Stray Love

Although it was the kind of day that it should have been, it was not snowing, only cold winds blew and the air seemed frosty. I shivered and tried to find a place to stay. Not that there were many in a town like this.

I was a stray, no one wanted me, I wanted no one. I was the kind of cat that would attract attention from the loyal dogs. I was chased by them often, and I knew every strategy that a cat could know to get away from them, but teased them and made them think that they had the upper hand in the process.

Although my coat was matted and tangled, it was fairly shiny and fully colored. Although dirt was caked deep into my fur, it maintained it’s slick black color that I liked to think made me look sneaky and mysterious. It attracted attention not only to dogs, but also to other cats, owned and strays. I had many cats that were awaiting my arrival in distant towns, with no idea that I had no intention of returning. I was cunning and witty, traits that a street life had given me. 

It was foggy, and I couldn't see very far ahead of me, but this was the city that I called my hometown, even though I didn’t visit it very often. It was the place that was best for me. I don’t know exactly why. I crawled in a cardboard box with some paper in it. It was in a foggy alleyway, so no one would see me. I tried to sleep as hard as I could, but the cold was holding it back. I dug under the paper, but it still inflicted me. It was a long time before I was able to finally sleep. 

The next morning the fog had disappeared. It was a bright and sunny day, though there was still a small chill in the air as a reminder of the night before. I crawled out of my box into the sunlight and sat in it for a while. After I had taken whatever warmth I could from it, I moved on to scouting for food. I could hear people talking on the street. It was early morning, these were the people who owned the shops. My nose started to twitch as I found the scent of my favorite store, Lovini’s. 

Lovini’s was the local restaurant. It had meat and fish, and best of all, it didn’t have to be stolen. The owner, Sarah Lovini, gave me a free feast every time she saw me. All I had to do was scratch the back door, which I did. Sarah opened it up and smiled at me. “Hi Heidi!” (She had named me that.) “Come in, sweet kitty!” I waltzed through the door and jumped up on the table. She scratched my neck and started on my food. I laid down, always enjoying the smell of food cooking for the others in town. I started to doze off, for I had not gotten much sleep the past night. Sarah looked over at me. She stared with pity in her eyes. “Oh, Heidi, that’s not a place where you could comfortably sleep!” She picked me up and laid me down on a purple cushion. “There we go,” she muttered. “That’s better.” I had never felt anything like this thing I laid on. It pulled me to sleep as fast as it could. When I woke up, Sarah was not back in the kitchen, but up at the counter. I felt lazy. I laid on my back and scratched it on the velvety material on the bed. My ear twitched, and I told myself it was time to get up. I sleepily got up and stretched. It was then I realized that the kitchen had transformed since I had last seen it. It was now full of cat toys and ramps. Maybe I should stay with Sarah a little longer, I thought. She's' set all this up for me, why not take advantage of it?  I walked around the kitchen, hopping up counters and climbing up tables. It was a regular play space. Sometimes Sarah would come in and check on me, smiling and playing with me. It felt good. I betrayed myself with a thought, Maybe I should stay here forever. Then I snapped out of it. No! You are a stray! You can not be tamed, remember? I suddenly needed to get out of this wonderful place. The next time Sarah came in, I was at the back door and I meowed and yelled as loud as I could. She looked sad, but opened the door and said goodbye. I felt a little bit of guilt, regret, and remorse. I could have had a home. But I told myself that I had a wonderful life of tricking and taking. I focused my thoughts on where I would go next. I was full, so I couldn’t go scouting for food, and I wasn’t sure if there were any dogs I hadn’t visited yet. I decided I would go tease the old ones. I smirked as I remembered Rowdy, a big clumsy bulldog that felt so confident that he was going to catch me one day. He was very much like his name, too energetic to actually get something done. I remembered where his yard was, encircled in a neat white fence that had been knocked over more than once by a crazy bulldog. There was a small hole at the bottom of one of the fences that Rowdy had dug, but had been blocked off by the owners so no one could go out, but it was an excellent way to get inside. I squeezed through the hole and in between the board and the fence. 

Rowdy was at his water bowl, clumsily lapping up water. I stealthily tiptoed over to his sand pit on the other side of the yard and picked up his most precious toy, a small pink ball. I clenched my teeth, and the ball emitted a loud squeak. Rowdy whipped around and started to growl. He charged towards me, barking uncontrollably. I bolted to the left, and he followed, tipping over sand buckets and toy trucks left by the owners’ kids. He was so close I could see my reflection in his eyes. I hissed and spit as much as I could with a ball in my mouth. Suddenly he stopped, anger pulsing in his big eyes. I dropped the ball. Suddenly I realized he had me trapped in a corner. 

I was in trouble. Rowdy was mean, loved ripping things to pieces. How had I gotten here? Had Sarah’s food weighed me down when I ran? My heart pounded. He growled and barked. I backed into the corner as much as I could. Suddenly he sprang at me, and he was too quick and vicious for me to slip under him. I felt his weight hit my body and push my harder into the white fence. I hissed and spit like I wasn’t scared, but I was terrified. I was going to die. 

Suddenly I heard a whistle. I was sharp and commanding. Rowdy froze, and happily skipped over to the commander. A boy about 14 was holding on to his collar and locking it onto a cord. Rowdy was staring at me with an angry hunger in his expression. The boy looked at me, and I tried to bolt, but my right back leg was throbbing where the dog had landed on it. He walked slowly over to me, and I hissed and spit at him until I couldn’t any more. When I was finished, he picked me up and brought me into the house.

“Mom, look what Rowdy was attacking.” A woman turned to face him, and her face suddenly turned to disgust. “Ugh, Caleb! Get it out of here!” “No mom!” I heard a tearful voice enter. “Lemme keep her!” The mom’s face twisted in horror. “No way, Cecila! It’s almost dead! I don’t want a stray cat in the house!” I saw Cecilia’s face. She came to me and took me from her brother. “She’s not a stray anymore.” I saw her mother start to protest, but a knock on the door distracted her. “Ah, Sarah! Come in!” Cecilia’s face brightened. “Aunt Sarah! Look, we’ve got a new pet! What should we name her?” I saw Sarah gasp. “Why, call her Heidi! I know this cat, she comes to my shop every once in a while. That’s what I call her!” Cecilia looked down at me. “Um, can we, er, not call her Heidi?” she asked timidly. Sarah laughed. “Of course, Cecilia, call her whatever you want.” “What about Pepper?” Cecilia smiled at her brother. “Yeah, let’s call her Pepper,” she said quietly. “It’s perfect.” I couldn't believe what I was hearing. No! I thought I’m a stray! I don’t have a name! I’m not owned! But I couldn’t get away from them, and my wounds were too great anyway. I stared up at Cecilia. I had tasted what an owned life felt like at Sarah’s. I thought, Maybe I could get used to it. They took me downstairs, and Sarah drove to her restaurant to get all the things that she had bought for me. They brought me warm milk and food, and sat me on the precious purple bed that I had already fallen asleep on. In a few days I was in perfect health, except for a few scars. 

One day Cecila came home from school crying. Tears were streaming down her face. Without confronting her mom, she laid down on her bed. I had just taken a nap and entered her room to welcome her back from school. I jumped up on her bed. She just stared at me for a minute, but then grabbed me gently and pulled me close to her. I licked the tears off her face, but I was confused. I had never seen a person cry before. “Pepper,” She sobbed. “Why is 7th grade so hard?” I didn’t know what anything she had just said meant, but I felt she needed me. For about an hour we sat there watching each other. When she finally went to talk to her mom. I sat on my bed and thought. I would not have been there to comfort Cecila if I had not let her take me in. I was surprised at myself and why I had sat there and comforted her. The old me would have wiggled out of her arms and hissed. But I loved Cecila. It felt good to be the first one to comfort her. I had changed for the better.