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It started when Pearson began complaining of missing cuts of meat.
"It's one thing to take the fishbones, the crappy parts of the animal. Fine. Whatever. But someone or something is taking whole, perfectly good cuts of meat. I'm talking entire rabbits." He crossed his arms in irritation. Dutch laughed about it, but he seemed genuinely a tad concerned who was stealing from the larder. After all, there was only so much food they could get at a time.
"If someone's gettin' midnight snacks, they'd oughtta fess up."
No fessing was done.
Food kept going missing.
Dutch was off worrying himself stupid, though it wasn't really a huge deal. More of an annoyance. Hosea was just trying to make sure he got enough sleep to function and wasn't up all night re-re-re-recounting the contents of the chuckwagon. He really was a lovely man, but he tended to be neurotic at the best of times. He had more important things to worry about than a few lost cuts of meat.
"Don't worry so much, you're going to die before you turn fifty."
"Hosea," Dutch would whine a bit, "I'm probably gonna die before I'm fifty anyway."
"Oh, I'm begging you not to say that, I just hate it." Hosea would say. And then they'd head off to bed -- together, of course.
But then a new issue came up. The Reverend, clutching his bible. (The real one, not the one he stored his morphine in.) He looked rather miserable, moreso than usual at least. When he opened the pages of his book, they were torn and shredded like tissue paper. His face was burning red, he looked like he might cry... So again, nothing really new.
"Someone damaged my... my..."
Dutch took the Reverend under his arm, giving him a solid pat on the back.
"I am so sorry."
Bill was also making a big stink about some damage to a cabinet he just got. He was really proud of that cabinet, and now it had... scratches all over it. He was out for blood, he was waving a rifle around DEMANDING to know which sonuvabitch had made a mess of his brand new cabinet. ("It was CHERRY WOOD! That's... really good, it sounded like! The salesman made it seem like a big deal!") He ended up chasing Kieran down over it, brandishing a hunting knife until Javier came to split them up. But obviously there was something amiss at the Van der Linde camp.
Nobody was confessing, and the scratches indicated that it was some kind of... Animal.
During another silent day, it became increasingly noticeable to Hosea that Jack was... absent. Little Jack was often hard to spot, what with being four years old and practically a speck, but the place seemed oddly lacking in his presence. Abigail was sleeping off a nasty head cold, and John was out on a job, so Hosea felt... For whatever reason, responsible. So he headed off looking for Jack, making sure he didn't get eaten by a bear.
He left the camp, wandering a bit through the thicket of trees surrounding the area only to find Jack sitting on a rock holding... something.
"Jackie, boy. What are you doin' all the way out here?"
Jack squeaked a bit, shoving whatever he was holding behind his back.
"Nuh- nothin'!"
"...What have you got there, kid?"
"Nothing..." Whatever he was holding, it was visibly causing quite a struggle. "Ow!"
"Jack, put it down!"
"No! You're gonna kill him!"
"I'm not gonna kill him..." Whoever 'he' even is. Nervously, Jack brought his prize in front of him, that prize being... A tiny, wet-looking cat. The grey-and-orange creature squirmed and mewled in Hosea's general direction. "...Where did you find this?"
"Outside... and he looked hungry so... I was givin' him food!"
Ohhh...
Hosea looked the cat up and down. It was, in fact, a girl cat, and was mostly dark with white and orange spots. She was small, thin, and underfed, but surprisingly not very aggressive. Maybe she used to belong to somebody...? Whoever might've owned her before clearly wasn't getting her back anytime soon.
"So... this is what's been eating all the food?"
"D-don't tell Mister Pearson..."
"I think he'll understand just fine, Jack." He ruffled Jack's hair. Thank God, Dutch could finally get his rest. He'd been running himself ragged over this wild animal business...
And... well. It was almost Valentine's Day...
Dutch had mentioned, many years ago, an adoration for creatures of the feline persuasion. (They'd passed a barn where an old farm cat was lazily snoring, and Dutch nearly got bitten trying to pet it.) He was almost a little bit obsessed with cats. He'd described them before as dignified and refined. So, while it was a few days early...
"Uncle 'sea, why do you keep starin' at Mister Cat?"
"...You don't mind if I give Mister Cat to Uncle Dutch, do you?"
"Will I still get to see him...?"
"Yes. Of course."
"Then, uh..." Jack nodded. "I guess it's fine!"
"Dutch," Hosea grinned, "I have something special for you."
Now Hosea was the one hiding the cat behind his back, and just like last time, she HATED it.
"It's clearly some sort of animal, Hosea. What is it?" Dutch tried to look.
"I found our meat thief... It was Li'l Jackie."
"Jackie? That's absurd."
"He had help from... A friend." Hosea pulled the cat around to his front, allowing her legs to dangle goofily. Dutch's eyes lit up. "Ta-dah! A cat!"
"A... cat? Oh, she's phenomenal." Dutch took the cat from Hosea, scruffing her deftly by the neck like he'd done it a million times before. "She's- she's a beautiful... Oh! What a majestic young lady you are!" The cat seemed placid in his arms, as if she saw Dutch as one of her own. He had always been rather catlike as people go... He gave her a warm embrace, pressing his face into hers. "...I hate to ask this like I'm a young boy, Hosea, but... You must let me keep him."
"Of course. Who am I to say no?... And you look adorable together." Dutch grinned, cheeks going rosy with excitement."Happy Valentine's Day, dear."
"Valentine's... Oh, dammit. Now my present looks like absolute peanuts in comparison."
"Well, what was it?"
"...An embossed leather wallet." Dutch sighed. "It's a nice little thing, but it's not a cat, y'know? It's just an... object."
"Dutch, please... Seeing you be happy is enough of a gift for me."
"Oh, that's horseshit and you know it! Tomorrow, we're goin' out on the town and I'll buy you anything you want! You want the moon? I'll buy it. I'll pull it down for ya with my bare hands." The cat purred loudly in Dutch's arms, and Hosea smiled, more than pleased with the results of his impromptu gift.
"What're you gonna name her?"
"Name... Why, Evelyn, of course."
"Ev- Evelyn?"
"Like Miller. Yes." He held Evelyn up, showing her off to Hosea. Her pupils dilated, and she looked extremely silly. "Ain't she a dignified and clever enough girl to understand the works of the man himself? She's practically a young philosopher, more than ready to face the world with a mind to match its stature! Aren't you? Yes you are!"
"You're... wonderful."
"She is, isn't she?"
"No, I meant you, Dutch." Hosea laughed warmly. "You're wonderful."
"I- do you not think she is wonderful?"
"Yes, I do, but--"
"We need to go introduce her to everyone! She's a new member of this gang! Evelyn Van der Linde, it rolls off the tongue well!"
"Alright, calm down--"
"Boys! I got someone you should meet!"
And thus, Dutch sauntered off. God, Hosea loved that man.