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„Oh, you’re hungry, aren’t you?”
I put the tuna on a little plate for her, and when I go down on my knees to place it in front of her on the ground, she’s so loud and excited that she practically jumps into the food.
As soon as she starts eating, I hear the sound of tiny paws coming closer across the marble in the hall, and a few moments later both of the missing kittens pad around the corner to join their mom, while I carefully pick up the third kitten and place it next to its family, who are now all surrounding the little plate of tuna.
I take a few steps back until I’m leaning against the kitchen counter, assessing the situation at hand. We used to have cats when I was a child because my sister wanted them, so she was always the one who mostly took care of them—until she lost interest and that job fell into the hands of our maid. I always liked cats, but never thought about getting one for myself. While it’s possible that someone could be looking for this bunch, it looks like they have been abandoned.
They’re beautiful cats, I must say. Now that I see them underneath the bright ceiling light of my kitchen I can tell that the shade of their gray fur is a little different on each one. One of the kittens is a lot darker than the others, more black than gray, and the mother’s fur is in a darker shade of gray than that of the other two kittens. One of the lighter gray kittens has eyes that are already strikingly green, which is rather unusual at this age, I think.
The little family devours the tiny portion of tuna within seconds, and soon I find myself being yelled at by three hungry kittens and a very eager mother cat, who now marches toward me with another demanding meow.
„I’m sorry, I don’t have any more,” I excuse myself—and the cat meows angrily.
Shit. I need more food. I actually need a lot of things, if I want them—and me—to be comfortable for the night. I produce my phone from my pants pocket and dial Alexander’s number. He’s going to either hate or ridicule me for this request, but I don’t see any other way.
„Sir, what’s wrong?” he greets me, sounding worried.
„Nothing, I…er…” I stutter, momentarily distracted when I notice the kittens stumbling over to my leather couch, ready to dig their tiny claws into my furniture. „I need cat food…well, kitten food, too, and cat litter, and…a litter box. No, two is better. And I need it now, please. As soon as possible.”
„Excuse me, Sir?”
„I found cats…kittens, I mean, a mother with her kittens,” I try to explain. „And I need to take care of them.”
Do I, though? The way I’m phrasing this makes it sound like I have no other choice, like there were no shelters or places I could go. But it’s late, and I’m not even sure they’re open at this time. It might be easier to just keep them here for the night, and figure out the rest in the morning. These cats were placed under my door, so they’re my responsibility.
And one of them just climbed up the side of my black leather couch, its claws ripping into the costly fabric.
Chapter 13
Claire
„Is there anything else I can do?” I ask, as I finish cleaning the last of many, many food bowls of the day.
Paula, the supervisor of the shelter, just stomped into the room with a large sack of cat litter thrown over her shoulder. She places it on the floor next to me with a loud grunt, before she looks around, breathing hard from hauling around things all morning.
„I don’t think so, love,” she says. „Looks like we’re good for now, and there are two other volunteers coming in later today.”
She smiles at me. „It was so lovely of you to show up today. You have no idea how much it helps.”
„It’s my pleasure,” I tell her.
I’ve been volunteering at this cat rescue ever since I moved to Boston for my Master’s degree. It’s out in Watertown, which is just a twenty-minute bike ride from where I live, and it’s the perfect equalizer for all the sitting and studying that usually characterizes my life.
It’s also a very good distraction from certain professors who reside inside my head rent-free.
„Well, I only have a late afternoon class today, so I’ll stick around for a while and cuddle some kitties,” I say, and Paula’s smile widens. She is a petite lady in her mid-fifties. She’s been running this place for a couple of years, and is one of the most friendly people I’ve ever met.
„That’s what they need the most anyway,” she says. „Love, all the love you can give.”
„Easy!” I pipe, as I go back outside.
The shelter itself is rather small, with just two enclosures—one for very sick cats who need medical treatment—and a fenced yard for the cats to roam outside. I’ve always wanted to have a cat of my own, but so far my personal circumstances never allowed it. My aunt is highly allergic, so we could never have any when I was still living with her, and they’re not allowed in college housing.
But someday. Someday, I will have a little furry companion of my own, or two, or three. Cats are social creatures, so I would want at least two. Someday.
For now, my regular visits at the shelter need to suffice.
It’s still chilly outside, but the sun is shining, warming the freezing January air at least a little bit. I’m smiling as I make my way across the yard, where I find about half a dozen cats chilling on self-heating mats that we have placed on a bench for them. Two tabby sisters come up to me for some cuddles when I go down on my knees next to the bench, and my heart melts at the way they rub against me, claiming me with their scent.
