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David stepped out on the sidewalk, barely keeping himself from tripping as he almost missed the step with his hands full. He carefully set the wooden crate of vegetables on the display out front of the store. Taking a step back, he noted the arrangement of the carrots and fixed the top of one of them so that they were all going in the same direction.
“Meow.” David heard a small sound from behind one of the stands.
“Meow.” There it was again. David quickly squatted so he could see what was making the noise. Peering under the display stands, he saw large yellow eyes staring back at him.
“What the fuck?” he whispered to himself.
Upon seeing David, a cat quickly emerged from its shelter and walked unsteadily towards him.
David noticed how its back legs wobbled slightly as it walked, but it didn’t seem to be afraid of him. Just the opposite, in fact. It seemed almost friendly.
As it looked at him with expectant eyes, it made the most pathetic mewl David had ever heard come from a cat. Though, David reasoned, he hadn’t known many cats.
“Meeeow,” the cat let out again, desperate for David to pet him. And David couldn’t deny a request like that. Reaching out his hand, he brought it to the top of the cat’s head between its ears and carefully scratched.
The cat looked unashamedly pleased. Tilting its head up, David got a better look at its markings: mostly black with white paws and a white chest that extended up to its chin.
“Are you hungry?” David asked tentatively.
The cat seemed to know that David was asking it a very important question and answered with an urgent mewl.
David continued petting the cat down its spine and laughing slightly at how it wobbled as his hand got near its tail. “I thought cats were supposed to be graceful,” he said softly. He continued to pet it as he thought what food he might have that a cat would eat and nothing really came to mind.
The cat looked so sad as David stood from the step, that he felt the need to reassure it. “I’ll be right back,” he told the cat.
“Meow,” the cat responded. To David, it sounded somehow despondent.
Feeling somewhat guilty for leaving the cat on its own out front of the store, he walked over to the cafe, hoping Twyla could help him.
Running through a list of possible things for the cat to eat, he stood at the counter waiting for Twyla to notice him.
“David,” she smiled wide upon seeing him.
“Do you have…” David paused. “Do you have some cream?”
“Just...cream?” Twyla eyed him curiously.
“It’s just that there’s this cat,” David said slowly, hoping that would explain everything.
Twyla chuckled. “Well, if I know anything about cats, it's that most are lactose intolerant. They really should have just water.”
David looked a little taken aback, upset that Tom and Jerry had apparently lied to him. “Uh ok, what about tuna?”
“Um, well, that’s probably not the best for it either,” Twyla said sweetly. “They can get used to tuna and not eat anything else. He probably needs normal cat food.”
“It’s a ‘he’?” David asked.
“Well I-” Twyla started. “I don’t know. I was just making an assumption.”
“Oh,” David said, caught up thinking about what he could do for his new foundling.
“I do have some canned shredded chicken that might work in a pinch,” she offered helpfully.
David nodded. “Yeah, please. Thank you,” he nodded again.
As he waited for Twyla to come back with the canned chicken, he glanced anxiously out the window at the store, hoping to catch a glimpse of it sitting out front, but to his dismay, he didn’t see it.
“One can of shredded chicken,” Twyla said, plunking the can down on the counter.
“Thanks,” David said absentmindedly. Shaking his head trying to get the thought out of his head that the cat had moved on, he turned back. “What do I owe you?”
“We’ll call it even for now,” Twyla said.
After thanking her for her help, David left the cafe and walked quickly back to the shop. “Cat?” he called tentatively.
“Meow!” the cat greeted him loudly from beneath the display and walked eagerly to where David was standing.
A sense of relief washed over him. “I brought you some food, but I have to get it ready,” he explained patiently. “And maybe some water?” he asked.
This time the cat didn’t answer, but looked up at him with large watery eyes.
“Okay, well, I’ll be right back,” he said. “So, stay right there.”
Walking into the store, he surveyed the room, trying to think what he could use as a bowl for water and food. He saw some planters with saucers for the water drainage. A local potter had just delivered them so there were plenty already on the shelves. Grabbing two of the smaller saucers, he walked into the bathroom to fill up one with water.
“What are you doing?” Patrick stopped him as he saw David walking back outside holding two of the planter saucers.
“Uh,” David started. Should he tell Patrick? He knew Patrick was at least somewhat allergic to cats, but he wasn’t sure if that allergy extended to an outright dislike of cats. “Just… fixing some of the display…” he said hesitantly.
“Fixing the display with a thing of water?” Patrick said, clearly very perplexed.
“Mm,” David hummed, nodding his head. “Yes, uh, yes. I just needed a little water to fix it.”
As Patrick stared back, clearly baffled, David took the opportunity of silence to exit the store. He glanced into the store through the front windows to see if Patrick was watching, but he couldn’t really tell. He’d have to chance it.
The cat lounged happily in the sun, seeming to have understood David and was just waiting patiently for him to return. Setting the water down, the cat awkwardly got up and walked over to the saucer to smell it. It took a small sip, but didn’t seem all that enamored with it.
“I know what you really want,” David said, sitting on the stoop of the store. He pulled the can out of his pocket and popped the lid. Smelling the food, the cat made an obnoxiously loud meow - one that David was sure the entire neighborhood could hear.
“You like to yell, huh?” David asked it, trying to dump some of the contents into the saucer.
“Meow!” the cat responded obediently.
The cat eagerly pushed into David’s hand as he set the saucer of food down and wasted no time eating. He watched patiently as the cat scarfed down its food.
“David,” an almost exasperated voice said behind him, causing him to stir from his peaceful reverie.
“You can’t feed feral cats,” Patrick continued patiently. David turned to face Patrick. His face was soft as if he were trying to break bad news to him. “Then they’ll just keep coming back.”
“It’s not feral!” David quickly defended. “It’s very friendly.” He reached his hand out to pet the cat as it ate and as if on cue, it arched its back eagerly into David’s hand and chirped.
Patrick sighed. “You have no idea where that thing has been or what kind of diseases it has,” he tried to explain. Truthfully, he was surprised that David wasn’t immediately repulsed by the entire idea of a stray cat considering how clean David was.
“It’s clean,” David said as if he knew for certain.
Patrick took a deep breath, searching for an argument. “Pet it again,” he said eventually. As David did what he said, he peered at its back end.
“I think it’s a ‘he’,” Patrick said.
“Meow,” the cat responded and looked at Patrick with big eyes.
“If he’s this friendly, there’s probably someone looking for him. He’s probably someone’s pet,” Patrick said, rubbing David’s back and sitting on the stoop next to him.
The cat, having finished his food, stretched as it walked to Patrick, but wobbled slightly.
“What’s wrong with its back legs?” Patrick glanced at David.
“Do I look like a vet?” David asked.
Patrick chuckled. “That’s a good idea, actually. Take him to Dr. Miguel. See if he has a chip.”
David grimaced, but knew Patrick was right. This might be somebody’s beloved pet.
“David,” Patrick said softly, trying to console his spouse.
“I think we should take him inside,” David said quickly. “It might rain.”
Patrick glanced up at the cloudless sky. “He can’t come inside!” he protested.
“Why not?”
“Well, for one, we’re a business,” Patrick stated matter-of-factly. “And secondly, we don’t have a litter box. Do you want him peeing on the wool throws? And three, I’m allergic.”
David raised an eyebrow thinking through what Patrick had said. “Like, how allergic?”
Patrick scoffed.
“Like, you need an epipen or more like sniffles?” David asked, trying to gauge if this was a feasible option.
Patrick exhaled sharply. “Sniffles,” he admitted.
“So, what if I take his picture, go over to Dr. Miguel’s and see if he knows whose cat this is and I can pick up some cat food and a litter box while I’m there?” David bargained. “Which means he’ll have to stay inside so we make sure we know where he is…” he trailed off.
Patrick groaned and glanced at the cat who was now rubbing happily against David’s legs. Realizing there was probably no arguing with David, he reluctantly said, “Fine.”
David smirked, pleased with himself that his plan had worked. Taking out his phone, he tried to snap a decent picture of the cat and carefully picked him up. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to mind being held. Patrick picked up the water and food and followed David back into the store.
Patrick couldn’t seem to get anything done. The cat was following him around wherever he went in the store. It was as if the cat knew that Patrick wasn’t a fan of cats and was actively trying to torment him. He meowed every time Patrick would go even near him, eager for Patrick’s attention.
“What do you want?” Patrick finally asked him.
“Meow,” the cat chirped happily.
“You talk a lot,” he told the cat.
“Meow!” the cat answered in a long drawl.
Taking a deep breath, he stared directly at it. “So, what’s your name?” he asked, as if the cat could answer.
“Meow,” he mewled back.
Patrick squatted and finally gave him the affection he was looking for. “Leonard,” he said to it. “How is Leonard for a name? Since you like to sing so much,” he asked the cat.
Leonard chirped back.
He shouldn’t have named it, Patrick thought suddenly. But it was too late.
As soon as David had returned from the vet, he got to work setting up the litter box in the back storeroom. He took down one of the wool throws from the shelf and decided he could sacrifice it to the cat. He had wanted one for home anyway and this would be a good excuse to take it home.
But where was the cat? And where was Patrick?
He walked into the back room of the store to see Patrick sitting cross legged on the ground, the cat curled up in his lap, and Patrick awkwardly holding a clipboard which he was trying his best to write on.
“What happened here?” David teased.
Patrick shook his head in exasperation. “Leonard wouldn’t stop following me around,” he started to explain.
“Leonard?” David snorted at the name.
Patrick blushed slightly. “Like Leonard Cohen,” he explained quickly. “Because he likes to sing so much.”
“Oh, my god,” David shook his head good-naturedly. As much as he wanted to tease Patrick about it, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat pleased that Leonard and Patrick had seemed to find common ground. “Well, Dr. Miguel didn’t recognize him, but said he’d send out an email to his client list about a lost cat. I made an appointment to take him in tomorrow so he can look him over.” He decided not to tell Patrick that Dr. Miguel had offered to keep the cat at the vet’s office until its owners came forward, but that David had fervently declined the offer.
Patrick nodded and absentmindedly pet Leonard who stretched into Patrick’s hand.
“And I got a litter box and cat food,” David continued, watching the adorable scene play out before him.
“Do we have to show it where the litter box is?” Patrick asked suddenly.
“I-” David shrugged. “I don’t know?” Picking up Leonard from Patrick’s lap, he walked to the storeroom and set it in the litter box. Leonard stood awkwardly in it for a second and looked up at David.
“That’s your litter box,” he explained.
Leonard didn’t care and left, shaking his back paws slightly. The bag of cat food on the floor caught his attention and he smelled the corner curiously.
“It’s not dinner time yet,” David said. He took out the throw he had set aside for Leonard and curled it up on the floor. “You can sleep there.” He picked up Leonard again and set him in the blanket this time. Leonard kneaded the blanket, his claws occasionally sticking to the throw and pulling at its threads. David cringed as he saw the blanket slowly become increasingly unsellable, but tried to remind himself that he was going to take the blanket home anyway.
“Leonard!” Patrick heard David exclaim from behind the curtain to the storeroom. Setting his clipboard down on the table, he quietly walked to the counter, trying to hear what happened.
“That was very naughty,” he heard David explain to the cat.
“Meow,” Leonard responded happily.
Patrick could hear a slight commotion from behind the curtain, but couldn’t quite make out what had happened.
“You can’t eat through your food bag,” David scolded.
“Meow,” Leonard chirped.
“I accept your apology, but next time you’ll be in trouble,” David warned.
“Meow,” Leonard replied.
“You’re right, probably not,” David sighed.
Patrick could barely contain the smile on his face. The entire exchange was so ridiculous, he couldn’t stop the laughter as David emerged from the back room carrying the wool throw. After arranging it carefully on the counter, David picked up Leonard and gently set him in it.
“David, you can’t let him on the counter,” Patrick chided.
“This is where he wanted to be,” David defended. “And he can’t jump well.”
Patrick was absolutely flabbergasted at how cavalier David was about having an animal in their store, let alone allowing it to be near merchandise. “He steps in his waste,” Patrick explained.
David shrugged and started putting labels on the jars of foot cream.
“What happened to you?” Patrick asked, baffled.
“He seems clean,” David reasoned. “And he wanted to be in the sun.”
Patrick snorted. “He told you that, did he?”
“Mm,” David hummed in response, petting Leonard.
Patrick exhaled loudly. “Okay, well, I’m going to go home and get some allergy medication.”
“And lunch?” David suggested.
“Oh, my god,” Patrick said softly and shook his head. “Sure, and lunch,” he gave in.
David had insisted Leonard come home with them and Patrick was not about to disagree. There was no way they could leave him in the store overnight by himself. Patrick’s annoyance with the cat slowly waned as he watched David accommodate its every whim over the course of the evening, even letting Leonard curl up on his lap and lazily knead his sweater.
“He matches your sweater,” Patrick pointed out, eyeing Leonard from where Patrick sat on the couch. The only reason he could even tell there was a cat in David’s lap was the pink toes that were sticking out.
“I guess he does,” David pet Leonard softly, causing Leonard to chirp happily.
The rest of their evening remained mostly unchanged by the new addition. That is, until Patrick crawled under the covers to finally go to bed after a long day and he heard Leonard running through the house.
“What the f-?” Patrick groaned, annoyed that he had to get out of bed. He glanced at David who was already very much asleep.
Walking downstairs, he spotted Leonard in the middle of their living room, acting as if he had done nothing wrong.
“That’s how you want to play it?” Patrick asked flatly. He picked up Leonard and brought him into the bedroom. Shutting the door behind him, David roused slightly as Patrick came back into the bedroom.
“What’s going on?” David asked sleepily.
“Just didn’t want the cat destroying the house,” Patrick sighed heavily. He set Leonard down on the bed and hoped the rest of the night would be peaceful.
And to David, it was. David stretched, waking up later than he meant to, and glanced at Patrick’s side of the bed to see Leonard sleeping soundly on Patrick’s chest.
“Morning,” David said softly.
“Mm,” Patrick returned an annoyed acknowledgement as he scrolled through his phone. He had clearly been awake for a while and was trying not to disturb the resting feline who had found his chest the most comfortable spot in the room.
David smirked slightly at Patrick’s discomfort and crawled out from the covers trying hard not to wake up Leonard.
“David, what are you doing?” Patrick asked annoyed.
“Nothing,” David said innocently, quickly taking a picture.
“You did not just take a picture,” Patrick sighed.
David scoffed. “No,” he lied.
“Okay,” Patrick exhaled sharply. Gently picking up Leonard, Patrick couldn’t hide a smile as he stretched. “Let me see,” he held out his hand for David’s phone.
David flipped the phone around to show him the picture he had taken. “Proof that Patrick Brewer likes cats?” David teased.
Patrick frowned at the way his hair stuck up in tufts, but didn’t want to admit the cat looked kind of cute like that.
“Can I send it to your parents?” David asked seriously.
“They’ll never believe it,” Patrick retorted. “But sure,” he rubbed his eyes and realized he had just been petting Leonard. He could already feel the itchiness starting. “Damn it,” he cursed under his breath.
David had promised that he would take Leonard to the vet appointment, but David had gotten caught up in a vendor issue and it was then put on Patrick’s already full plate.
But that wasn’t really why Patrick felt so annoyed. Instead, he stared forlornly at the cat who had touched David’s heart in a way he had never really seen before and said, “So, your real name is Sammy.”
Dr. Miguel had quickly found the chip in Sammy’s back and was able to pull up the owner’s information. He had promised that he would contact the owners and Patrick politely declined his offer to keep Sammy at the clinic until the owner could come, insisting that they contact him directly instead. He wanted to give David a chance to say good-bye.
“Here’s the deal, Leonard,” Patrick said, opting to use the name he came up with and pulled up to the store. “David’s going to be pretty sad that he can’t keep you, but he’ll understand that your owner misses you.”
Leonard meowed sadly. Or, at least, Patrick thought it sounded sad. He was not looking forward to telling David the news.
Walking back in the store with Leonard in his arms, he spotted David dusting a shelf.
“Well?” David asked expectantly.
“Well, his name is Sammy,” Patrick led with the name, hoping to ease into the fact that they had found a chip in Leonard.
David’s face fell. “I figured we would find something,” he sighed deeply.
“Dr. Miguel is contacting the owner and they’ll call me,” Patrick said gently.
David nodded and squatted to pet Leonard. “He looks more like a Leonard than a Sammy,” he said flatly, trying not to let emotion cloud his voice.
Patrick rubbed his eyes, forgetting once again that he had just been touching Leonard. “Damn it,” he cursed, the itchiness setting in.
“Alright, thanks,” Patrick said into his phone, petting Leonard softly. “Well, the owner is coming over,” he said to David after hanging up the phone, who was passing the time by stocking shelves.
“Hmm,” David hummed.
“I guess he lives pretty close,” Patrick continued. “Weirdly, he didn’t seem too concerned?” He scratched Leonard’s chin.
“Maybe because he doesn’t deserve him,” David frowned, stocking the shelves with an odd fervor.
“David,” Patrick admonished. “Cats do this. Sometimes they get out. It doesn’t make him a bad owner.”
David nodded and continued stocking the shelves. Patrick picked up Leonard and brought him to David. “He is pretty cute,” Patrick admitted reluctantly.
“Obviously,” David snipped. “I have good taste in things that are cute,” he said after a pause.
Patrick scoffed and turned when the shop bell above the front door rang.
“Hi,” said a scruffy blond-haired man with a short cropped beard. His smile was wide and friendly. “I’m here for that monster.” He pointed to Leonard.
“James, right?” Patrick said, setting Leonard down, who meowed loudly at the inconvenience.
“Yeah,” James stuck his hand out for Patrick to shake it. “Hey, thanks for calling,” he said, bending down to pet Leonard, who clearly seemed at ease with him. David bristled at the betrayal.
“So, did he just escape?” Patrick asked.
“He’s an outdoor cat,” James explained. “We just moved here. My old neighbors knew about his wandering spirit. And he doesn’t really catch anything because I don’t know if you noticed but he’s got an issue with his back legs.”
“We did,” Patrick said. “But then he might come back for a visit…” he turned towards David who seemed to suddenly be paying attention to the conversation.
“If you fed him, he will absolutely be coming back here,” James chuckled.
David cleared his throat. “Well, we have plenty of food left,” he said, cutting in next to Patrick.
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate the snack,” James said easily. He stood and offered his hand to David.
“David,” David said politely. “David Rose.”
“Oh, like the name on the store,” James pointed to the front.
“Mm,” David pursed his lips. “That’s right.”
“We’re sorry for keeping him overnight,” Patrick interrupted. “We just didn’t realize.”
James waved off the apology. Nothing seemed to phase him too much. “Oh, no worries. It’s not the first time it’s happened. He’s a friendly cat and just goes along for the ride usually.” He bent down to pick up his cat and smiled warmly. “What do I owe you guys for food? Or just plain having to put up with Sammy?” he asked sincerely.
Patrick almost visibly balked at the offer. He had had zero intention of taking any money from James. Even the wool throw that David had “written off” was worth more to Patrick than any money could buy. “If he keeps coming back for a visit, we’ll put the food to good use,” Patrick dismissed.
“You sure?” James asked, letting Sammy rub against his beard.
Patrick glanced at David, a small grin on his face. “Of course,” he said.
“It was really nice meeting you guys,” James said sincerely. “I’ll have to stop by again.” He made his way towards the door carrying a content Sammy in one arm. “And, hey,” he turned back, “if you guys ever need any handyman work, look me up. I came here to work with Ronnie, if you know her.”
Patrick’s eyes widened. “Oh!” he couldn’t help his look of surprise. “We…”
“We’ll be sure to do that, James,” David called as James exited the store, saving his spouse from any awkwardness.
David turned back to the box of hand cream, his smile evident as he continued restocking the shelves.