He trusted a human again. Shadow the cat perched on the kitchen counter opposite a stranger, her eyes fixed on him as she whispered in a low tone:
What am I to do with you? I told my grandmother I shouldn’t have taken you in
At three years old, Shadow could read every inflection in a voice. He sensed the womans dislike, felt the sting of being unwanted. He knew his former mistress had passed away. That night he lay at the feet of the old lady, watching her spirit rise softly to the ceiling and drift out the window.
The flat seemed newly furnished, the air tinged with unfamiliar scents. Shadow avoided the strangers who wandered through his home, shivering as the oncewarm rooms turned suddenly cold.
One morning the cat simply vanished. The new tenant, Mrs. Evelyn Harper, stepped into the kitchen to feed him and found yesterdays fish untouched.
Perhaps its better this way, she murmured, a sigh of relief in her voice.
Shadow slipped out through the ajar front door while movers bustled in and out. He trod unknown alleys, clambered over fences, darted across roads, steering clear of places that felt cruelly chill. Boys hurled stones at him; he tumbled off a roof twice, yet his resolve pushed him farther from his past life.
Exhaustion finally caught up with him. Hunger roared in his belly, reminding him he hadnt eaten in three days. He turned toward an old fence and saw a small wooden outbuilding, seemingly empty. A faint warmth radiated from it.
Crawling through a gap in the fence, Shadow slipped inside. From the attic a cracked window beckoned. He slipped onto the sloping roof, where a mound of straw lay thick with mouse scent. In a corner lay a faded blanket. He curled onto it, feeling, for the first time in weeks, that he was home. His stomach growled again, but he closed his eyes and surrendered to sleep.
A human voice roused him. He crept to the attic window and peered down. In the garden a girl in a blue dress, her hair in two braids, was chatting with someone while ladling something onto a tin plate. The aroma of fresh food hit Shadows nose instantly.
He focused on the plate; his belly betrayed him with a low rumble. Silently he descended the attic stairs, slinking toward the offering. With a swift leap he seized the biggest bite he could reach and darted away, just in time.
From behind the cottage emerged the girl, her chest bobbing as she called, Come on, love, Ive brought you a treat. A russetcoated dog named Rusty bounded after her, followed by two chubby puppies, Pippin and Milo, tumbling clumsily behind.
Suddenly, Shadow heard a familiar timbre in the girls voicea gentle, warm lilt that recalled the love he once knew at home.
Ah! We have guests! Youre hungry too, little cat, she exclaimed, spotting him near the plate.
He froze, eyes wide, as she scattered a few more morsels onto the ground.
Eat, she said calmly, you look famished. She then poured a shallow bowl of milk, urging, Drink, itll help you.
Shadow, trembling at first, ate every scrap and lapped the milk, his nerves easing. He retreated to the attic, curled back onto his blanket, and fell asleep, certain now that this place was his true home.
Summer stretched on. Every day the girlEthelcame with a steaming bowl for Shadow and a hearty pat for Rusty and the pups. Shadow grew stronger, his coat glossy, his eyes bright. He learned to hunt mice in the attic, presenting a fresh catch to Ethel each time she fed him. She would laugh, Thank you, and stroke his fur, the warmth of her hand echoing the longforgotten tenderness of his former mistress.
When autumn arrived, the air grew crisp, and the first frost glazed the hedgerows. Shadow had never known cold or snow; he stared bewildered at the white fluff that fell each morning, thinking they were ghostly insects.
That evening, Ethel didnt appear. Instead, her grandfather, Mr. Arthur Whitby, arrived in a wooden cart, his cane tapping the cobblestones. From the cottage doorway, the scent of food drifted out, and Rusty leapt forward, followed by the eager pups.
Look at that lot! Arthur chuckled, eyes twinkling. One day the cat will join us, too.
Ethel glanced toward the attic, smiled, and called, Come on, Shadow, were coming. The cat, hearing no threat in the old mans voice, slipped down the stairs.
Dont be afraid, Ethel cooed, brushing his back. He ate, his hunger finally sated.
Lets get you home, Arthur said, gathering the puppies into the cart. Well take you to my farm in the woods, where youll be safe.
He cradled Shadow gently, placing him in a large wicker basket lined with a soft woolen cloth. The cat closed his eyes, trusting once again.
In that moment, he believed in people again. Perhaps animals are the only beings capable of forgiving us completely, loving us despite everything
