The cat

*The following is a true story.





On a unseasonably cold morning in the Pond, a cat crouched in a parking lot.

For days, he had roamed the streets searching for a new home. Times were tough, and the family that had raised him from a kitten couldn't afford to feed him Meow Mix or get his shots anymore. They could barely afford to feed themselves, the woman he had grown to see as his mother said as she drove him through an older neighborhood. In fact, she pointed out, she couldn't even afford to buy her oldest child a uniform for school. She had to get a loan from a friend. How sad was that?

The only sadness the cat knew was the look in her eyes as she drove away, leaving him by a trash can in front of a old house with a cracked tree in the lawn.

His belly was empty and his paws were froze. All he wanted was a bowl of milk and a warm lap.

And then he saw the light. Two women were hurrying toward it, each carrying a large black bag. The cat's eyes widened and he scurried after them.

"Hello!" he mewed, rushing towards the lighted building. "Hello, hello! Please let me in. I'm so cold and so hungry!"



The women turned and stared at him as he ran towards them.

"Oh the poor baby!" one cried. "Let me go get him some milk."

The cat licked his chops.

Planting himself outside the door, he politely let them know he was eagerly anticipating the milk.

"Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew."

The woman opened the door to the gym and set down the milk. "Sarah, we should let him in," she pleaded, rubbing her arms. "It's so cold."

"Mew?" The cat looked eagerly at the bright room.

"We can't." The woman bit her lip and shook her head. "You know how the manager is." The other woman sighed and nodded. "I'm sorry, kitty. I'll go try to find some food in the back." The cat watched as the door shut behind her. He lapped up some milk and planted himself by the door. Smoothing back his fur, he gave his most winning stare.



"Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew."

Nothing. He tried again.


"Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew."


One lady threw a bag of French Fries out the door. He didn't want French Fries. He wanted a warm lap and a nice cushion to curl up on. He tried again.


"Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew."

A few women clucked their tongues and scratched his ears as they exited the gym, but no one took him home. Huffing into his fur, he tried one more time.


"Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew. Mew."

A mother and daughter stepped out of the gym. The young girl, no older than 13, looked at him and her lip quivered.

"Oh Mom," she whispered. "The poor kitty is cold."

The cat purred and wound around their ankles, rubbing his head against their shins.

"I don't ask for much," he mewed. "Just a little food and some love every now and again."

The girl bent down and scooped up the cat, fingering his neck. "He's got tags and everything," she said, twirling the collar around his neck. "So he's had his shots." The cat curled against her warm body, his purrs filling the air like a motor.

The mother sighed and looked at the cat. She thought of the nine children she had raised, the two grandchildren she was raising now while her daughter fought in Iraq and her son worked across the country to support his family after his wife had left him. She thought of her sick husband and the lessons she had to teach her homescooled daughter later that day. She thought of their three dogs and how money was growing tighter and tighter every day.

Then she looked at the look on her daughter's face, and the pure joy of the cat. She smiled.

"What's one more?" she said. "Bring him on home."

The girl squealed and climbed into the car with the cat, clutching him tightly. The cat snuggled into her arms and smiled.


His paws were warm, and his belly was sure to be full.

He was going home.



All photos from Google Images.