Ashton was a streetwise feline who had his share of battle scars and a tired soul to match. He was lingering in his 7th life and wandering the streets looking for…something.

Paul Langley, was a spitfire whose flame was dimming, as was his sight. He was tired of the loneliness and had lost his hope for…something.

It was a cool day filled with light rain and clouds of gray. Paul sat at the window, sipping hot cocoa, watching the day pass him by. His flannel shirt and fuzzy sweater kept him well insulated, but provided no comfort. Tonight, he would enjoy a bowl of soup and a cornbread muffin for supper. He was at the point where eating was a chore, serving only to magnify his solitude.

Tucked beneath a shrub, just a few blocks away, Ash waited for a break in the rain. Feeling the dampness, he knew it was going to be another long light. He could sense the last days of fall and the brisk kiss of the oncoming winter. Growing weary, he tried to keep alert to anything that could be considered a decent meal, for it had been far and few. He soon surrendered to meditation, reaching zen, as the rain drizzled down.

After a few hours, the rain stopped, leaving puddles in the paths of cars and children’s stomping feet. It was the brink of eve, and was hard to discern the dank gloom from the edge of night.

The temperature was falling. As he stoked the fire, Paul was reminded of how his wife enjoyed sitting in her chair alongside the hearth, knitting and humming away…usually a hymn; Bless her soul. The past eight months were lingering heavy on his heart. He prayed for his eternal rest to come soon. How he longed to be with his sweet Em.

Sensing the cold breath of the emerging twilight, Ash ventured on, scouting for a dry place for the night. He had pretty much given up on the food idea, but always kept one eye peeled for a morsel of opportunity.

He decided to saunter down the sidewalk; avoiding the soaked grass and muck. He detested being cold and wet; but dirty paws, Ashton disliked the most. As he made his way down Hanby Lane, he came upon a cozy little bungalow nestled between trees, whose modest boughs cloaked the two pretentious estates on either side. Three steps led up to a comfy padded chair, tucked away from the whispers of the wind…purr-fect for a nights sleep.

Paul was about to sit down for supper when he remembered he forgot to check the mail. Usually bills, he still hoped for a few friendly written words. Unfortunately, he didn’t have internet or computer skills to even coexist in the outside world. Most everyone had evolved past the intimacy of snail mail.

He opened up the door and took a few steps out onto the porch. The street had fallen quiet. The mingling aromas from neighboring concoctions swirled in the air. He turned, lifting the flap of the box just below the light. He found nothing inside, not even an advertisement. With a sigh, he turned back towards the door when something caught his eye. A grey and white ball of fur… “what, pray tell?”.

Paul stopped for a moment and watched the cat as he slept. Surmising Ash was as worn as he looked, he decided to go back into the house; quietly, closing the door behind him. And, as he tinkered about, Paul found himself returning to the window checking on Ash. Before long, he was outside standing by the chair; his insides toiling…something.

Ash began to stir and stretch. Just as he was curling up tighter to conserve his heat, he became aware to his new surroundings. As he gained he bearings, he saw a human standing much too close for his liking. Before Ash could think about making a run for it, the old man began to speak… “Hey, Kitty, you ol’ ragged thing. It seems your outside matches my inside.” Paul let out a chuckle, which had been a rarity since Emma’s passing. “We make quite the pair.”

Ashton wasn’t too fond of the whole “Kitty” term. It was so… human. He was certain this would be the moment the old man would give him the boot. But, suddenly, a gentle hand reached down, scooped him up and took him into the house. Ash wasn’t sure of what to think. But, any apprehension was soon calmed by the amber glow that filled the room.

Paul set Ashton down on the rug in front of the fire and then scurried off. Sitting there, Ash looked about; hoping for an exit. As his eyes darted around he couldn’t help but notice how the fire’s flicker danced against the pictures on the wall. He saw how the room was filled with so many comfy lounging opportunities—endless cushions, pillows and throws. It certainly surpassed his feline imagination.

Then, in a blink, Paul returned with a cup of water and a saucer of goodies: cut up luncheon meat and a little crusty bread all topped with a small ladle of warm broth and a few pieces of diced cheese for garnish. Paul put the cup and saucer down next to Ash, then went over and sat at his favorite chair where his supper sat on a TV tray. He bowed his head, as Ashton watched and whiffed the aromas enticing his nose. As Paul began to eat, Ash soon followed. They both finished their supper and sat in silence, grateful for the food, as well as the company. It had been awhile since either felt…. something.

Ash wasn’t sure what to think the first day or two, but he soon made himself a permanent fixture. Thank goodness, because Paul had already gone out and bought all kinds of supplies for his new chum.

Being so much alike, they quickly found their rhythm… they both liked going to bed early; just to rise with the sun and eat their breakfast, while the morning passed by. Paul finally enjoyed watching life outside the window because there was life, now, inside his own. Of course, Ash watched for birds and for whatever else he deemed worthy of his attention. After all, he was a cat and had to exude that feline attitude. Once in a while, he would see one of his old sparring partners making their way along the unforgiving streets… He remembered his days; his hard, cold, lonely days roaming and searching for things escaping his own necessities. His whiskers twitched as the memories churned with sympathy.

Grateful for their blessings and rejuvenated purpose, Paul made their home a pet sanctuary. Besides the usual food and water, he also put a pet door in the garage so refuge could be found whenever needed. And, of course, Ash helped in his own way. Hard times were inevitable, but if they could make things a little easier…

Life was good….Paul humming hymns and Ash purring along. Their songs said more than any words that could ever be spoken. Their friendship would surpass the proverbial nine and long beyond tomorrow’s horizon.

Their peace came in a shawl of contentment, embracing their hearts that were filled with—something.

-v.