**Diary Entry**
A faint mewl reached Roberts ears. Glancing down, he spotted a tiny kitten, its mother desperately shielding it from a snarling dog. The autumn pavement was slick beneath his feet, and his legs felt unsteadywhether from the drink or the weight of grief, he couldnt say. Inside, everything was as bleak as the evening outside, as if someone had shattered the lamps in his soul.
He clutched a freshly opened bottle, about to take another swig, hoping the alcohol might dull even a fraction of the pain choking him. The same question circled his mind: *Why me?* But he had no strength left to search for answers.
Robert had once been a brilliant surgeon. His skilled hands had saved countless lives, even in the most hopeless cases. He worked tirelessly, fighting for every patient as if each operation were a battlefor health, for futures, for hope.
The papers wrote about him. News segments featured his name. People recognised him on the streets. None of it mattered. He didnt crave fameonly the chance to help. He turned down prestigious London hospitals, refused lucrative offers, and stayed loyal to his hometown. His wife despised him for it. She screamed, accused, blamedbut Robert wouldnt budge.
Then came *that* day. Shed found out hed rejected another London position. The phone call erupted into yet another row. She shrieked that he was ruining their family. Their son was in the car, but even his presence didnt stop the torrent of her fury. She never saw the lorry pulling out.
The crash. The brakes. The trial. The funeral. The emptiness.
Robert raised the bottlethen froze at the sound of barking. He squinted through the wind and spotted a teenager under the archway of a nearby house, goading a bulldog toward a cowering tabby. The boy laughed as the dog lunged.
“Get her! Go on!”
The cat hissed, pressed against the wallthen Robert saw it: she was shielding a tiny bundle, a kitten.
“Have you lost your mind?” Robert hurled the bottle aside and splashed through puddles toward them. The boy spun around, eyes wide, yanking the dogs lead as he stumbled back. Robert scooped up the trembling cat. She fought at firstuntil a weak mew sounded at his feet. The kitten.
Gently, he placed them together. The cat instantly stilled.
“Whats wrong with you?” Robert glared at the boy. “Setting a dog on a defenceless mother and her kitten? If you were mine, youd get the thrashing of your life! Wheres your father? Did he teach you this?”
The boys gaze dropped. “Hes gone,” he mumbled.
Something in his voice made Robert pause. A tear glinted on the boys cheek.
“Do you even understand how cruel that was?”
The boy sniffed. “Mum just got me Bruno. II just wanted to see if hed obey commands. Im sorry. Wont do it again.” He turned to leave.
“Whats your name?” Robert called.
“Arthur.”
“Dont make that mistake again, Arthur. Understood?”
The boy nodded silently and vanished around the corner.
Robert hurried home, cradling the cats. His flat was just minutes away. He barely bothered with the door, carefully settling his new companions on the sofa. The tabby had no visible wounds, but one paw seemed injured. Robert stroked her head, and she leaned into his touch.
“Youre a beauty. And this little one takes after you,” he murmured.
He rummaged through the fridge, serving them leftover chicken on a saucer. They devoured it hungrily. As the mother groomed her kitten, Robert smiled.
“Youre so gentle *Gentle*. Thats your name.”
After bundling them into a carrier, he rushed to the 24-hour vet nearby.
“We need helpnow!” he burst in.
A young woman hurried over. “Whats happened?”
Robert unzipped the carrier. “Her paws brokendisplaced, I think. Found her defending her kitten from a dog.”
The vet took Gentle for X-rays. An assistant examined the kittenhealthy, save for mildly infected eyes.
“Thank you,” the assistant said earnestly.
“For what?”
“For not walking past.”
Hours later, the vet returned. “Surgery went well. Shell recover.” Then she hesitated. “Youre Robert Allerton, arent you? The surgeon from St. Marys?”
Robert barely nodded. “Shell be alright?”
“Yes. You saved her life.” Her expression faltered. “That boy with the dog was he tall, dark-haired?”
Robert stiffened. “You know him?”
“Hes my son.” Her voice wavered. “After his dad died, he fell in with the wrong crowd. I thought the dog might help”
Robert exhaled. “I didnt realise.”
She forced a smile. “Youve got a calicothree-coloured luck. Bring her back tomorrow.”
Over the next fortnight, Robert doted on Gentle and her kittennow christened *King*. They curled up beside him at night. Colleagues noticed the change: he smiled more, lingered less at the hospital.
Each vet visit became an excuse to talk with Veronica*Vera*, as she soon insisted. She confided in him: the struggles of single motherhood, fourteen-hour shifts. She adored animals, but her late husbands allergies had barred themuntil now.
Robert introduced her to a dog trainer. Brunos behaviour improved. Arthur started visiting, joining them for weekends at Roberts cottage. Three months later, Robert proposed.
They married quietly at home. Gentle and King eyed Bruno warilyuntil the dog lay patiently as the kitten nuzzled his side.
“Kings won him over,” Vera laughed.
Robert shook his head. “*They* brought me back to life.”
Gentle stretched, purring under his hand. Her job was doneshed brought happiness home.
