The small grey cat sat by the door of the veterinary clinic, weeping softly. At its paws lay a tiny kitten, barely breathing
A woman strolled calmly down the street, a little dog trotting beside her on a lead. It was a bright autumn daythe air crisp and clear, golden and crimson leaves swirling as if dancing to some invisible orchestras tune. The mood was light, almost sparkling. But then
Suddenly, something caught her eye, impossible to ignore. There, at the clinics entrance, sat the grey cat, its mournful cries piercing the air. Beside it, the tiny kitten lay motionless. Every so often, the mother cat would dart toward passersby, as if begging for help. It yowled, pleaded, demandedbut people only quickened their steps.
Everyone was too busy, too wrapped in their own affairs to noticeor perhaps pretending not to seethe fragile creature on the pavement. How often it was easier to walk past a strangers suffering. But the woman stopped.
She knelt, gently lifting the kitten. It was so thin its ribs pressed sharply against its skin. Its breaths came in shallow gasps. A single thought flashed through her mind: *What do I do? Where do I go?* Then the mother cat stepped closer, locking eyes with her, and let out a soft, insistent mewl. *Help save us*
A note hung on the door: *”Closed on the 28th. No appointments.”*
The woman hesitated. A taxi? Money? Where else was there? But yielding to instinct, she pushed the doorand miraculously, it swung open.
At the end of the hall stood a tall, silver-haired man in a worn white coat.
*”Please!”* she called. *”Help! Ive no money now, but Ill bring it later. Its dying”* She held out the frail little body.
The vet took the kitten carefully and hurried to the operating room. The woman and the mother cat waited in the corridor, trembling with nerves. After a few minutes, she noticed strange bumps beneath the mans coat, just below his shoulders. *”Oh dear, the poor mans hunchbacked,”* she thought.
*”Do you think so?”* he asked suddenly, turning to study her. Then, without another word, he returned to the kitten.
Hours passed. The kittens breathing steadied.
*”There now,”* said the vet. *”Itll live. But it needs caremedicine, warmth. It cant go back out there”* His gaze lingered on her. The mother cat, too, fixed her with an unblinking stare.
*”What are you saying?”* the woman protested. *”Of course Ill take them home. Both of them. Me and Biscuit”* She nodded to the dog sitting quietly beside her*”well make them part of the family.”*
The vet smiled.
*”Then Ill give you all theyll need. No charge. Consider it already paid.”*
She blinked at the word *”Miss”*those years were long behind herbut there was no time to dwell on it. She took the medicine, the kitten, and set off home, flanked by her faithful dog and the grateful cat.
A month later, she gathered her courage and called the clinic to thank the vet.
*”Hello, Dr. Whitmore speaking,”* answered a cheerful young voice.
She told the tale of the rescued kitten, pouring out her gratitude. But the vet sounded baffled. After a pause, he said, *”Forgive me, but I dont recall you. Besides, the 28th was my day offI was out of town with family. You must be mistaken. But no matterthe kittens alive and has a home.”*
The woman sank into her chair, bewildered. Just then, the grey kittennow plump and adoredleapt into her lap. Nearby, the mother cat watched her intently.
And then *He* appeared. The old coat no longer hid the white wings beneath. The Angel smiled.
*”You saved them yourself,”* he told her. *”I only helped a little.”*
The mother cat gazed at the Angel and began to purr.
*”I dont usually help humans,”* he muttered, as if apologising. *”But you cats so persistent. Fine. One last time, Ill bend the rules.”*
He winked at the catthen dissolved into the air. The doorbell rang.
A shabby man stood there, clutching a toolbox. *”You called? Leaky tap?”*
*”No, I didnt,”* she smiled. *”But since youre here, could you check the bathroom? Ill pay.”*
*”Getting all mixed up again”* he grumbled, shuffling inside. Kneeling, he unpacked his tools.
Silently, she brought him a thick cushion and placed it beneath his knees.
*”Ta,”* he murmured, then suddenly grinned. His tired, stubbled face transformedsomething tender and almost childlike shining through. Her heart ached unexpectedly. She pitied this lost, lonely soul.
*”Would you would you like some soup while you work? Theres shepherds pie, too”* The words tumbled out before she knew why.
*”Shepherds pie”* he sighed. *”God, its been years”* He looked up, hopeful yet sheepish.
*”Right then, wait there!”* Flushing, she hurried to the kitchen, giddy as though performing some vital task.
Meanwhile, the handymanthough focused on his workkept catching the rich scents wafting from the kitchen. The house filled with the aroma of roasting meat and fresh broth. To pass the time, he switched on an old cassette player, and Vivaldis *Four Seasons* filled the room.
The cat watched him, tail flicking.
A month later, a couple walked arm in arm through the town squarethe woman and the once-shabby repairman, now smart in a new suit. His eyes shone with peace, the kind every soul yearns for.
Nearby, the Angel sat beside the mother cat, grumbling.
*”You cats are impossible. Nothings ever enough. What more do you want?”*
The cat paced, eyes locked on him.
*”Oh, all right,”* the Angel sighed. *”Be blessed.”*
By the lottery kiosk, a beggar sat slumped. But as the couple approached, he stirred.
*”Spare a bit for a hungry man?”* He held out a trembling hand.
Her husband reached for his wallet, but she stopped him. Instead, she pressed a note into the beggars palm.
*”Miss,”* he said, *”I cant just take it. Swap you for this?”* He offered a lottery ticket.
She froze. His voice was oddly familiar. And beneath his coatwere those bumps on his shoulders? No, surely not
*”Check it on the 15th,”* he insisted, gripping her hand. *”Or Ill be cross.”*
*”I will,”* she promised, tucking the ticket away.
When the 15th came, she searched the square in vain, tears in her eyes. Her husband held her close. *”Well find him.”*
Meanwhile, the Angel sat in a café, wings hidden beneath his old jacket. A black cat lounged opposite him, listening intently.
*”You know,”* the Angel mused, sipping his tea, *”Ive always loved Bachs sonatas. Like raindrops singing”*
He waved a hand, and suddenly, a summer shower pattered around them, each drop chiming like crystal.
The cat stared, mesmerised.
At home, the mother cat purred as she groomed her grown kitten. Biscuit dozed nearby, tail twitching. From somewhere deep in the house, music playedand for a moment, every purr seemed to harmonise with the shimmering rain.
