by H. L. Logan
“Sure thing, that’s right over there.” She pointed.
I selected a small bag of generic kitty litter and a small bag of dry cat food, paused, and then put them back and exchanged them for larger bags. Why shouldn’t I keep him? Turn him over to Pampered Paws and he probably would never be adopted, considering the customer base here probably changed every 50 years.
I lugged the bags onto the counter, and the lady scanned them. “You a new owner? I’ve never seen you around before,” she said, smiling brightly.
“Yeah, something like that,” I said. “Actually, I found this cat just out in the storm the other day.”
Patty’s smile disappeared. “Really? Is he a black cat?” she asked.
I frowned. “Yes?”
“Oh my goodness! That young lady is going to be so relieved. Ma’am, I think you rescued this cat that’d been reported missing just the other day!” She whipped out a piece of paper and handed it to me.
“Missing: Henry. Black cat, five months old,” I said, reading the paper. My heart was already beating fast, but then I read the number to call. Reynold? Young lady?
My mind immediately went to the newcomer I’d seen at Reynold’s gas station. My little guest is her cat? My vision blurred out for a moment as I registered what it all meant.
“Does that sound like your rescue?” she asked hopefully.
“Ah,” I replied, blinking. “Yeah… I guess it does. I guess I’d better call her. Or hell, Reynold is just down the road. I’ll just stop in.” Stop in and meet that girl too.
I had to. After all, I probably had her cat.
Read the rest of Lost Hearts here!