Ever since Toby had lost the one thing most precious to him, he no longer set foot inside his kennel. He now slept out on the bare earth, barely eating, and scarcely noticed the presence of his only remaining friend, George…
Another November arrived. Each day grew colder; more often, the sky was swallowed by a pewter mist, and folk hurried by in thick wool coats and scarves pulled high about their necks. You could already sense winter drawing near, and Toby knew in his bonessoon the snow would fall.
I wonder when theyll put warm hay in my kennel? Ive a fine coat of fur, but the colds begun to seep through at night… the old dog mused, stretched on the damp ground.
He watched the porters idly, as they bustled about the yard, hauling boxes and loading them into hulking lorries, their engines tainting the air with acrid fumes. No one paid the aging guard dog any mind.
What are you doing sprawled out like that? came a voice. The security man, taking a break for a smoke, sauntered over. Youre meant to be guarding the warehouse, not lying about like some pampered pup. Tch!
He spat on the ground with a sneer and strode away. His name was Lawrence. Hed disliked Toby since he was just a scraggly pupfor no reason at all.
Not long after, a bottle green car pulled into the yard. At once, Toby leapt up.
Hello, old chap, called a man in a flat cap, his stubble peppering his cheeks. Come to make you comfortable.
This was George, the kindest and most beloved of all Tobys keepers. He always spared a kind word for the dog, and a titbit of something tasty. Even on his day off, George hadnt forgotten himhed brought a bale of hay to keep out the cold.
George carefully lined the kennel with fresh, golden hay, then fetched from his car a steaming dish of porridge mixed with meat. He waited while Toby ate, collected the empty bowl to wash, and only then took his leave.
Toby was alone once more. Luckily, night was nearly herewhen you slept, the emptiness and loneliness that often sat by his side seemed to vanish, if only for a time.
When darkness at last settled in, Toby made his way to the kennel. He was about to crawl inside when he froze.
From the depth of the hay, two brilliant emerald circles glowed. A menacing hiss broke the stillness.
Toby, ever gentle, regarded the intruder with mild curiosity. Before him sat a scrawny black cat, eyes wide and wild. In her gaze was a clear warning:
Dont try it. Im not to be trifled with.
But despite her fierce demeanour, Toby brightened.
The kennels cramped, sure, but two of us can squeeze in, he decided optimistically.
He took a cautious step forwardand a paw, claws sharp as daggers, slashed the air before his nose.
Hssssss! the cat replied to his peaceful offering.
Fair enough. I can sleep outside, Toby decided placidly, and settled by the entrance to his own home.
At dawn, Toby awoke early, eager for breakfast as always. Turning his head toward the kennel, he spied the cat, fast asleep.
Shes rather sweet, actually.
Lawrence emerged from the portacabin, rumpled and sour-faced. Without a word, he tossed Toby some scraps and walked off.
By rights, Toby ought to have had decent food, but Lawrence never bothered. He simply hurled whatever was at hand. After such meals, Tobys belly often ached, yet he had no one to complain to.
Nosing at the scraps, Toby caught another scent.
The cat! She, unfazed by the looming presence of the yards guardian, sat munching a sausage casing as though she owned the place.
Toby was pleased to share something with herespecially as she was so thin.
As he watched, cat wary, ready to spring, he wondered, Whys she cross? Maybe she wants some bread too? With a sheepish air, he set aside his own crust.
All day, the pair eyed one another. The catsuspicious and prickly; Tobycurious and friendly.
That evening, Lawrence, ending his shift, again tossed Toby some leftovers. The cat fell upon them immediately.
Bloody hell! Whats that witch doing here? Off with you! Shoo! Lawrence exclaimed, recoiling at the sight.
The cat darted behind Toby. For a second, the dog was confused, but the situation quickly became clear. He bared his teeth, hackles bristling, his gaze suddenly steel.
Lawrence gave a derisive snort and, not fancying a scuffle, strode off. The fellow covering the next shift didnt so much as glance at them.
The cat, at last, cast Toby a lookgrudging, but grateful. And Toby pondered,
Lawrence called her witch… Is that her name? It must be, he decided.
He determined that the little cats name was Witch.
When the hard frosts came, Witch retreated to the warmth of the hay again. Toby was reluctant to disturb her but peered inside all the same.
She looked up, puzzled by the sorrow in Tobys eyes. Yet, she shuffled over a little, grudgingly allowing him to curl up at her side.
All night, the two slept pressed close. Never had their slumber been so peaceful.
From that night forward, Toby and Witch were inseparable. They ate together, slept together, and spoke in their own wordless animal tongue.
When George encountered Witch beside Toby the first time, he could scarcely believe his eyesso small and frail, yet unafraid of the old watchdog.
It dawned on him before long: love knows no size or shape, not even among animals.
George saw to Witch after thathe took her to the vet, brushed her matted fur, and made sure she was fed. In a fortnight, shed grown visibly stronger.
Only Lawrence was a bother. Hed convinced himself the black cat brought nothing but trouble, and decided to get rid of her.
He even once tried to poison her, but Toby, ever vigilant, caught the scent and stopped her.
One bitterly cold night, Toby and Witch huddled in the kennel. Toby licked yet another scratch on Witchs earshe was forever getting into scrapes.
Suddenly, their noses twitched. A strange smell…
Toby shot outside, barking with all his might. Fire! The warehouse was alight!
Lawrence came dashing from the portacabin, cursing and panicked before the burning building. Patting his pockets in despairhis phone was missing.
Witch uttered a long yowl. The guard turnedand there was the cat, beside his fallen mobile.
Wretched witch! he spat, shoving her aside, then snatched up the phone and rang the fire brigade.
Toby charged to Witch. She limped away from the smoke, and he went with her. They sheltered from the fire in a clump of bushes.
When the flames were put out, Lawrence threw Witch a look dark with hate as he left.
Next evening, Toby overheard a conversation at the security office:
I tell you, that cats a curse. Did you see her eyes? Proper witch! Lawrence was insisting.
So whats your plan? someone replied coolly.
Take her to the woodssimple.
Toby froze. His heart clenched. He pressed himself close to sleeping Witch.
Have you lost your mind? Shell die! George protested.
I couldnt care less. The fire wasnt enough?
Mind, its said black cats bring bad luck… someone chimed in.
No ones taking her anywhere. Dont be ridiculous, George snapped, and walked off.
Morning came. Toby awoke, stretched, yawnedinstinctively sniffing for sleeping Witch.
But she was gone.
He rifled through the haynothing. Bolted outside, prowled about, whining quietly.
A black shadow flitted by the portacabin. Toby darted over.
It was just a plastic bag, rustling in the wind.
Then the door creaked open.
Whats this, then? Looking for your sweetheart? Lawrence purred nastily. Shes not here. Causing trouble elsewhere now.
Toby stared at his face, searching for any other meaning.
Well… she wont cause trouble now. Give it a day or two, shell be dead in the woods. If she isnt already.
Toby made no sound. Even his howl of pain stuck somewhere inside.
The first snow began to fall. Great flakes drifted onto the unmoving dog.
From the day they took his dearest friend, Toby never set foot inside his kennel again. He lay out on the bare ground, barely ate, hardly noticed George even.
Toby, shes somewhere warm and safe now, believe me. Shes at peace. Do you trust me? George would say gently, sitting beside him, carefully stroking his fur.
I want to go there too. I want Witch. Please… let me go to her…
Earlier, Toby had overheard snatches of conversation from some strangers nearbythey spoke as if he were already gone, no more than a thing. Said he was too old, no use to anyone, that the warehouse should have a new, younger dog, and that it was time to put this one out to pasture…
How the talk ended, Toby never remembered. Nor did he wish toall that mattered was gone.
The snow fell on, unfaltering. Icy flakes landed on his back, his muzzle, his paws, until at last Toby was hidden beneath a dense white blanket. He slowly shut his eyes.
Maybe this time I wont ever have to open them again. I dont want to open them anymore… his last thought flickered through his weary mind.
The world faded to a hush. Toby hardly felt his body, nor caught the scents or the whisper of the wind anymore. But through the closing darkness, a familiar voice broke through:
Wake up, my friend. Come on, up you get! Youre coming with me.
The rest was a blur: Georges warm car, the soft seat, the long, bumpy ride, and strange new scents drifting in from the window.
Sadness had weakened Toby so, he felt ill. Before long, he drifted into a deep sleep on the backseat to the quiet murmur of the car radio…
After a spell, they stopped. George helped Toby out and supported him as they ambled toward a house.
Youll live with me now, old friend.
Toby, for his part, hardly cared about anything. But he didnt want to disappoint the kind man, so he made an effort to appear cheerfulclumsily, unconvincingly. Nevertheless, George understood everything without a word.
Come on, as soon as were inside youll seeitll be better, youll see, George winked, opening the door.
No sooner had they crossed the threshold than Toby perked up. A scentsurely the truest scent hed ever knownfilled his nose.
He didnt need to wait even a moment longer.
From the windowsill leapt a small black shadow who dashed toward him. Even before the cat reached him, Toby knewthis was her. His Witch!
Told you she was in a good place, George said, smiling. Did you really think, you soft old lad, Id let those scoundrels abandon your friend in the woods?
But for Toby and Witch, there was no need for wordsthey had so much to share with each other!
When at last the two had chatted to their hearts content and curled up for a well-earned rest, Toby mused: what did that word witch mean, anyway?
He thought of asking the cat, but decided not to. What did it matter? Witch is my friend. And thats all that matters.From then on, the old dog and the little black cat found every day brighter than the one before. Their worries faded beneath Georges gentle caremeals were warm, beds were soft, and the sun poured through the windows just right for napping.
On crisp mornings, Witch perched on the windowsill, eyes shining in the golden glow, and Toby dozed at her feet, safe at last. If ever one of them stirred, the other was always near. Witch, no longer brittle with hunger or fear, would paw at Tobys ear, or curl around his nose, and hed thump his tail, just once, in simple joy.
Now and then, Toby would catch himself drifting back to the old days the warehouse yard, the loneliness, the cold. But then hed feel Witch, purring softly against him, as if to say, Here. Im here, and youre not alone.
And sometimes, as dusk crept in, George would kneel beside them, stroking their fur and whispering, Brave creatures, both. You found each other, and you found me, too.
So the three of them, dog, cat, and man, discovered a new happiness in small thingsshared meals, the hush of winter outside, a gentle touch, a welcome home. And in that warmth, Toby knew with certainty: sometimes, the greatest magic in life is finding the one who was lost, and never letting them go.
