Bold As Brass

It was 3am, and the air was hot and heady with the scent of the coming storm. The highway stretched monotonously into the distance, the moon my only driving companion now while my family slept. I thought maybe I could keep going without a break, make it to my In-Laws before dawn. My eyes grew heavy, the road blurring slightly as I tried to stay alert. I don’t know what made me choose that exit, but without even realizing it I was indicating and heading for the nearest gas station, the word ‘coffee’ flashing in my mind like a beacon. So strange; I rarely touched the stuff and especially never at night, yet here I was suddenly craving that caustic, bitter kick of caffeine.

The road I was on now badly needed repairs, pot-holes and faded markings making me regret leaving the smooth, black tarmac of the freeway. There were few buildings around, almost as decrepit as the road itself. The whole place seemed deserted and forgotten. Yet there, 500 feet ahead, gleaming like a mirage, was a Wawa garage. I pulled in around the back, away from the other vehicles, hoping not to wake my family.

Slipping out of the car I headed into the store, drawn in by the piquant, nutty aroma of their house blend. I can’t have been in there more than a minute, yet it was in that minute that our lives changed forever. Because that was the moment he found us.

I returned to the car, realizing I’d left my door open by mistake. I pulled it wide open and was about to climb in when I saw him; a bright orange cat, sitting in the driver’s seat like he owned it! I almost spilled my coffee I was so surprised – where did he come from? Somehow my husband and children hadn’t woken, so this was a private moment, just me and the cat. He looked up at me with verdant green eyes, his head on one side. Setting my cup down on the roof of the car, I reached in cautiously, expecting him to hiss and run away. Instead, he raised his head to meet my hand, butting me gently and miaowing insistently. I stroked him, feeling the way his skin sagged in folds, his spine jutted out sharply under my hand. He was clearly starving, and I knew I couldn’t just drive away without at least feeding him.

So back I went, into the store, feeling a little stupid as I searched the small grocery section for cat food in the middle of the night. All they had was tuna, so I bought a can with a ring-pull lid. I opened the tin and set it down on the sidewalk beside me, and my new friend joined me, looking up as though checking this was really for him. I nodded and pushed it closer to him. Suddenly his manners disappeared as he attacked the can with a desperation that broke my heart. Within moments he had emptied the can and was licking it clean long after it was empty. I watched him, how his ribs poked out with every breath, the way his fur stood out in clumps. I had volunteered with a cat rescue in the past, and I knew this cat was dehydrated and in need of more than just one small meal. So I walked back inside the store and found another can of tuna, filling a cup with water from the ice machine. The attendant looked at me like I was insane – who was this wild-haired, sleep-deprived woman and what was her obsession with fish?

“The cat… the cat outside. Does he belong to you?” I asked.

Blank stare for a moment, and then I saw he was looking over my shoulder, his eyes widening in surprise. I turned around, and sure enough, there he was, bold as brass. He had followed me into the store with the same confidence that he had entered my car.

“That cat? No, we think someone dumped him here a few weeks ago. He keeps hanging around bothering the customers. Shoo!” He said, moving as though to leave the counter and chase the cat back outside. I paid for the food and walked back out into the humid night, my furry companion joining me, pawing at the new can eagerly as I tried to open it.

At this point my husband woke up and saw me, sat on the sidewalk with a ravenous and possibly rabid cat, empty tuna cans everywhere.

“Oh no, God no” he groaned, knowing me too well. Only two years earlier I had shown up with 9 tiny kittens in a box that I found abandoned at the side of a different highway. He well remembered the all-consuming round-the-clock feeding and chaos of a house full of cats. By this time my feline friend had consumed the second tin with the same gusto as the first and seemed to realize we were at an important crossroads.

“Please sweetie, get in the car. We can’t just take a cat in the middle of the night - we’re still 2 hours from home!” He implored.

I climbed into the car, remembering my coffee. I shut the door… and the cat jumped on the bonnet, pawing at the windscreen and mewing angrily. My husband got out, tried to shoo him off, but when he turned around the cat had outsmarted him, and was sat firmly in the passenger seat washing a paw!

“It looks like either we take him with us, or I leave you behind” I joked, and my long-suffering beloved gave in.

“Alright then, but if he scratches me, I’m throwing him out the window.” He tried to look grouchy, but I could tell it was mostly pretense.

The rest of the drive passed swiftly, the cat sprawling lazily across the slumbering children. Every so often our eyes met in the rear-view mirror, and he looked at me with an intensity and confidence I had never seen in an animal before.

We arrived at my In-Laws home just before dawn, tiptoeing into the house in an attempt not to wake them.

“You’d better keep that cat in the basement tonight, who knows what my folks will think about this!” My husband whispered as he carried our kids up to their room.

I walked through the kitchen to the basement door, and the cat walked right behind me, checking out his surroundings like a king returning to his castle. It was as though he had always been there. I lured him into the basement with more food and water, then bolted the door and traipsed up to bed for a few hours of much-needed rest.

3 hours later we were awoken by loud laughter. Our kids ran in, “Mommy, Daddy - Babcia found a cat in her bed!” Sure enough, there he was, our little hitchhiker, sitting proudly in the center of their bed. He must have teleported there, I’m still positive I locked that door.

It seems when a cat knows where it belongs, no distance or doors or difficulties can keep them away.