Kittens

4^th November 2012

Dear Cassi,

       

The events of the day are those kind that are at once wonderful and terrible all at the same time. It was my pleasure to work overtime today and so came in for a three to eleven shift. Knowing that I was in for hard work I made myself ready.

       

I had come in to work only moments ago and just started my coffee, as is my custom at the start of my shift, when a man came to the front and told me that kittens had been left in the street. I recall that he had a gray beard about him and dirty clothes so I had the impression that he was a street man.

       

Now, you and I are folk who know good and well that those who have fought the hardest can often be the most forgiving of people. This man of the street had a desperation in his heart that could be read in his eyes to find someone to look after these animals. Why he turned to me is a question I never asked, but he did and all I could say was “let’s have a look”.

       

He ran across the street trough traffic and took up an orange department store bag that had seen some use and ran back to me. In this bag were four bundles of fur that had seen as many bad times at their ark and so I said I would see to the kittens.

       

I looked down at those four balls of fluf and could tell by the dry dark spots in the corners of their eyes that they had seen harder days. Thus it came to me that I would need to find them milk in the next six minutes. My first thought was the gas station and so I asked if they sold the nectar of a cow and was told they did indeed carry the product.

       

The poor homeless man who brought the kittens to me offered to buy it for me out of his own meager funds but I declined. In the end I handed a homeless teen a ten dollar bill and asked her to go to the local market and get me cream and tuna for the cats.

       

For the next eight hours the cats were a joy to my clients who took them into the lobby and played with the animals. The homeless have more love to give than many normal folks. Even the hard ones, covered in ink and scars, became as children in holding the kittens.

       

You know I have a chunk of ice in my heart and a sense of duty in my head that gave me no hesitation in looking after these animals. Even with this augmentation there was a part of me touched to see these proceedings.

Guard the tender spots in your heart, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal