To Mum and Sonny
Hed spotted the little thing tucked behind a weatherworn terrace in the backalley of a Manchester chippy. The big, grubby, gaunt terriertypeRusty, though the endless layer of soot made his coat look more pewter than gingerwas shuffling from one heap of rubbish to the next, hunting for scraps. Thats when his nose led him to a tiny, ashgray kitten, barely a whisker above the damp cobbles.
The kitten was wriggling on the asphalt, yowling like a tiny siren. Rusty growled, but the kitten didnt flinch.
What the devils this? muttered Rusty, eyebrows (if dogs had them) raised. Just what I needed. Hey, hey! Your mum will be back any minute. Dont get under my paws.
He tried to flick the squirming futility away with a paw, but the kitten clung to the massive, filthy foreleg as if it were a liferaft, its tiny claws digging in.
Fine, Rusty thought, Ill wait for the mum to turn up and then be off with my day.
The little furball settled down, eyes drooping, and soon dozed in the warm nook of Rustys side. The dog, equally exhausted, curled up beside him.
Waiting turned into a daylong vigil, then an evening, and still no mother cat. Night fell, and Rusty realised waiting any longer was pointlesssomething terrible must have happened to the mum.
The kitten awoke, nudging Rustys belly with a trembling nose, clearly hoping for a bite.
Now thats a problem, Rusty mused. What am I supposed to do? Toss him out on a starving street?
Right, Ill take him to the same dump by the fishandchip shop. They toss out tasty bits in that big bin. Theres a little opening on the side; thats where I usually rummage for a bite.
Ill drop him there and be done with it. No need to lug him around.
Gripping the kitten by the scruff, Rusty lumbered a short way and left the tiny creature in a clump of brambles so it wouldnt wander off while he dug through the trash. He kept his ears pricked for the kittens plaintive mews.
Blimey, muttered Rusty, what mum?
He uncovered a few halfempty yogurt pots, smearing a little of the sweet, creamy residue on the kittens snout. The kitten lapped it up and purred.
Lovely. All sorted.
Rusty felt a warm glow of pride. Thats how you feed a mate.
Soon the kitten snuggled against Rustys warm flank, claws sunk into the shaggy coat, and drifted off to sleep.
Right then, thought Rusty. Ill stay till morning, keep the little one safe, then well see what to do.
During the night the kittens tiny cries were soothed by Rustys gentle licking. At first light they both dozed off together. When Rusty finally opened his eyes, the kitten stared up with big, wet eyes, tapped Rustys damp nose and mewed, Mum?
In that instant Rusty realised he wasnt going anywherehed become a father, whether he liked it or not.
He fetched anything softer he could find, even gnawed a piece of stale bread for his feline charge. The kitten nuzzled into Rustys side, playing with his tail, and both settled into a contented, if slightly bewildered, peace. It was as if theyd found a home and a family in the most unlikely of places.
They ate together, slept together, and Rusty spent his spare moments coaxing the kitten to chase, jump and hone the barebones survival skills of a streetwise cat.
Summer rolled on and the kitten grew plumper; Rusty, meanwhile, grew gaunter. Autumn arrived, bringing relentless rain and the hunt for a dry, snug spot. Often Rusty would huddle the kitten close, shielding the tiny furball from the cold and the drizzle, shivering himself but licking away any chill that threatened his little charge.
Soon Rusty caught a coldsniffles, coughs, a sneeze that sent a spray of dribble across his whiskered muzzle. The kitten peered worriedly at him.
Mum, Mum, whats wrong? Are you ill?
No worries, my brave little whiskerball, Rusty answered, Im fine. Cuddle up; Ill keep you warm.
Tears blurred Rustys eyes as the cold deepened, and the rain turned the dump into a soggy mire. There was nothing left to eat at that spot, so Rusty decided to brave the road and find another bin.
He seized the kitten by the scruff once more, teeth gently clamping the skin, and set off. Water raced down the pavement, the sky weeping an endless autumn torrent, splattering onto Rustys back and forehead.
Only one thought pulsed through his battered brain: My little one mustnt get soaked and sick.
He dashed across the road, eyes glued to the far side, but missed the slowmoving van rounding the corner. Luck was on his sidethe driver was cruising cautiously, wipers struggling against the deluge. The impact was light but enough to fling Rusty onto the curb.
The driver, a kindly chap named Dr. Harold, opened his car door, walked over, and crouched beside the dazed dog, who was now lying on his left side, a battered rear paw twitching.
Let me have a look, said the driver in a soft, reassuring tone. Im a vet, you know.
Rain hammered harder, drenching both man and beast. Rusty pressed something close to his chest, eyes shut tight.
Whats that youre hiding? the vet asked, peering under the injured paw. Two bright cat eyes stared back.
Ah, there we are! the vet exclaimed. He slipped off his coat, spread it over the wet asphalt, and gently lifted Rusty onto it. He then placed the dog and his tiny companion onto his back seat and sped off.
A fellow vet, Dr. Penelope, watched from the roadside. Whats this then? she asked, eyeing the soaked duo.
The driver simply smiled and escorted them into the clinic. Inside, Rusty still clutching his kitten was laid on a damp table. The vet examined the injured paw, the kittens small body trembling.
Interesting, the vet muttered. Did you?
I did, the driver replied.
Penelope lifted the kitten from Rustys grasp and handed it to the doctor. Take a seat over there, dont bother me, she told the man, already preparing syringes and instruments.
The kitten, desperate, tried to wriggle free, shouting, Mum! Mum! Im here, dont be scared. Im coming!
Shhh, the doctor soothed, Everything will be alright for your friend. Youre in good hands.
He cradled the kitten, eyes never leaving Rustys weary face. The nurse, a lanky fellow in a white coat, whispered something about anaesthesia; the kitten, exhausted from the excitement, dozed on the doctors lap.
A few hours later, the vet told the driver he could take the dog home after a short course of injections and a followup in a few days.
You know what, the vet said, chuckling, Ill swing by tonight after work, bring a bottle, and well check on your little ward.
The next morning, Rusty awoke to a bowl of mushy meat and a handful of soft biscuits from the vets hand. He could barely stand, but his eyes followed the grey kitten perched on a high shelf, watching the feeding with a mixture of awe and hunger.
The lads worried for his mate, the vet observed.
Not his mate, the driver corrected, grinning. Hes looking after his mother.
The vet laughed, patted Rustys head, and said, Dont fret, both of you will be right as rain.
He then asked, What shall we call you?
The driver thought a moment, then replied, Ill name the dog Mum, and the kitten Sonny. How does that sound?
The vet raised his glass.
To Mum and Sonny! he toasted.
They spent the rest of the evening swapping stories, drinking tea, and laughing over the absurdity of a terrierdog and a kitten becoming a family.
Eventually, Sonny curled up on Mums bandaged leg and drifted off, while Mum stared at the ceiling, trying to recall a life before the kitten.
How had he ever imagined existing without a tiny grey furball?
And that, dear reader, is why a strays heart can grow three sizes when it finds a reason to protect someone else.
