Friends Dont Leave Each Other
Why are you looking at me like that? the old lady asked me with a puzzled tone, shaking the bag she was holding even more insistently. Come here, Im going to feed you! Dont you recognize me? Have you forgotten who I am?
I let out a heavy sigh. Of course I recognized her.
In fact, I even knew her full nameEdith Margaret, thats what shes called.
Actually, if Im honest, Id been looking forward to her visit today. But right at that moment, I just couldnt bring myself to go over to her.
Probably, Ill regret it later I muttered to myself, turned my grey tail to her, gave a parting flick, and darted off towards the bins across the car park.
*****
Never in my life had I, Thomas, found myself in such an absurdly awkward predicament.
A short distance away stood the old woman with that familiar bag of cat food, calling out to coax me over for a meal.
It wasnt my first time seeing her; that kind-hearted pensioner came by the local high street market a few times each week, always feeding any stray and unfortunate souls she met.
Mainly, that meant the local dogs and cats, but once or twice, Id seen her slip a sandwich or spare change to humans, though not without her signature inquisitive question:
You wont spend it all on lager, will you?
Definitely not, love, a bearded bloke in tatty jeans would reply, nodding eagerly. Ill get myself some bread, cheese perhaps Im simply starving, bless you.
I, licking my paws after a fine meal, watched as Edith Margaret fished out a few pound coins from her purse and handed them over, always with, Now you promised me!
A minute later, with a certain disdain, Id see the man saunter out of the off-licence, bottle in hand, happiness beaming from his eyes.
Thats people for youhow little some need to be content.
It always ended the same way. Bread and cheese were never bought, just cheap vodka or gin. Then a quick swig, curl up on soggy cardboard, and sleep through the day.
One time, unable to watch him waste another bottle, I darted over and accidentally knocked it over with my paw. It cracked and spilled all over the pavement.
You should have seen his face.
For a moment, I think hed have roasted me alive if he could have caught me.
Stupid, stupid man, I thought, twitching my tail. I was only trying to help. Youll live longer without that poison.
I managed to hide before he got me, and ever since, I became his mortal enemy; whenever we crossed paths, hed lob an empty can my way.
But thats not what Im here to mull overits not about men with beards and bad habits, but about a hungry cat and a kind soul.
Today, like clockwork, she was at the market and called me over, shaking the bag, but I was desperately hungry (I hadnt managed a decent meal in two whole dayssometimes people were stingy, sometimes the dogs too bold), and truthfully I could have eaten a whole roast or a sea bass. Anything, as long as there was enough.
All I needed to do was swallow my pride and take a few padded steps towards her, pick up my treat, and all would be solved.
Simple, youd think. But something held me back.
That something was an odd, urgent noise from the binsdown near the edge of the market.
I hesitated.
Why are you just staring at me? The old ladys confusion grew, and she shook the bag even more if possible. Get over here and let me feed you! Dont you recognize me, Thomas?
Of course I did.
The name, Edith Margaret, was known to all the traders. Before her retirement, shed worked at this very marketeveryone knew her, even cats and dogs.
While I loitered, two of the regularstwo tabby girlsdarted in, winding round Ediths ankles, begging for a nibble. Beaming, she poured two little piles of biscuits onto the pavement, then peered expectantly in my direction.
Whats the matter, do you need a personal invitation? She called, gesturing with the dwindling food, warning me that if I didnt come, there might not be any left.
I saw all this, and even took a step forward, tempted. But again, that strange sound grew sharper, more desperatesomeone, another furred companion, clearly in trouble. Who, though?
I weighed my options: food here and now, or rushing to see who was in distress. I never saw myself as some feline Robin Hood, butold habits die hard. And besides, one minute too many could be the difference between life and
With a resigned sigh, I turned my back on the feast, flicked my tail in farewell, and bolted for the bins.
Edith simply shrugged and began feeding the new arrivals, their tiny paws patting at her skirt for attention.
*****
I arrived at the bins, a little out of breath, ears straining. The noise Id heardhalf whimper, half whinehad faded. My heart sank. I shouldve come straight away, I scolded myself.
But then, a faint movement caught my eye to the rightan anonymous black rubbish sack, half buried.
I crept over, sniffed, and gently prodded with a paw. Instant responsea lively, not quite plaintive sound, almost relieved.
So: someone had stuffed a puppy insidetied up, left out to perish from cold, hunger, or plain lack of air. Whats wrong with people?
Without thinking, I tore into the sackclaws careful not to injure whoever was inside.
Suddenly, a pair of big puppy eyes shone through the tear, brimming with hope.
Now, dogs and Iweve never been the best of friends. They chase me; I avoid them. Thats just the way it goes. But this tiny thing crawled out, wagging his tail, looked at me like I was his long-lost mother, and licked my nose.
Oi, stop it! I hissed, pretending to be annoyed. I dont need any puppy snuggles.
Woof! barked the pup, and tried to do it again.
Youre alive, thats what matters, I muttered. Now, go and find yourself a person.
But the little fellow had made his mind up. What did he want people for? Theyd put him in a sack. I had pulled him out.
No matter where I tried to hide, he followed, full of bounce, tail wagging like a parade flag, autumn leaves swirling everywhere.
Honestly, had I wanted to, I probably could have shaken him off, given him a sharp tap. But nohed never last alone, and what if those same people spotted him?
Fine, I huffed. Ill find you a home, and youll be safe. Thatll be the end of it. Cat and dog, friends for lifewhat a thought. But Id worry about the search later. Right now, hunger gnawed stronger than pride.
That evening, as luck would have it, I discovered an entire sausage roll left on the bus stop bench. I grabbed the paper bag, pulled it to a safe spot, ready to wolf it downwhen, glancing over, I found the puppy watching me, tail a blur.
With a sigh, I nudged the roll his way.
He barked, pounced, and gobbled half in seconds.
Looks tasty I mused, swallowing hard, watching him chomp away. Guess Im not getting any.
To my surprise, though, he left me half, then barked for me to come and eat.
What a generous soul, I thought, genuinely touched. Sharing to the very last crumbremarkable.
And so it was: a friendship forged over sausage roll. Friendships can start with a smile, a look, a handshakeor with a forgotten snack.
I kept telling myself this was just a temporary arrangement. Yet with every passing day, the puppy grew fonder, and I more responsible for him. Id saved him, after all. Now it was up to me to keep him out of trouble.
He needed a constant eye: almost under a cyclists front wheel one day, darting towards traffic the next.
With a kitten, you can reason. But this puppy? Not a word of cat did he understandjust excited barks and boundless curiosity.
He was also growing at a rate of knots, and it was tough enough fending for myself, let alone sharing every scrap with a hungry, rapidly enlarging companion. His breedsome kind of sheepdog? Mastiff?promised to turn into a small polar bear.
When hes grown, I thought, watching him devour the beef Id stolen from the butchers stall, hell be as big as a vanand probably eat me whole.
There were close calls, of course.
All right, you two! roared the butcher as we dashed away, Come back here again and see what happens!
Truthfully, we should have left the area ages agoId overheard some stern council men planned to round up all the strays soon. But where could we go? The city was carved into no-go zones; show up elsewhere, and local packs would chase us off, if not worse.
No, best to stay out of sight for now, I thought.
Managing the puppys curiosity, though, was a daily trial. Then, inevitably, one afternoon the old lady Edith spotted us both.
Sit here and stay put, I meowed in my sternest tone to the puppy. Ill get us a meal.
But the moment I reached Edith, the puppy bolted from cover, galloping up to me in excitement.
So youve got yourself a new friend, she laughed. Well, come on then, both of youlets get you fed. Cat foods expensive these days, but Ive some lovely chicken patties.
My eyes lit up, but I didnt scold the puppywhat was the point? Wed been found out anyway.
I nodded for him to follow, and within minutes we were tucking into her homemade treats.
What a fine-looking pup, she murmured, eyeing him up. How did you end up on the street, I wonder?
Better if you didnt know, kind lady, I thought, finishing the food.
As I licked my whiskers, I couldnt help recalling my own past. Two years ago, Id been a kitten, abandoned after my mother disappeared. Id wandered through rain and sleet, mewling for help, ignored by passers-by. Somehow, I survived till spring.
That spring, a couple spotted me.
Well, George, shall we take him in? Reckon hell earn his keep as a mouser?
Of course, replied George, smiling. Never met a cat that couldnt catch mice.
And so I was christened Thomaswhy, I never worked out; perhaps because I was slim and long. But names mattered littleit meant I had a home and masters who might care for me.
I was wrong.
They only wanted a working cat, never let me inside or showed affection, barely fed me.
A cat should stay hungry, said George, makes him keener for mice.
So I lived off whatever I could find in the gardenhardly luxury, but I worked hard, hoping to be appreciated.
It didnt matter. When summer was over, they simply left me.
Theyd left me for days before, even a week, but this time it was forever. I waited until the first frosts. Realising they would never return, I abandoned the empty house for the city, until I found my way to the market.
Tried my luck a few placesbasements, gardensbut always chased off by dogs, cats, even people. Only here, among so many, did I finally find a place, learned to fend for myself, and never again did I hope for a home or an owner.
But for my nameless puppy companion, I wished for better.
He had no name, of coursenames are something humans bestow.
Dont worry, I told him. Ill find you a real family, and youll have the life you deserve.
Yet, no one suitable had yet come alongexcept for Edith; and she was too frail to take on a dog whod soon weigh as much as she did.
But a few days later, Edith brought a family to the marketa man, a woman and a boy around nine years old, all with kind smiles and gentle manners.
They were looking for a big dog for their new home in a nearby village, for company and security while the husband was away for work.
What a lovely pup, Edith said, and Im convinced hes clever as they come. The best choice for you, surely.
The man knelt by him.
A fine fellow, he smiled. Hell grow large, I expect.
Dad, dad! exclaimed the boy, Lets take him! Ill name him Buster. Ill play with him every day!
Why Buster? his father chuckled.
Because hes so round, the boy laughed.
Quietly, I slunk away, not wanting to interruptor let them see my tear-filled eyes. I truly wanted the best for the puppy, but parting was harder than Id expected. In the months together I hadnt felt so needed in years. He needed me. He was my friend.
So I shed a few tearsof happiness and sorrow all at once.
Well, love, asked the man, lifting Buster, shall we take him? I reckon hell be the perfect guard for our little family.
Lets do it, the wife replied, beaming.
They thanked Edith, made to leave with their new companionwhen suddenly, Buster began squirming, slipped from the mans arms, and ran back to me, licking my nose, tail thrashing.
I wont leave you! he blurted outin perfect cat, mind you!Youre my best friend. Friends never leave each other. Never.
I was stunned; not just that he returned, but that hed been silently picking up my lingo all along.
The boy and his father tried to coax him; he wriggled free every time.
Oh, why are you such trouble? I grumbled. Go on, go with these good people. Theyll treat you well.
No! he barked. I wont leave you alone. If it werent for you, I wouldnt be here.
So now what? I thought, half exasperated, half proud.
The family and Edith all watched the puppy, tail circling me, licking my face.
He wont leave the cat, the wife smiled. If were to take himbest take both.
Dad, can we please have them both? Thomas and Bustertheyre friends, right? pleaded the boy.
Well, lets have them, the man laughed, Friends ought to stay together.
So now, Thomas and Bustercat and dogno longer live on the streets. They have their own garden, loving owners, and a kindly neighbour who brings them chicken patties on occasion. Most of all, they have each othertogether, always.
And I have no doubt theyll be all right, however long their time together may be.
So, thats the story.
What is it about? Friendship, loyalty, stubbornness perhaps, and most importantlyabout good people. Because without them, thered be no happy endings at all.
Thank heavens there are still good people in this world. Thats what gives me hope.
