Two weeks the cat had been perched on the window sill. The staff could hardly believe the reason when it finally came to light.
Into the oncall ward strutted Emily, a freshoutofcollege nurse with eyes that glittered and cheeks that flushed.
Mrs. Clarke! Hes back again! Can you imagine? she exclaimed.
What he? the senior sister, Susan Clarke, asked, rubbing the bridge of her nose. The night shift had been brutal, and now this
Its the cat! Grey with a white ear Hes been sitting there for an hour! And he comes every day, can you believe it?
What does every day mean, exactly?
Susan, head of the resuscitation unit, was scanning the patient list before her rounds. The new admission from Ward4 was still unconscious. Fourteen days in a coma after being hit on a zebra crossing when a driver ran a red light. As if the hospital didnt have enough drama already!
Emily perched on the edge of a chair.
Hes been doing this for two weeks now. He sits at the window of the room where Margaret Hughes lies. He watches and watches The orderlies try to shoo him away, but he always comes back. Weve started calling him the NightWatchman.
Susan grimaced. Just what we needmore stray animals. She wanted to scold the nurse, but the workload was relentless. Still, something in Emilys tone made her rise and walk to the window.
On the sill of that very window sat a cat, exactly as Emily described: a lean grey feline with a white patch on one ear. Its coat was a little ruffled, but you could tell it had once been brushed. It sat upright, not the usual catlike stretch, more like a sentinel on duty, staring unblinkingly into the room where Margaret lay.
Good heavens, what nonsense, Susan muttered. We have a woman teetering between life and death, and were debating cats
Yet the cats stubborn return gnawed at her. Such devotionrare in people, even rarer in stray animals.
What do we actually know about this patient? she asked suddenly.
Emily shrugged.
Almost nothing. Margaret Hughes, fiftytwo, lives alone. Her daughter drops by now and then. She was hit on a zebra crossing right outside her flat
Which flat?
The brickgrey fivestorey block behind the hospital fence, the nurse gestured toward the window. The one opposite the car park.
Susan turned back to the cat. It seemed to sense her gaze and flicked its head. The look in the animals eyes gave her a shiver down her spine.
The answer arrived that very afternoon when Margarets daughter, Lucy, brought in the patients medical history. From the folder fell a photograph: Margaret, seated in a chair, cradling a grey cat with a white ear. Finally, some context.
This this is who? Susans voice trembled.
Lucy hiccuped, eyes brimming.
Its Whiskers, Mums cat. He disappeared two years ago when the plumbers left the back door ajar. Mum plastered notices everywhere, canvassed every street She even refused to move, saying, What if Whiskers comes back? How will he find me?
A cold chill ran down Susans spine. The cat had been looking for his owner all that time, perhaps lingering nearby when the ambulance smashed into her. He must have followed the flashing lights to the hospital, then found the window and kept watching.
Where does she live now? Susan asked.
In that grey block behind the hospital, Lucy replied.
At that moment the quiet of the corridor was shattered by the shrill beeping of monitors in Margarets room. EveryoneSusan, Emily, Lucyscurried over. The cardiac monitor was finally showing the first signs of waking from the coma. The cat, of course, was forgotten in an instant.
When Margarets eyes fluttered open, doctors swarmed like bees. Bright lights, murmured voices, the whine of machinesall a hazy whirlwind.
Mum! Lucy shouted, leaning over the bed. Can you hear us?
Margaret tried to nod. She couldnt speak yether throat was raw from the tubes.
Easy, easy, Susan cooed. Take it slow. Youve done wonderfully.
A few minutes later Lucy was holding her mothers hand, tears streaming, when she suddenly smiled through the sobs.
Mum, you wont believe itWhiskers has been found!
Margarets eyes widened in recognition, surprise, and joy.
Stay right there, Susan said gently but firmly, keeping her hand on Margarets shoulder. Dont get too excited just yet.
Can you imagine, Mum? Lucy whispered, stroking her hand. He found you all by himself! He came here every day, sat by the window The doctors spotted him, and when I showed them the photo they knew instantly.
Tears rolled down Margarets cheeks.
Ive taken him back, Lucy continued. At first he tried to bolt, but now hes eager to come. Ill bring him to you every day as soon as youre allowed out of bed.
When Margaret was transferred to a regular ward, Lucy arrived with a large bag that squeaked with an annoyed cat.
You cant bring him in here, the orderly barked. Its against the rules!
Susan waved a hand dismissively.
Leave it! This cat has earned more rights than many humans around here.
Honestly muttered Nurse Emily, passing by. We thought it was just a story
Nothing imagined, Susan replied softly. Sometimes love is stronger than any rule, even time itself.
Patience, love, Lucy said, pulling the dishevelled Whiskers out. Youll see Mum soon enough
The cat froze, sniffed the air, then bolted for the pillow, his paws a blur.
Careful! Susan shouted, but it was too late.
Whiskers was already curled up beside the cushion, purring so loudly the whole corridor seemed to echo. Margaret laughed and wept at the same time, trying to stroke his trembling fur.
Good heavens, Nurse Emily whispered, wiping away her own tears, just like a scene from a movie.
From that day on Lucy visited every day. To her amazement, Whiskers seemed to have learned the schedule. Exactly at four oclock hed spin around the door, meowing insistently.
How do you know the time? she asked, bemused. Do you have a watch in your head?
He merely flicked his tail and trotted from paw to paw, as if saying, Come on, hurry up, Mums waiting.
You know, Susan mused, watching the little tableau, Ive spent twenty years in medicine and have seen a lot. But this this is something else.
She fell silent, choosing her words carefully, then added, Perhaps we humans still have a lot to learn about loyalty.
Later, back at home, as Margaret rested in her own bed, Whiskers settled beside herjust as he had two years before, as if the coma, the hospital, the endless days by the window had never happened.
And Susan? She now looks at the world a shade differently. When she hears people claim animals cant love or that miracles dont exist, she just smiles. She knows the truest wonders arent conjured by a magic wand; theyre born of plain, stubborn love.
Every time she passes that grey fivestorey block, she glances up at the thirdfloor windows. There, on a sill, a familiar silhouette often basks in the sun, eyes halfclosed in pure contentmentWhiskers, the cat who never gave up.
