She Wasnt Alone. An Ordinary Story
A late winter morning dawned grey and slow. Outside, the sound of shovels scraping along the pavement echoed as council workers cleared away the nights snow from the shared walkway.
The front door to the block kept clattering shut as people hurried out for work, collars up against the chill.
Archie the cat sat placidly on the windowsill, six floors up, watching life quietly pass by below.
In a previous life, Archie had been a banker. Back then, money and little else had filled his world, crowding out any other thoughts or interests.
But now he understood, far too well, that life held far more important things.
He knew now that nothing mattered more than a kind glance, the warmth of a loving heart, and a solid roof above ones head. The rest would follow.
Archie glanced behind himthere on an old, sagging sofa, slept Granny Mabel, his rescuer and companion.
He padded softly down from his perch and nestled himself at the top of her pillow, his warm and gentle fur resting just above her head.
Archie knew all too well that Mabel woke most mornings with a sore head, and did his best now to offer what help he could.
“Archie, youre my little doctor,” Mabel murmured with a smile, opening her eyes as the soft weight pressed against her, “Heads better already, clever boy, thank you. How do you do it?”
Archie gave a little flick of his paw as if to say, for him, it was nothinghe could do much more if only asked!
But just then, a low grumble came from the hallway. That was Toby, the familys old spaniel, finding himself ever so slightly put out.
Toby had been Granny Mabels loyal friend for years.
At the slightest stir of unfamiliar footsteps outside, Toby would bark with vigour, determined to let everyone know that no one threatened Mabel while he was on guard.
Thats why, rightly or wrongly, Toby fancied himself master of the house.
What could he have been in another life? Archie wondered as he eyed Toby. A builders foreman perhaps, or a constablehe does love to make a racket. Still, let him have his bark. Maybe we truly are safer with him here.
“What would I do without you, my lovelies,” Mabel sighed, creaking to her feet, “Come on, lets get you both breakfast, and then well have a stroll outside.”
And if my pension comes through this week, well have ourselves a chicken for supper.
The very word chicken caused uproarious delight.
The cat began kneading the sofa with happiness, purring loudly and butting his broad head against Mabels delicate, arthritic hand.
Oh you big softie, you really do understand every word, dont you, Mabel chuckled, utterly charmed. Toby gave a cheerful yap in agreement, shoving his damp nose insistently against her knee.
“Theres real souls in you, and this house is all the warmer for it. My heart doesnt feel nearly so lonely,” she thought with a gentle smile.
“When Im gone, who knows what comes next? People say all sortshard to make sense of any of it.
If I could choose, Id come back as a cat, and hope some kind soul would take me in. I doubt I could manage being a dog, all that barkings not for meIm a quiet one at heart. Or maybe I could. But I know Id make a good cat, soft and loving, just as long as I found a home with good people.”
Blimey, Mabel laughed at herself, What sort of thoughts are these? Thats what old age does to your mind, I suppose.
She didnt notice Archie arching a knowing whisker and casting a smug look Tobys wayas if to say, See, shed rather come back as a cat than a dog.
Now that hed learned to read minds, Archie had to admitit was quite the perk.
And so, life carried on.
