You are right,' she said. 'It is more fun to be friends.' So Mittens and Squeaky became the best of friends. They would play hide-and-seek in the hay, and they would both chase the sunny, warm sunbeams together. And Mittens learned that being a good kitten did not mean chasing. It meant being a kind friend.