Ian Parker burst through the front door of the flat and stopped dead in the hallway, eyes locked on his wife, Emily, who was hunched over the entranceway, sobbing loudly. I cant make sense of whats happened, he said, trying to hear over her wails. Your phone died at the worst possible moment, too. Whats wrong, Emily? You look halfasleep.
Its its Whiskers, Emily managed to whisper between hiccups. Hes not home.
What do you mean hes gone? Ian asked, bewildered. Did he slip out somewhere? Could he be hiding in the flat?
No, Emily said, shaking her head. Your sister Victoria she told me Whiskers ran out into the hallway when she and Mark were heading out for a walk. But you know our Whiskers hed never dash out on his own. Why would he brave the street when he almost froze out there? I think she let him out on purpose.
What? Ian clenched his fists. Where is she now? Wheres Victoria?
I think she went to the corner shop Im not sure. Ive searched the whole flat for Whiskers and hes nowhere. No ones seen him. How could that happen, Ian? Could a person really be that cruel, tossing a defenseless animal out into the cold winter?
It wasnt a random person, Ian replied. It was Victoria. Shes done things like this before. Dont worry, she wont be back in our flat today. Honestly, we shouldnt have let her stay in the first place.
A month earlier
Ian was walking toward the bus stop when a gray shape caught his eye beneath a thin layer of snow. At first he thought it was just a stone, but the stone trembled like an old refrigerator left in a cellar. That odd vibration made him stop. He had never seen, let alone heard, a rock shiver from the cold.
Curiosity got the better of him, and he stepped off the pavement to investigate. When he got closer, he realised it wasnt a stone at all but a tiny, grey kitten curled on the ground.
This is something, Ian muttered, scratching his head. What are you doing here, little one?
Of course the question was rhetorical. Any city dweller knows that stray animals are simply trying to survive, and this tiny creature was no different. It made no mewing sounds, offered no plea for help, just lay there shivering, as if it had resigned itself to being ignored. Its only hope was to keep warm.
Ian gently lifted the kitten, brushed the snow from its fur, slipped it under his jacket, and, clutching it with one hand, sprinted to the bus stop just as the trolleybuswell, the doubledeckerrolled in. On the way home he remembered that Emily had often talked about wanting a grey, striped cat, but they never found the time to visit a shelter. Fate, it seemed, had dropped a cat at his feet, and when destiny offers something, you take it.
When he stepped inside, he announced, Emily, Ive got a surprise for you.
Emily looked up, smiling, Youve been spoiling me lately, havent you? Gold earrings, a new phone, cinema tickets whats this time? A holiday at a ski resort?
Better than that, Ian said, unzipping his jacket and pulling the kitten out. I found this on the street. You wanted a grey, striped one, didnt you?
Emily gasped, Hes freezing, dear! Bring him in, Ill warm him up. And you, get yourself cleaned, wash your hands, and head to the kitchen dinners ready.
She turned the kitten over in her hands and cooed, What a beautiful little thing.
Thus Whiskers entered the Parker household. They debated names for a while, tossing around many possibilities, before finally agreeing on the classic Whiskers.
It suits him better than Tom or Lucas, Ian remarked.
Emily nodded, Exactly, love.
The happy incident occurred at the end of November, when the first snow fell, so the kitten never experienced the harsh realities of a cold street. Thank heavens, because for many animals that first night is a matter of life or death.
In the two weeks that followed, Emily and Ian grew attached to Whiskers faster than a plant reaches for sunlight. By the second day they were already smitten, and each new day only deepened their affection. Whiskers, for his part, adored his new owners; he never scratched the furniture, and when he knocked something off a table, they simply asked him to be more careful.
Of course I will! Whiskers seemed to promise, hopping onto the bedroom dresser and, in the same breath, sending the remote control clattering to the floor.
Everything went smoothly until one Sunday morning when a knock sounded at the door.
Who could be visiting at this hour? Ian wiped sleep from his eyes and glanced at the clock it was half past six, still dark outside.
Maybe the neighbours? Emily guessed. Perhaps somethings happened to them?
Ill go see.
When Ian opened the front door, standing on the doorstep was his sister Victoria, holding a small boy of about five, his cheeks rosy from the cold.
Hey, brother, Victoria smiled. Were dropping by. Is that alright?
Ian hesitated, then shrugged. Sure, come in.
Victoria set down a suitcase, looking exhausted. My husband threw me out. Hes taken another woman, can you imagine? Ive got nowhere to go. If you dont mind, I could stay here for a while, at least until I find somewhere else. And maybe we could ring in the New Year together?
Emily sighed, Ian, let her stay just a bit. Shes got a child, and its winter. We cant send her out onto the streets.
Ian waved his hand, Fine, as long as youre okay with it. Inside, a cold dread settled in his gut; something told him this would not end well.
The next day Victoria began to complain about Whiskers. Hes keeping me up at night, running around. He lies on the sofa, stares at me weirdly. She also claimed her son had caught a cold.
Its an allergy to your cat, she told Ian. My little Milo used to be as healthy as a cucumber.
Maybe its just a cold, Ian replied. You take him out for walks, after all. Even if it is an allergy, Whiskers is part of our family.
Victoria laughed, Family, right? I thought youd outgrown the habit of rescuing strays. How does Emily put up with you?
Emily, who loved animals as much as Ian, shrugged. You seem to hate them. What have they ever done to you?
What we cant stand is that they disturb our peace. My son cant sleep because of the cats night antics. When you have your own children youll understand.
Ian fell silent. The subject of children was a sore spot; he and Emily had tried for years without success, and doctors offered no clear answers. Their mother had filled Victoria in on the matter, and it was a raw nerve.
I think the cat should go to a shelter, Victoria said, Milo is my son, youre my sister, and we cant keep fighting over a cat.
How dare you? Ian snapped. Whiskers lives here, not you. If you dont like him, get out. Im not asking you to stay any longer.
He imagined shouting, Give your child to a shelter if youre so clever, but kept his voice in check.
For a while Victoria seemed to calm down, but she still silently resented Whiskers. When Ian and Emily werent home, she shoved the cat off the couch and into the far corner, making sure he barely showed his nose. Whiskers endured the abuse, then began to retaliate: he knocked her phone off the nightstand, tucked a snag in her favourite sweater.
Youre ruining my things! Victoria shrieked. Why even get a pet if you cant teach it right?
She eventually grabbed Milos favourite plush and hid it in her suitcase, stealing it outright.
I wont tolerate this, Ian warned. Youre staying in my flat, so stay away from my cat.
Victoria muttered, All right, all right
On the eve of New Years Eve, Emily called Ian, crying, trying to explain something serious. He left work early, drove home, and found her in the hallway, still trembling.
Emily, are you home? he asked, stumbling in. She broke into sobs again. Your phone died, I cant hear what youre saying. Whats happened?
Whiskers is missing she whispered. Hes not here.
Ians heart sank. Where could he be?
She recounted how Victoria had claimed the cat had bolted into the hallway while she was out, but Ian knew better. He suspected Victoria had deliberately let the cat out.
Later that night, as the clock ticked toward midnight, a soft scratching came at the door. Ian opened it, half expecting Victoria, but there sat Whiskers, shivering, eyes wide but alive. Hed survived the cold night and somehow found his way back.
Emily, hes back! Ian exclaimed, cradling the cat.
They warmed him quickly, fed him, and Emily clutched him to her chest, never letting go. Whiskers purred contentedly, as if to say, Im home where Im loved.
Emily leaned in and whispered, One minute before the New Year, will you open the champagne?
Absolutely, Ian replied, popping the bottle, spraying fizz into two glasses just as fireworks erupted outside.
They raised their glasses, remembering the old saying: the way you greet the New Year is the way youll spend it.
From that night on, Whiskers stayed with the Parkers, a constant reminder that love and care can bring someone back from the brink. And as Emily held him close, she felt a new warmth blossoming in her heart, hinting at a future she hadnt yet imagined.
The lesson lingered long after the fireworks faded: compassion and patience can turn even the coldest night into a chance for renewal, and the smallest acts of kindness often return to us when we need them most.
