A Very Meowy Christmas

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A Very Meowy Christmas Page 19

by Patricia Fry


  Simon swallowed hard and said to Rochelle, “Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  “I know, buddy, but what I’m suggesting is maybe using part of your name and part of Adam’s name or just letters from your names to devise a special name for the fox.”

  Before long everyone in the car was belly laughing as they tried out different combinations of Adam and Simon. Mona, Dian, Dona, and Sammi wound up as the most promising contenders, with Mona-Fox coming out on top.

  “I like it,” Rochelle said. “Good job boys. Shall we look it up and see what it means?”

  “Sure,” Simon said. “Are you saying Mona means something? It’s more than just a name?”

  “Most names have a root in some language or culture,” Rochelle explained, “and a meaning. My name, for example, means little rock.”

  “Rock?” Simon guffawed. “Your parents named you after a rock?”

  “I guess so,” Rochelle said. After scrolling on her phone for a bit, she said, “The name Mona comes from several different countries and it has different meanings. They include solitary…”

  “Yup,” Peter interjected, “you guys found her alone, didn’t you and foxes are rather solitary animals.”

  “Mona also means wishes or desires and noble good,” Rochelle continued.

  “So it’s a nice strong name,” Peter said.

  “What does my name mean?” Simon asked.

  “Oh, let’s see,” Rochelle said, scrolling on her phone. “It means to hear and listen,” she announced. It also denotes pure and simple and…hey, get this guys, Simon from the Bible, was also known as Simon Peter. Wow, isn’t that a coincidence?”

  “It sure is,” Peter said.

  “Who was this Simon Peter in the Bible?” Simon asked.

  “One of Jesus’s disciples,” Rochelle explained.

  Adam leaned forward in his seat a little, “What about my name. I was in the Bible, too.”

  “Oh yes,” Peter said. “Your name was given to the first man in human form.”

  “That’s all?” Adam asked.

  “Isn’t that enough?” Rochelle asked, laughing.

  ****

  “This is a kinda sad day,” Adam said quietly the following morning.

  “Why?” Michael asked. “We still have two more days together, and we’re going to have Christmas together.”

  “Yeah,” Adam said, “but Simon has to go home today and I’m really going to miss him.”

  Michael took his son on his lap and said gently, “You have enjoyed Simon’s friendship haven’t you? You two boys really seemed to hit it off.”

  “I had so much fun. I just don’t want it to end, and we live so far away from each other. I’m afraid, Dad.”

  “Afraid of what, Son?”

  “That I won’t ever see Simon again.”

  “Do you want to continue your friendship?”

  “Yes. Simon is just about my best friend ever.” The boy choked up. “I wish we could see each other every day like we did this week.”

  “You know what, Son? I believe that if your mom and Simon’s folks know how much it means to you boys to spend time together, they’ll make it happen for you. We can all make it happen.”

  “Really, Dad?”

  “Well, there they are,” Michael said as Peter and Rochelle entered the room. “Where’s your boy?”

  “He’s having a rough morning,” Peter said, wincing.

  Rochelle smiled down at Adam. “It looks like you are too, huh?”

  “I think they’re just tired,” Peter said. “They’ve been through a lot.”

  Rochelle shook her head. “No, I think it’s more than that, Peter. I think Simon’s mourning a loss.”

  “A loss?” Peter repeated.

  She nodded. “These boys have developed a very close friendship over the last week. They’re going to miss each other something terrible.” She approached Adam. “Listen, we’ll do everything we can to make sure you boys can spend time together. You’ve been such a good friend to Simon, and we really appreciate that. We want to foster that friendship if that’s what you boys want.”

  Adam nodded.

  Rochelle rubbed Adam’s back and whispered, “Simon’s in our room feeling, I imagine, about like you do right now. Why don’t you go see if you can get him moving?”

  “Okay,” Adam said, running toward the staircase. When he saw Rags walk into the room, he said, “Hey, come on Rags, Let’s us guys go hang out together, want to?”

  Everyone laughed when Rags trotted up the stairs in front of Adam.

  “Oh, Auntie’s here,” Savannah said. She called out, “Wait, Adam.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Auntie, did you bring…?” Savannah stopped when she saw the small carrier in Margaret’s hands. “Oh, you did.” She peered into the carrier. “Look at you sweet kittens. Auntie, they look great. Have they been eating okay and everything?”

  Margaret nodded enthusiastically. “Like little garbage disposals. We wormed them and had Bud give them their initial vaccinations. He agreed they seem healthy, especially for kittens born this time of year.” She looked around. “So is Simon taking one or both of them?”

  Peter rolled his eyes.

  “Here,” Savannah said, handing the carrier to Adam. “Take them up to Simon.”

  “Okay,” Adam said excitedly. He looked into the pen. “Hi, Minnie. Hi, Blossom.” He looked up at Margaret. “I think they grew!”

  “They do grow fast at this stage,” Margaret said. “It was wonderful getting to take care of them.” She chuckled and said to Savannah. “I got dinged a couple of times for spending too much time with them and not enough with some of our adult rescues.” She swooned. “I had so much fun.”

  “Well, then,” Peter said, “Maggie, you really should keep them.”

  She gestured up the stairs after Adam and said, “Let’s see what your boy wants to do.”

  It wasn’t long before Simon joined the others, cradling one of the little fur balls in his arms. Adam followed with the other one, and Rags darted past them, landing on the ground floor ahead of the boys.

  “I almost forgot about Minnie and Blossom,” Simon said, approaching the others. “Look how much they’ve grown, Mr. Peter.” He turned to Rochelle. “Aren’t they cute? They’re the coolest cats ever. Minnie was walking all over me in the bed trying to dig under the covers. Blossom laid on my chest and wouldn’t let me get up. I think they like me. Can we take them home?”

  “Gosh, buddy,” Peter started, “I don’t think…”

  Rochelle put a hand on her husband’s chest and said quietly, “I think it would be good for Simon. He has such a heart for animals.” When Peter winced she said, “Be grateful he isn’t infatuated with a great Dane or hyperactive boxer.”

  Peter winked. “You’ve got a point there.” He smiled down at the boys as they played with the kittens and Rags. “This might help him to adjust back to his more solitary life with us and help him not miss Adam so much.”

  “Maybe.” She asked, “Do you want to tell him or can I?”

  “I’d love to do it,” he said. “Simon!” he called. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “About what?” he asked suspiciously.

  “About the kittens.”

  Simon’s shoulders drooped. “So we can’t take them home?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. I have a few questions first.”

  “What, Mr. Peter?” Simon asked.

  “Well, I’m wondering who’s going to take care of them—you know, feed them and clean their litter boxes and play with them so they have enough exercise and…”

  “Train them to a harness and leash, take them for walks…?” Simon said. “That’s me. I will.”

  “Well, I think that’s all well and good,” Rochelle said, “but these kittens will be our family pets, right?”

  “Well, yeah,” Peter said.

  “Then we’ll all pitch in and help with them. There will be times when Simon
’s visiting Adam or playing baseball or something and he can’t be expected to stop what he’s doing every time to come home and feed the cats. This should be a family effort.”

  “I can go visit Adam?” Simon asked excitedly.

  “Sure,” Peter said, “and Adam can come stay with us sometimes if he wants to.”

  The boys looked at each other and grinned. Everyone laughed when they fist-bumped each other, then each of the kittens

  Simon sidled up to Peter and Rochelle. “Thanks for letting me have the kittens. I won’t let you or the kittens down because now I know that animals come first.”

  Peter gave Simon an affectionate head noogie and said, “Yeah, for you, but do you know who comes first for us?”

  Simon smoothed his hair down with one hand, and asked, “Who?”

  “You do, that’s who.”

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