3. Josh #2
Their mewls increased as I dished some out into the first bowl. As usual, none of them were patient, attacking the bowl at once with miniature ferocity. Their little heads banged together, and one kitten jumped atop another. I grabbed it, placing it on the ground by the second bowl.
“More’s coming,” I chastised. “Hold your horses!”
I peeled back the lid of the second tin and upended it into the next dish, watching as a few more of the kittens descended upon it. I did the same with the third bowl, rearranging the kittens afterward so there was enough room at the bowls for them all to eat comfortably.
The sound of their greedy gobbles amused me.
They always ate like they’d never seen food before.
I gathered up the empty cans as they happily ate, placing them in the trash by the side of the house.
The sound of an opening and closing car door had me grinning triumphantly, but I reined it in by the time I rounded the house.
Dove hovered by the hood of the car, her focus on the ravenous kittens. I’d only managed a few strides before I came to a stop. It was clear she was uncomfortable, because she froze, watching me out of the corner of her eye, hiding behind a curtain of dark hair.
“Hi,” I called softly, and her head ducked further.
I frowned. Shy was an understatement.
“Do you want to hold one?” I asked as I took a few hesitant steps forward, nearly to the front of the car on the other side of her. “They’re friendly, I promise,” I added, in case she’d never held a kitten before. “Just watch out for their little claws.”
Most of the kittens had finished their meal, only a few stragglers were left lapping at the scraps, and they started to wander.
Usually, they kept to the shed that was beyond the barn, where they slept and I normally fed them, but as they’d grown so had their curiosity.
They roamed as they pleased, now. Mama cat had started to leave them for longer periods of time, but she still came back to sleep curled around them at night.
We had plenty of adult cats that ran through the property.
A lot of them were drop-offs from locals who, for some unfathomable reason, refused to take them to a shelter.
She’d been one such stray, having either wandered onto the farm or been tossed there, already pregnant.
Typically, if we noticed a new cat around, we liked to get them spayed if we could, but it was too late for her.
We had plans to adopt out the kittens and take her as soon as we could, because my dad hated when too many cats ran underfoot, but it was par for the course on a farm.
Unlike my dad, I enjoyed them and liked the company they provided. We were in the middle of summer, which meant school was out and there was more farm work. It could get kind of lonely here, just the two of us. They could be annoying little shits, but they were entertaining, at the very least.
A few of them ran over to me, probably hoping for more food, but a few of them timidly approached her.
I scooped up the black kitten I favored, using Dove’s distraction to gain closer distance.
I edged around the front of the car and watched as a few of the kittens rubbed themselves against her leg, purring.
“You can pick them up if you want,” I offered again. The black kitten mewled, swatting at my face.
She glanced up, and a smile curled on her lips as she watched the kitten bat at my nose.
“This one is livelier than the others. He’s a little troublemaker.” I rubbed between his tiny ears, and he attempted to nip at my fingers playfully.
“Could I—” Her voice was soft and hesitant, but she didn’t shy from my gaze when I looked at her expectantly. “Can I hold him?”
I glanced down at our feet, where two kittens gnawed at her shoestrings, and another had curled up for a post-lunch nap in the sun by my boot. The rest had flounced off somewhere else, full and content, likely to find a warm spot to nap. My money was in the loft, surrounded by hay.
“Of course,” I told her, handing the kitten over. His little paws scrambled at my skin before he settled when her hands wrapped around him, cradling him to her chest protectively. He blinked up at her, his green eyes bright against the black of his fur.
He’d been the only black cat in the litter.
In a sea of orange and white, he was like a black blight.
I’d never taken much stake in silly superstitions; how could the color of a cat bring bad luck?
That kind of thing found a person regardless, I more than knew.
It was probably the reason he turned out to be my favorite.
He was usually the one to follow me around, like a four-legged shadow, and the first to find me when it was feeding time.
He liked to climb up my leg and cling to my shoulder if he wanted attention, content to chill there while I puttered around the farm.
If he was somehow bad luck embodied, then bad luck was adorable.
She stroked from the top of his head to his tail with two fingers, her smile growing as his eyes dipped lower and lower with each swipe until he was asleep.
As if a napping kitten in her arms was the catalyst for her courage, she met my eyes head on, finally, and introduced herself. “My name’s Dove.”
Her voice was still soft and timid, but it was progress.
Feeling a tug on my jeans, I reached down to scoop up the orange kitten that had been using my pant legs as a scratching post and leaned against the hood of the car.
“I’m Joshua, but you can call me Josh.”
She nodded, continuing her leisurely petting of the slumbering kitten.
“Are all these kittens yours?” she asked, her voice holding a note of envy.
I chuckled. “Are we keeping them, you mean? No. The mother gave birth here on the farm. They’re almost old enough to find homes, then it’ll just be the usual strays running around.”
She frowned, glancing down to the creature in her arms before her worried eyes met mine. “What about their mother? Won’t she be sad they’re gone?”
Oh boy.
“A little,” I admitted. “But they’re meant to grow up and leave, so it won’t be too hard for her. She’ll likely be thankful to be free of these little terrors, they’re quite the handful. She’s already gone most of the time, anyway. She leaves the babysitting to me.”
A small giggle escaped her, and pride puffed in my chest. This wasn’t going too badly.
“Are you excited to live on a farm?” I prodded, trying to break her out of her shell a little further.
It did the opposite, her eyes turning downcast as she shrugged her shoulders tightly.
Way to go, Josh.
“I bet you didn’t have a whole bunch of kitties in the city!” I exclaimed goofily, holding up the sleepy kitten in my hand. It blinked its eyes awake and mewed its displeasure at being jostled.
“Oops. Sorry, buddy.” I patted its sleepy head and cradled it a little closer to my chest.
Her timid smile returned. “We aren’t allowed pets in the apartment. I had a dog once… back at my old home.”
Her voice trailed off, and she turned her focus back to the kitten. My dad had told me she’d lost her father a while back, and the house they’d lived in had been too much for Josie to keep by herself. I couldn’t imagine losing both my dad and my home, how terrifying all that change must have been.
How terrifying moving to another new place with strangers must be.
“We have lots of animals here.” I gestured to the stable across the way, and the chicken coop just beyond that. “I’ll show you sometime, if you’d like.”
Her eyes widened as they followed my movement. Her head trailed from the barn to the pasture, where a few horses were grazing, tails swatting at flies.
“I’d like that, thank you,” she answered politely, turning back to face me, but I could see the excitement building in her eyes. I counted it as a win.
Our tentative conversation trailed off. My eyes flicked to the screen door. Lunch was likely done now, and soon Josie would be coming out to check on Dove.
“Do you ever keep them?” she broke our silence to ask. When I slid my attention back to her, her eyes met mine.
I hesitated. “Not usually. We have enough cats running around we have no control over. They kind of turn up when they feel like it, so if we have a litter, we usually give them away to good homes.”
She nodded once, shifting the kitten in her arms so she could rub her face against its soft fur. A tiny pink tongue withdrew to place a rough little lick on her cheek and her smile was suddenly megawatt bright.
It was the first full smile she’d given since arriving.
“But,” I heard myself say, “what’s one more?”
Her head whipped up, cautious hope shining in her bright blues.
“Just…” I glanced back to the screen door.
The coast was clear, but I lowered my voice anyway.
“Let’s not tell my dad, okay? He’s not a huge fan of cats, despite all the ones hanging around.
” I’d have to foot the bill for the cat food, but I didn’t mind.
Dad paid me an allowance; I could do what I wanted with it.
As if delighted by the secret we now shared between us, her smile grew, causing a dimple to form on her left cheek, deepening with her happiness.
“I won’t tell,” she vowed. She pressed her face into the cat’s soft fur again and murmured, “I promise. Thanks, Josh.”
Something... warm flooded my chest. A protective feeling I’d never experienced before. I didn’t have any siblings, someone to care about beyond myself. Was the desire to see her smile that bright all the time normal?
“Come on.” I set the kitten in my arms down, waiting until it stretched and got steady legs under him. “Let’s grab some lunch, and then I can show you around the farm.”
She pressed a kiss to the kitten’s head before setting it down gently, and I suspected we’d be hunting for them the moment lunch was over.
I decided I didn’t care if what I was feeling was normal or not. Dove deserved happiness in her life, after everything she’d been through, and I vowed to make it my top priority from this point on.