Saving Hope

Susan sat on the couch, a second-hand futon with a drooping cover and broken springs - a morning show on the television. The hosts chattered with an irritating chirpiness while at any moment reality threatened to shatter around her. Susan took a deep breath, held it, and tried to relax. On a coffee table lay two letters, eviction notices, and she looked at them repeatedly. She now had only a week before she had to leave, and her coming eviction was just one more problem in a compound of failures, each one harder to get through than the last.

Somewhere distant, she heard the sound of an empty plastic food bowl being pushed around, and the plaintive meowing of a hungry cat. Susan stood up, leaving indents of depression behind upon the futon, and walked slowly to the door.

'Hello Puss,' she said. A shabby grey-colored cat, obviously a stray, saw her and backed away, glaring at her with brilliant green eyes. Susan opened the door, stooped to pick up the bowl, and then shuffled back inside. She washed it in the sink, grabbed a can of budget cat food from an otherwise bare cupboard, and put in a good portion. She stood looking at the bowl for a second, not knowing why, before walking back to the door.

'Are you going to let me pat you today?' She asked, moving forward. 'Hmm, I guess not.' Susan put the bowl down and then walked back inside. Standing behind the rusty and broken flyscreen door, she watched as the cat moved forward and attacked the food. Even though his fur was dirty and matted, it was possible to see that he was once a very beautiful cat - A bit like me, Susan thought. She continued to watch as he finished eating and then moved away to clean himself and stretch in the morning sun. Susan envied him a little; cats never seemed to have a worry in the world.

They did need to eat though, and it occurred to her that there would be no one to feed him when she was gone, and this worried her. She could imagine him hanging around, waiting for her, getting picked up by a ranger, and … she didn't like to think about what would happen next.

Susan had been feeding the stray for about a week and could get pretty close now without him running away. Maybe I could just grab him, keep him inside and give him constant attention until he settles. Then I could take him with me. She waited a moment, cautiously edged closer and then reached for him. The cat jumped back hissing and spitting, and swiped at her with his claws, drawing blood.

'Stupid! Stupid!' She yelled. 'Why did I do that?' Susan covered her bleeding hand and began to cry as the cat ran away and disappeared into the distance. What if he never comes back? She imagined a future where the poor animal lay motionless by the side of the road, or worse, faced a slow lonely death by starvation in the bushland. It was all her fault! Then numbness set in -  a self-defense mechanism for the turmoil of her emotions.

The next morning, the television was off, and she was nervously waiting by her open front door, with a new plan of action that had occurred to her late the night before. When the cat came looking for his food, instead of putting it outside the door, she placed it down in the entry. Not too far in, but just enough that the cat would have to actually come inside to eat. He looked at her quizzically, and for a time did not move from his normal position … he was almost saying, what are you doing this for? This is where I eat. He meowed disapprovingly.

'If you want your food you're going to have to come inside,' Susan said. Almost on cue, the cat hesitantly placed a front leg over the threshold, and then the next, taking it slowly, staring at her with suspicion. Susan watched as the cat walked to the bowl, and once there, forgot his fear and began eating the food. He was so involved in the act of eating that he hardly looked around, and once finished he lay beside the bowl. Susan moved a little closer, but not too close. The first part of her plan was a success, and once the cat decided to leave, she closed the door and carried on with her day. She had many tough phone calls to make, and although she wasn't looking forward to them, the morning's events had given her hope that things might turn out OK after all.

The next day she put the bowl much deeper into the house, and when the cat came in, she stood nearby while he ate. Once finished, the cat looked up at her in appreciation. She had to fight the urge to move closer and pat him, and forced herself to stand completely still. He rubbed past her legs as he slowly departed, and Susan smiled.

The next morning, Susan decided she would sit close to the cat while he was eating. She sat quietly, without moving, an unthreatening presence. Eventually, the cat, accepting that he was not in any danger, gave in to his hunger and ate. There were a million things that she could have been doing, but this was all that she wanted to do. She sat with him for a long time after he had finished, just talking, telling him her problems in a singsong voice. The cat, listening, occasionally appeared to give a meow of commiseration. Susan wanted to reach out and touch him, but her willpower was strong, and she waited until he finally came to her of his own accord. His coat was slightly coarse and oily, and she stroked him with a firm touch that masked her nervousness. He responded for a while with strong throaty purring, and then growing restless, left.

Even though she only had two more days remaining, Susan felt an important milestone had been reached, and she chose to celebrate by ordering a pizza. With time running out,she probably had more phone calls to make that night then any other, but she felt confident. If all went to plan she would have a new place to live, and would soon have an animal companion to share it with … but there was still doubt - Susan was not used to things turning out alright.

She was woken by sunlight coming through her bedroom window. It was later than usual, and the grey cat was waiting, basking in the warmth of the day. When the door opened he rubbed past her legs once again and walked straight inside. He appeared to be more interested in her attention than the coming food, and he twisted around on his back playfully.

'Ahh, so you like me now.' She inferred a yes as he batted her softly with his paws. When Susan left to get the food he immediately stood up and followed her into the kitchen.

'You haven't come this far in before Puss,' she said. A contented purr and his relaxed posture confirmed his satisfaction with the latest arrangement.

He finished his meal with relish, licked his paws and washed his face. Susan took a piece of paper off the kitchen counter, screwed it into a ball and gently rolled it along the floor in front of the cat. He looked at it with some interest, but didn't move… she retrieved the wadded ball and rolled it towards him - it bumped his paw lightly and he nosed at it. Encouraged by this, Susan tapped the paper ball again and was delighted when he pounced upon it and took it in his mouth and shook it in play. They continued in this manner for quite some time until he seemed to have had enough, whereupon she sat with him for a while and patted him, murmuring words of love.

Later that day, Susan went to the Vet to get a portable cage - she was determined to try and capture him the next time he came.

'Well, this is it,' she said, as she opened her front door the next morning. The cat strutted confidently past her to his food bowl, and Susan hesitated before quietly closing the door behind him.

'I'm coming Puss,' said Susan, happy that everything was going to plan. She filled the bowl with food and placed it in the hallway. The cat, as usual, ate happily. Once finished, he wandered around the house, investigating rooms he had not been in before.

'I'm glad you're happy to look around, but don't get too settled.' The cat stopped and listened to her, and Susan, as she looked back at him was filled with an overflowing of happiness and love for this creature. He was now, for all intents and purposes, hers. She envisaged her new pet with a clean and silky grey coat, could see the scratch post and mouse toys that she would buy him, and imagined the two of them sitting together on a more comfortable couch in much grander surroundings.

It was time to make the final step. The cat was now in her living room, sitting upon the futon. Susan readied the cage in the centre of the room - immediately the cat tensed, his eyes widened as he stared at the cage.

'So you have seen one of these before Puss? Don't worry, it's not too bad.' Susan went forward to pick up the cat, slowly this time. He allowed her to get close, and Susan tried to distract him by stroking his body softly. He purred, but still appeared wary. Susan cupped his chest with her hands and lifted him up gently; there was hardly any weight to him. The body was warm under the coarse hair, and he had an outside, earthy smell.

'When we get you cleaned up, you're going to be a beautiful boy.' Susan turned towards the cage, and then the cat instantly began to struggle. He squirmed; he wriggled, then scratched and bit and launched himself out of her arms.

'Puss!' he began to run around the room, continuously throwing himself against the front door and then running away again. Susan could not get close to him, as he ran under the futon, over the TV, up on the kitchen bench. Glasses and knickknacks came crashing down in his wake.

'Stop Puss! Please…' but he would not calm from his escalating frenzy. Not knowing what else to do, she opened the front door and allowed the cat to escape, and her dreams left with him…

Susan kicked the door, hard, and then began to cry. She still had one more day, and she was determined to make it a good one for them both. She left the house and found a late night supermarket, and purchased some quality chicken and tuna. She was going to make his last meal special…

The next morning, Susan opened the door to let the cat inside, and he walked in as if nothing had happened. The cage was still sitting where it had been the night before, and the cat walked right past it and followed her to the kitchen.

'I have a special treat for you today Puss.' Susan said, going to the fridge to collect a plate full of chicken and tuna. The cat put his head up to smell the air, and when Susan returned and sat on the floor holding the plate, the cat climbed onto her meowing loudly for the food.

'No no no,' she said pushing the cat down lightly, 'I'm going to hand feed you this time.' Susan offered him a piece of tuna. The cat appeared hesitant for a second, and then gave a slight throaty purr before taking the food. It was the first time that Susan had really seen his little sharp pointy teeth, and as he ate, he made happy breathing and chewing noises. He turned his head sideways for the next piece, and then, when another piece wasn't immediately forthcoming, pawed at her gently and looked at her with those alluring green eyes until more food came. Susan was enjoying this very much, and could see herself doing this regularly, and she was sure the cat wouldn't mind at all.

With the last portion of meat in her hand, Susan's attention was taken by a noise from outside. She fed it to him and then stood up and walked towards the door. The cat followed her and lay at her feet, and she bent down and stroked him gently, and then, without hesitation or fear, picked him up. The cat felt completely relaxed in her arms, and Susan looked out through the tattered flyscreen towards their future.

The End.