Robert heard a faint mewl. Peering down, he spotted a tiny kitten whose mother was desperately shielding it from a snarling dog. His feet slipped on the rain-slick pavement, unsteady from drink, his mind cloudedhis soul as dark as the autumn night, as though someone had shattered the lamps inside him.
Clutching a freshly opened bottle, he raised it to his lips, hoping the whisky might dull the ache that choked him. The same question gnawed at him: *Why me?* But he had no strength left to search for answers.
Robert had been a brilliant surgeon, his golden hands saving lives even in the direst cases. He worked to exhaustion, fighting for every patient. To him, each operation was a battlefor health, for fate, for hope. Newspapers praised him; the city knew his face. But none of it mattered. He didnt want fameonly the chance to help. He turned down offers from prestigious London hospitals, refused hefty fees, staying loyal to his hometown. His wife despised him for it. She screamed, blamed, accusedbut Robert stood firm.
Then came the day she learned hed rejected another London post. Words flew over the phone. She shrieked that he was ruining their family. Their son sat in the car beside her, but even his presence didnt stop her tirade. She never saw the lorry pulling out.
Impact. Brakes. Court. A funeral. Emptiness.
He clenched the bottle, about to drinkwhen barking cut through the night. Frowning, Robert squinted against the wind and spotted a teen with a pitbull tormenting a cat under an archway. The tabby hissed, pressed against the wall, while the lad egged the dog on:
*”Get her, Rex! Go on!”*
The dog lunged, snarlingloving the cruel game. But the cat, despite her fear, swiped its nose. Something wasnt right. Roberts gaze flicked lower: she was shielding a tiny bundle. A kitten.
*”Have you lost your mind?!”* Robert hurled the bottle aside, splashing through puddles toward them.
The boy spun, saw him coming, and yanked the leash back. Robert scooped up the trembling cat, tucking her against his chest. She writhedthen he heard the faintest mew from below. The kitten.
Gently, he lifted the little one beside its mother. The cat stilled at once.
*”Whats wrong with you? Setting a dog on a helpless mother and her kitten?”* Robert glared. *”If you were my son, Id tan your hide till you couldnt sit. Wheres your father? He teach you this?”*
The boy looked down, shuffling. *”Aint got one,”* he muttered.
Robert stiffened. Pain laced the words. In the dim light, he caught the glint of a tear. Stepping closer, he asked quietly, *”You know what you did was wrong?”*
A nod. A sniff.
*”Mum just got Rex. Wanted to see what commands he knew. Wont do it again.”* He turned to leave.
*”Whats your name?”* Robert called.
*”Arthur.”* The boy paused, eyeing the man cradling the cats.
*”Dont make that mistake again, Arthur. Understand?”*
A silent nod, then Arthur vanished round the corner.
Shaking his head, Robert hurried homejust minutes away. Still in his coat, he laid the rescued pair on the sofa. The cat had no wounds, but one paw seemed hurt. He stroked her head; she leaned into his touch.
*”Youre a beauty. And your lads just like you.”*
He fetched pâté from the fridge, set it on a saucer. The pair devoured it. After, the mother began grooming her kitten, and Robert smiled.
*”Youre a sweetheart Sweetie. Thats your name.”*
Carefully, he tucked them into a gym bag and rushed to the all-night vet clinic nearby.
*”We need a vet, now!”* he burst in.
A young woman stepped forward. *”Whats happened?”*
Robert set the bag down, lifting Sweetie out. *”Her paws broken, I think. Found her defending her kitten.”*
The vet took her. *”Well need X-rays. She might go to a shelter after”*
*”Like hell she will! Shes mine. The kitten too.”*
*”Alright, alright,”* she soothed. *”Wait here.”*
An hour later, the kitten was returnedhealthy, but with mild eye inflammation needing drops.
*”Thank you,”* the nurse said.
*”For what?”*
*”For saving them.”* She smiled and left.
Two hours on, the vet returned with Sweetie. *”Surgery went wellcompound fracture, now set.”* She studied him. *”Youre Robert Alexander, the surgeon from St. Marys, arent you?”*
*”Will she recover?”*
*”Fully. You saved her life.”*
Robert exhaled. *”Couldnt walk by. Some lad nearly got her killed.”*
The vet paled. *”A boy? With a pitbull?”*
*”Yesyou know him?”*
*”Hes my son.”* Her smile faded. *”After his dad died, he fell in with a rough crowd…”*
*”Im sorry,”* Robert murmured. *”You got him the dog?”*
*”He begged for years. After the accident, I thought it might help…”* She sighed. *”Come back tomorrow. Andthank you. Youve found a lucky calico.”*
Over the next fortnight, Robert doted on Sweetie, taking her for check-ups. The kittennamed Caesarsettled in fast. Soon, both waited by the door when he returned from work, Sweetie mewing loudly.
Colleagues noticed the changeRobert smiled more, even showing off photos of Caesars antics. Each vet visit let him chat with Veronica, Sweeties vetsoon just “Vicky.” She confided in him: the struggle of raising a teen alone, working long shifts. She adored animals, but her late husbands allergies barred themuntil Arthur begged for Rex.
The dogs behaviour worsened, so Robert found a trainer. Arthur started visiting, joining Robert to fetch Vicky after shifts. Weekends saw them at Roberts cottage. Three months later, he proposed. She said yes.
They married at home, just family. Sweetie and Caesar eyed Rex warilybut the dog lay calmly, letting Caesar rub against him. Rex bared teeththen sniffed the kitten instead.
*”Caesars won him over,”* Vicky laughed, radiant. *”You gave him a home.”*
Robert stroked Sweeties belly as she purred. *”No. She and Caesar brought me back to life.”*
The cat blinked up at her humans, whiskers twitchingas if smiling. Her job was done. Shed brought them happiness.
