A White Cat For Christmas

by Cherime MacFarlane

  Every year I have open invites to two separate office parties. The more I considered my situation, the less I felt like working. My bills were all paid up until the end of January. I didn't have a reason to be working during the holidays.

  After a brief hesitation, I decided to go and check one of those parties out. That was a much more enjoyable use of my time. Screw the bank.

  Christmas Eve was the following day, I needed a couple of days off and decided to take them. Hell, I couldn't think of one good reason to be working at all until after New Year's Day. My mind threw in the word alone. Okay, so I might spend a few days alone.

  I'd missed out on a ton of new movies during the year. I could spend some time on the couch with microwave popcorn and catch up. I paid the satellite company big bucks for channels I hardly ever got to see.

  Several books sat on the end table. They looked like good ones when I picked them up back in the fall. One, I managed to read a whole chapter in before falling asleep on the sofa, dead tired.

  I got back in the truck and roared out of the drive, then called the receptionist at the law office to let them know I intended to join the party. I've known all three of these attorneys' since they started out, struggling to make it, just like me.

  Both paralegals are nice to me. It should be enjoyable. The young receptionist told me they would meet at one of the fancier restaurants in town at about 11:00 am. The office party was a brunch affair. I agreed to join them at the restaurant.

  Grocery shopping sounded like a good way to kill a little time before the party. Instead of the usual heat and eat junk, I would get some real food. Steak and crab legs sounded appetizing. So what if I had to cook? Anyone with half a brain can cook that stuff.

  I was going to treat myself to a Christmas feast. I checked out the pastry department. After vacillating between the slice of cheesecake and a whole one, I broke down and bought the entire thing.

  That's what gym equipment was for, removing all the fat after we put it on. I didn't have that much fat on the old bones, mostly because I'm always eating sandwiches.

  But I have breakfast down to a science. Microwave bacon and a small cheese omelet accompanied by copious amounts of coffee, and I'm good to go. Because I never know when I'm going to get home to eat, I try to get a reasonable breakfast. I also keep a bag of beef jerky in the truck.

  While touring the aisles attempting to see if anything else tickled my fancy, I happened on the pet department. I wondered if she really would be able to catch the kitten. Nose to nose with a bunch of kitty treats, I grabbed a couple of bags of different flavors and tossed them in the cart. I wasn't sure why I did.

  Late in the afternoon, I made the turn and Angie's car still sat in the driveway. If the car was still there, she didn't have any luck. Rather than go in the main drive, I took the back route. No use messing things up for her if she was still trying.

  After unloading the groceries, I caught sight of her getting up from her seat. She was giving up for the day. Too bad! I thought to myself while hurrying out the door and down the driveway.

  A can of cat food sat in the middle of the open space in front of the garage. One raven swooped down and pecked at it, hoping he missed something. I got the picture; the birds made things difficult for her.

  One glance at the woman's face told the story. Disappointment was in the droop of her lips and sad eyes. I tried to encourage her. It was a genuinely compassionate thing she was attempting to do. A twinge of sadness for her and the kitten hit me.

  Time to put the dog out, I opened the door and took a good look at the sky. Clouds were moving in. It seemed we were going to get snow. The only good thing about it, the temperature came up to 15 degrees. After several days below zero, anything over that feels warm.

  I got something to eat, then left to deal with the kitten. The big guy was nowhere to be seen when I parked my car off to the side in his driveway. I did notice what appeared to be fresh tracks turning out onto the pavement and guessed he was up and out early.

  Bundled up, coffee thermos in hand, I went to sit in my usual spot. I hoped the kitten would get used to having me around. As soon as the sun came up, I opened a fresh can of cat food and placed it close to the edge of my camp stool.

  With a flutter of feathers that damn opportunistic raven decided to join the party. "You miserable sack of feathers, get out of here!" I yelled.

  Far enough away to keep from being hurt the thing fluffed itself up, turned one black eye in my direction with a grunt, and bitched me out. The miserable bird wouldn't help matters. With all the noise going on the kitten wasn't coming out.

  I got an idea and picked the can up. I walked up toward the house and understood why the old garage had been allowed to go to hell. The big guy had a nice two car overhead door attached garage on the side of the house opposite the side street.

  He probably used the shack for storage until it became too run down to use. I walked around the side of the fancy garage and came face to face with a late model RV.

  Whatever he did for a living paid fairly well. The motor home wasn't huge but looked like it might carry a toy or two. He would be into off-road sports. It occurred to me I was once again getting a bit, perhaps a lot, judgmental. If the guy worked hard why shouldn't he have a few perks?

  Okay, so all our budget ever covered was a tent and fairly light sleeping bags. We got out into the wilderness. The kids and I took advantage of the Alaska lifestyle as often as possible. This man had every right to do the same.

  Today was a holiday for a lot of workers, but it seemed he was out working now. Time for me to climb off the judgment seat and let the poor man be, being alone is enough misery on its own.

  I got on with my plan to lure the damn bird away from what I hoped to do. I left the can of cat food over near the far back corner of the RV.

  They say birds are the descendants of dinosaurs. If you ever have to deal with a raven, you will come to believe they are correct. If ravens got as big as those velociraptor things, humans would be an endangered species.

  I knew the bird was following me. I heard the grumbling about my making it fly around to get what I should give out without a fuss. With the toe of my boot, I pushed the can just under the body of the vehicle. Let the little feathered bastard work for it.

  But the whole scenario was too much drama for the frightened kitten. By 2:00 I gave up. The temperature had come up a lot. If I kept coming back after work each evening, the kitty might get used to me and eventually come out.

  I wondered if I should make things a little harder. There was beef jerky in the car. I broke off a tiny piece and placed the meat right under the edge of the foundation. A little to keep the kitten going might be better than keeping it well fed. If kitty got hungry, luring it out might get easier.

  I hated not leaving the can of cat food for the kitten. Several ravens were fighting over the can I left up at the house. But I needed to go home and get stuff done.

  Bo gave me a 'why can't we go for a walk' look all yesterday evening. I knew he wanted to get off the run. The dog needed a little attention.

  I had one more day and then back to the grind until New Year. After that last holiday, I would work steadily for all of January. It was a long slog until February.

  February is the bad month. Not quite spring and God, how you wished for a break. By then all the State above the Southeast part resembles a grouch from hell. I suppose that's one good reason to party hearty over the Christmas and New Year holidays, that's all you get until spring.

  So, I called a halt to Operation Bag The Kitten while I had enough light to get home and take the dog for a walk. Bo was happy to see me and even happier to see me grab his leash.

  As we walked down my long driveway, snow started to come down. The flakes were of the dry, powder variety. I knew the ski lifts would do a lot of business over the end of December until the First.

  I never got into downhill skiing. Snow boards terrify me. But w
alking in the cold with the dog suited me just fine. Crisp and clean, the fresh air invigorated me.

  By the time we got back to the cabin, my cheeks were pink from our excursion. The dog was happier, and my mood had lightened some. I had several days before work got rough once more. There was still time to try again.

  The steak was good and the crab even better. What's hard about cooking crab? Boil water and throw the legs in the pot. Takes maybe five minutes for them to turn red. I grabbed the slip pliers and attacked the long, spindly king crab legs. With some melted butter in a small saucepan, dinner was served.

  I had one of the pay-for-view movies ready to go. All I had to do was put the popcorn in the microwave. But I had one little problem; I wasn't able to get the picture of Angie's face out of my head.

  The disappointment on her features bothered me. Add Christmas Eve and nighttime to the mix and I couldn't settle. She had worked hard to rescue the cat. The woman has a soft heart.

  My ex-wife said I was a jerk. Truthfully, aren't we all jerks about something? But her constant harping on me about my lousy ways left me wondering if I'm any worse than other guys.

  I don't curse a lot, never have. One real good reason is it's not a good habit to get into with some of the clientele and places I find myself. Judges do not look kindly on witnesses whose vocabulary comprises four-letter words.

  Depositions filled with f bombs do not read well in court. Some clients of the attorney firms I work for are not ready to put up with someone who can't speak a sentence without an epithet of some kind.

  A 'hell' or 'damn' here or there isn't likely to be a deal breaker if it comes out in the heat of battle. Otherwise, a clean mouth keeps the clients coming. Through the years, I've earned a reputation for saying what I mean, doing the job, and being able to mingle in polite society.

  That was another reason I had two standing invitations to office parties with two very high profile attorney firms. I can talk hunting and guns with the guys, and I can listen politely to the ladies. I can laugh and joke around with females without having them think I'm hot for their bods.

  Being able to walk into a firm of attorneys and not have the receptionist and paralegals head for the john or the kitchen is a real big check mark in your favor in Alaska. After all, the secretaries, paralegals, and receptionists run the firms.

  For some reason, attorney firms attract beautiful women. With the ratio of men to women being heavily weighted on the male side, some men can't seem to keep their tongues in their mouths.

  That doesn't mean I don't see and appreciate a good looking body; it means I've got enough sense to keep my mouth shut. By the time most of the ladies reach the point of being educated sufficiently to do those jobs, they are married and have a couple of kids.

  With all that said, the jerk is still in there. Angie will be alone this Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Is my first thought all about how sweet she seems? No, my first thought is 'what does she look like when all the clothing comes off'.

  Truly, men are pigs. Any honest man will admit it. My ex had a point, I'm a jerk, and some things aren't likely to change anytime soon. But I have learned to ride herd on those kinds of instincts. It can be a real pain growing up; you start to understand things you'd rather ignore.

  Darkness fell as I watched through the window. I didn't need a light to tell me where the old garage was. I know every inch of this place and can easily walk down to the garage without a light.

  I knew two other things; the cat was nocturnal, and the ravens weren't. The feathered freeloaders were all sitting on their roost and would be there until morning. I had a better chance to bag the kitten than Angie. I could do that for her.

  The idea must have been simmering away in the back of my brain. The two bags of kitty treats sat on the counter next to the bags of popcorn. It looked like I would work on catching the cat.

  Since I knew where to find Angie, once I captured kitty, I could take it to her. I'm fairly sure she would be quite pleased to have the little thing. With all the work she's put in trying to catch the cat, she would probably be grateful.

  Exactly how grateful? What did I want in exchange for being a nice guy? Those two questions rolled around in my head as I got ready to go out and trap the kitten.

  I can light this acre up like an airport. The driveway can be lit up, and there are halogen yard lights on all four corners of the lot. I often use the cyclone fenced yard in the back as secure storage for vehicles because it is.

  So why didn't I bother to tell Angie that? Because I wasn't actively involved in the rescue and therefore, wasn't putting all my mental resources into play.

  All the lighting can be turned on independently. Each one has a separate switch. I didn't want to scare the animal; I wanted the kitten to come out from under the garage.

  The only lights I planned to use were those lighting the driveway. That would give me enough light to see what I needed to do. Since Angie had knocked down some of the snow close to the hole, I would put out a camp stool and wait for the little thing to surface.

  In the garage, I took down one of my fishing nets. A small landing net would be the perfect tool for a kitten capture. First, it needed to be lured out far enough into the clearing around the garage to flop the net over it.

  That was where the kitty treats would come in. I made a pot of coffee and filled the thermos. It might take awhile. No telling how long it would take for the scent of the treats to work. In the meantime, I planned on being warm.

  With the right kind of boots, underwear and parka, you can be comfortable at these temperatures. With the thermometer hovering at 1 degree above, I could stay out for an hour or hour and a half and not get too chilled.

  It doesn't help that I must stay still, but that's the way it goes. With a full face mask and armed with the net and treats, I grabbed the camp stool out of the camping gear in the garage and went out into the cold night.

  Stars are beautiful when it's cold as hell. They seem to shine brighter for some reason in the frigid air. Sprawled out on the stool, I watched the night sky at the same time I kept one eye out on the trail of treats.

  A few inches past the opening the kitten used was a single treat. Another one sat further away. Two more were spaced a bit further out. All pointed to a nice little pile of assorted treats far enough out that if the kitten started munching, it was mine.

  Patience surely is a virtue. Any good hunter has the patience of a saint. I sat in the cold for about forty-five minutes before the little nose poked out of the hole. Its whiskers bouncing, the kitten snagged the first treat with a paw and drug it into the hole.

  Behind the mask, I was grinning. The scrawny thing was about to be trapped. Once more the head emerged from the hole, and the animal tried to grab the next lump of goodness with a claw. No go. That tidbit was slightly out of reach.

  The entire front part of the cat slid out of the hole, and I stayed still as a stone. It wiggled its hindquarters and pounced on the second treat. This time, the kitten didn't bother to run back to the hole. The hungry cat devoured the food. The kitten was committed.

  Little pointed ears twitching, the animal scarfed up that one and realized a third one lay further out. It finally decided to make sure the area was free from danger. Its little head swiveled all around, but its gaze didn't actually register me sitting in the shadow of the garage wall.

  It sure was a cute little thing, and I saw what Angie did. Its tail and ear tips were still intact. Good. Cats with frost-bitten ears and tails aren't exactly pretty.

  Cautiously, one paw at a time, with its little body lowered into a stalking posture; the kitten approached the pile of treats. I slowly got the net into position and waited. Almost ready to pop the net over it, I gave the little thing enough time to get its tiny nose buried in the pile before flopping the net down.

  For an instant, it froze before a God awful yowl left its mouth and shattered the silence. I didn't give my prey time to do anything. Wi
th its little claws going for the netting, I reached down and picked the cat and the net up. I had the animal and didn't let go until I was back inside.

  I removed the cat from the net carefully and tried to keep one hand on its dirty little body at all times. If I let go, God only knew where it might hide. There were far too many places an animal this small could hide in around the house.

  No, kitty was going on a trip immediately. I grabbed the keys and hit the button on the remote start for the truck. At the same time, I worked to keep the animal from running off.

  Without the net, I could grab the kitten by the scruff of its neck. At that point, I realized how tiny it was. It attempted to get away; all four paws clawed like mad as it tried to get purchase on something.

  As I held it out and away from my body, I wondered if I had anything to put the kitten in for transport. A quick mental rundown left me with the thought that nothing I had would be safe for it to ride in.

  Still holding the cat by the scruff, I placed it on the counter for a minute. Its claws didn't do well on the granite. I pulled one glove off with my teeth and stroked the terrified animal while talking to it quietly.

  "Easy, kitty cat. I'm gonna take you to someone who'll take good care of you."

  I recalled our conversation about 'fixing' the kitty and laughed. Was it a male or female? A quick inspection under the kitchen light did not reveal any balls to be snipped.

  "A girl kitty are you? Sorry, kid, but your new mom will make sure you stay inside and keep you out of cat trouble."

  When I talked to the kitten it seemed to calm down. Driving wouldn't be easy if I had to hold onto it all the way to Angelina's place. Since I was wearing thermals and a thick, lined flannel shirt under the parka, I took a chance and put the kitten inside the jacket and then zipped the thing closed.

  Amazingly, it fastened its little claws into the shirt right about at heart level and was quiet. On the way over to Angie's, I thought about her being alone for the holidays. Alone as I was.

  A New Year's party I had been invited to came to mind. I left the invitation hanging because I didn't want to be set up with a date again. But bringing a date I chose sounded like a grand idea, and I knew who to ask.