Catboy - Eric Walters [55]
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