Catboy (18 page)

There hadn't been any time. We'd come from the junkyard straight here. At least I knew Hunter was healthy.

“We're going to send somebody here every day for the next few weeks to feed them and help them settle in,” Doris said. “The secret to reestablishing a colony is to give them massive quantities of food so they don't wander off, and to make sure the place is as contained as possible.”

“You mean like with a fence?” I asked.

“Exactly. The whole spit is fenced in,” Dr. Reynolds said. “And someone will be here every day to monitor the situation.”

“Do you think I could come too?” I asked.

“It's pretty far from our apartment,” my mother said.

“Not every day, but some of the times?” I pleaded.

“I'll drive you here some of the times myself,” Dr. Reynolds said. “Now, enough talking, we have to get going. Aim the openings of the cages toward the holes in the ground. As soon as a trap is empty, bring it back into the van.” He paused. “Once we get started, we just keep going, no stopping for anything. As soon as this next car passes, go. Get on your gloves.”

We pulled on our heavy work gloves and watched as a little car approached, heading out of the park.

“Okay, go!”

We jumped out of the van. Dr. Reynolds threw open the back door and started handing out the cages. Doris took the first one, Simon the second, my mother grabbed the third and I took the fourth. I moved as fast as I could while carrying a cage with a crazed cat inside. The cat bounced against the bars.

“It's going to be okay, you're going to be fine,” I said. “Just settle down and you'll be out in seconds.”

I put the cage down beside a hole and fumbled with the latch. When I popped open the cage, the cat didn't seem to notice. It just sat there, not moving, not leaving. I didn't have time to wait. I raced back to the van as Simon and Doris and my mother put down their cages.

Dr. Reynolds had pulled a dozen cages out of the van onto the ground. I grabbed another cage, Sherpa's, and raced back to the new colony site. Simon was running toward the van, and I passed my mother and Doris, who were carrying an empty cage between them. Somebody had gotten out.

I kept moving. Sherpa hissed and snarled as I trudged forward.

“Give me a break!” I yelled at the cat.

I put the cage down and opened the door. Sherpa bounded toward a cement block and disappeared. I grabbed the empty cage and ran back to the van, passing the others running in the opposite direction. By the time I reached the vehicle, almost all the cages had been taken out and placed on the ground.

I had dropped my empty cage and went to grab another when I noticed we weren't alone. A car slowed down and pulled over.

“It's the guys!” I yelled.

Almost before the words were out of my mouth, the car doors opened and everybody jumped out! Without waiting for instructions, they grabbed cages and headed toward the new colony site.

“Sorry we weren't here earlier!” Devon exclaimed as they all ran toward us.

“Just glad you're here now!” Dr. Reynolds called out, and Devon dashed off.

I was grateful for the extra help. Now there were ten of us moving the cats toward freedom.

“Take this one,” Dr. Reynolds said to me. He pulled the blanket off the cage, revealing Miss Mittens and her kittens.

“Sure, of course,” I said.

“Then you come back for Hunter,” Dr. Reynolds said, pointing to Hunter's cage.

Everything had been happening so fast I hadn't even thought about Hunter, but I did want to be the one to release him.

“Thanks!”

Dr. Reynolds grabbed a cage, and I picked up Miss Mittens. I tried to be gentle. The kittens were tucked underneath her, only partially visible. They were nursing. She looked scared, but she stayed down and allowed the kittens to continue to nurse.

“It's going to be okay,” I said to her. “You'll have to carry the kittens out, but as soon as I put you down I'll go back and get Hunter. He'll help you.”

At the release site there was a whole row of cages, some empty and some with cats cringing inside, too scared or confused to leave. I placed Miss Mittens's cage near the center and popped open her door. She didn't move.

“Here you go, Miss Mittens. You take care of those kittens,” I said.

I picked up an empty cage and started back to the van. It was so much easier carrying an empty cage. I dropped the cage and went over to Hunter's.

He was standing, watching what was going on. He looked up at me and let out a meow, like he was asking, Where have you been and what are you waiting for?

“Sorry, I guess I should have gotten you first,” I apologized. “You're the leader now, and I should have let you lead.”

I carried him back to Miss Mittens and placed his cage right beside hers. Even though her cage was open, she hadn't left. She was still inside, nursing her kittens.

I went to open Hunter's cage and hesitated. I was going to come back and visit, but would he be here? Would I be able to find him? Was this the last time I was going to see him? The other cats had either remained in their cages or raced away like their tails were on fire. I didn't think Hunter was going to do either of those.

“Goodbye, Hunter,” I said. “I'll see you again, but it won't be the same. You take care of yourself, and Miss Mittens and her kittens,
your
kittens. I'm going to miss you.”

I opened up his cage. He walked through the opening and calmly looked around. He glanced up at me and walked directly into Miss Mittens's cage. I knew what would happen next.

The two cats touched noses, and then Hunter proceeded to pick up a kitten. He stepped out of the cage and tried to decide which way to go.

“Try any one of the holes,” I suggested. “You can always move later if you don't like it. You're the leader now.”

Hunter trotted over to a hole and looked in but didn't go down. It looked as if he was smelling the hole. He decided against that one and went to the next one, again, stopping at the top. This one must have been better, and he disappeared inside.

I knew I should have kept moving, carrying cats or empty cages, but I didn't. I couldn't leave. I needed to know what was going to happen.

I didn't have to wait long. Hunter came back out of the hole without the kitten. This was the new den. He headed straight for Miss Mittens's cage again.

He grabbed a second kitten, and Miss Mittens took the third. She followed him out of the cage, leaving one kitten behind. It cried pitifully. I had to fight the urge to reach in, grab the little bundle of black fur and take it over to the edge of the hole. I knew it was important I didn't do that. I didn't want to leave my scent on it.

I watched as Hunter and then Miss Mittens disappeared into the hole. I knew Hunter would be back soon enough to get the last kitten.

There was a blur of movement all around me. The last of the cages had been put down and cats were being set free. Empty cages were being rushed back to the van, and Dr. Reynolds was loading, practically tossing, them in. A car had stopped beside our van, and there were half a dozen people, on bikes and joggers, now standing and watching us. No wonder Dr. Reynolds was rushing.

Doris picked up a cage and gave it a little shake, causing the cat inside it to tumble out.

“Sorry,” she apologized as the cat scampered off.

She took the empty cage back to the van. Everybody was hurrying, except for me. I couldn't help them until Hunter came back for the last kitten. I looked over at the hole. Why hadn't he come out? What was he doing? The kitten continued to cry for its mother.

“Somebody will be back to get you soon, little one,” I said. I turned back toward the hole. No Hunter. No Miss Mittens. “Come on, Hunter, hurry up,” I mumbled.

But he didn't appear.

“Everybody, hurry!” Dr. Reynolds yelled. “We have to leave soon!”

The pace got even faster. All around me, people were grabbing cages, rushing, hurrying. I felt guilty not working, but they were doing a great job without me. Almost all of the cats had escaped. Almost all of the cages had been returned to the van. I wasn't moving until the last kitten was retrieved. Come on, Hunter, hurry up. And then there he was—Hunter came out of the hole!

“Took you long enough,” I called out. “What were you doing, remodeling?”

He ignored me and ran over to the cage, stepping partway inside to scoop up the last little kitten. He backed out of the cage. Now all he had to do was bring it down to Miss Mittens and the other kittens.

He started toward the hole but turned and came back toward me. What was he doing? He stopped in front of me, holding the kitten in his mouth. Was he saying goodbye? Was he trying to find a way without words to say to me what I wanted to say to him?

He gently placed the kitten on the ground. It started crying again and struggled to get to its feet. It was so young, it couldn't even stand, and there was something awkward about it.

Hunter looked up at me with his big eyes and let out a soft, gentle cry. I bent down so we were almost eye to eye.

“I'm going to miss you too,” I said. “But this isn't goodbye. I'll be here sometimes, just not every day.”

He gave another little cry.

“I know you'll take good care of everybody. You'll be a much better leader than King. You won't become a big, fat bully.”

I sensed I wasn't alone. I looked over my shoulder. Everybody was standing behind me, a dozen feet away, watching. They were far enough away to give Hunter and me space, but close enough to hear me speaking to him. I didn't care.

“You better get going,” I said.

Hunter picked up the little kitten.

“That's good.”

He took a few more steps
toward
me until we were only a couple of feet apart. I reached over, slowly, carefully, and held out my hand. He rose up on his back feet and rubbed his head against my hand.

“The next time I come back, I'll give you a head scratch if you want,” I said. “But you have to go. We
all
have to go.”

“No rush,” Dr. Reynolds said from behind me. “Take your time. I'm okay with being here a little longer.”

“Yes,” Doris said. “I just want to stand here and watch.”

Hunter dropped onto all fours and set the kitten down on the ground again. He looked up at me, let out a soft little cry, then turned and walked away, leaving the kitten behind.

“Hunter, wait! What are you doing?” I cried out.

He kept walking, but he glanced over his shoulder.

“You've forgotten the kitten!” I called.

He turned away, moving faster until he came to the edge of the hole. He stopped, looked directly at me and disappeared inside.

I was shocked. What about the kitten? He couldn't have forgotten it. Open mouthed, I turned to Dr. Reynolds.

“The kitten…he didn't take the kitten,” I stammered. “He forgot it.”

“I don't think so,” Dr. Reynolds said as he walked toward me. “He didn't forget it.”

“He wouldn't just abandon it,” I exclaimed.

“He didn't abandon it,” Dr. Reynolds said. “He
gave
it to you.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Why would he give me a kitten?”

The kitten was crying desperately for its mother. It struggled to get to its feet but couldn't seem to stand.

“Here,” Dr. Reynolds said as he bent down and scooped up the little ball of black fluff. “Do you see that?” he asked.

I didn't see anything except a little black kitten.

“Look at this front paw,” he said.

“What about the front…?”

Then I saw. The front paw, the right front paw, was
missing
. That's why it wasn't able to stand.

“That's why he gave the kitten to you,” Dr. Reynolds said. “He knew it couldn't survive in the wild. He knew it
needed
you.”

Dr. Reynolds handed me the kitten. It was so small, it weighed less than nothing.

“But we can't have a cat, can we?” I asked my mother.

“I think you already have a cat. Well, a kitten,” she said. “But it's so small, so young, will we be able to care for it, feed it and raise it?”

“With our help, it can survive,” Doris said. “It will need to be bottle-fed every few hours, and I can do the day shift until it's old enough to do without it.”

“But what about the foot?” Simon asked. “Can a three-pawed cat survive?”

“I have a few three-legged cats in my practice. He couldn't survive in the wild, but he
can
survive as a house cat, and any medical treatment he needs,
forever
, is taken care of.”

“That's so nice of you,” my mother said.

“No, I insist. It's not every day you get to see a miracle happen,” Dr. Reynolds said.

“What are you going to call him?” Simon asked.

I looked down at the little ball of fur in my hands— its eyes hardly open, crying out for its mother. Missing paw, black fur and there on its forehead was a little brush of white, just like his father.

“His name is Hunter,” I said. “Just like his father.” I smiled. “But I'll call him Junior so the two of them don't get confused.”

“Now, we better get going. All of us, including your new kitten,” Dr. Reynolds said.

He and Doris picked up the last two cages, and everybody headed back to the van. I looked back. Hunter was sitting at the edge of the hole. Our eyes met. He nodded his head, and I nodded mine.

“I'll look after him,” I said.

He opened his mouth. I couldn't hear anything, but I knew what he said. “I know you will.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Every Monday morning for ten weeks, students across the Toronto District School Board received twenty-six pages of a new, untitled manuscript. They each read a section, decided what they liked, what they didn't, what made sense and what they wanted changed. They would then email their feedback to me, and the book was edited and rewritten according to their suggestions. The title,
Catboy
, was one of the many suggestions that were incorporated into the final manuscript. While I am listed as the author, this book had hundreds of co-authors. Many thanks to the students of the TDSB for helping to make this book what it is today!