Who could be thoughtless enough to knock on her door at 7 am? The entire street knew she worked early shifts. Billy next door, holding a black cat with green eyes, glared. ‘Judy’s died and it’ll be put down if no-one takes it. You’re the only one in the street without any dogs or cats.’
Cornered, she felt cruel. ‘Billy, I’m away all day… it’ll be alone and afraid.’
‘Not like at the RSPCA, waiting to be destroyed?’ And, ‘Cats sleep all day. It won’t even notice you’re gone.’
No comeback. He had her! Shoving the clawing animal at her he lumbered off.
She fretted at work. No cat box. The dreaded intruder would leave splats and stains on her carpets.
Hurrying home, cat food and litter in tow, she found it curled up asleep on her bed. No signs of mess anywhere. Contentedly meowing a greeting, beautiful eyes blinked in the fading sunlight.
After preparing another’s dinner plus her own she finally fell into bed. The cat could seek out a cushioned chair somewhere. She awoke with a furry black ball over her feet.
Three days passed. The cat increasingly settled – even attempting an early morning paw on her cheek. She’d learned this meant hunger.
Another dawn front door pounding. Furious, she flung it open. Young Eddie from the corner house, red-eyed. ‘I wasn’t even asked if I wanted Judy’s cat. Mum says I can keep it. Everyone knows you hate animals… you’ve never had any… why should you have it?’ Tears streamed.
She fetched the purring creature, unfolding it carefully into Eddie’s outstretched arms. Beaming, he scarpered with his black bundle.
She felt bereft. The house echoed.
Any sign of regret in those retreating green eyes? Only purring contentment, nine lives intact.
Burnside Writers Group 