Chapter One

Shadow

I'm guessing that's what got me into the mess in the first place - that I had an intrigued fascination for cats. Especially black ones – I’ve always seen felines as magical, mystical and other-worldly. And I didn’t believe in that ridiculous saying that was nothing more than silly superstition…something about crossing paths with a black cat meant crossing paths with bad luck…?

Of course, every superstition has its origin.

It all began on an average Friday afternoon, when an incredibly long day was finally drawing to a close. I had assisted Dr. Isaac with the daily, routine check-ups, and I was now in the midst of unwrapping my IPOD's earphones when I heard Abbie’s strained voice approaching from the reception area. The satisfied smile I wore slowly disappeared from my lips when she entered the room.

The metallic smell of blood hung in the air as I watched Abbie place the limp little body of a cat onto the examination table, and my heart began to sink at the prospect of having to witness this level of suffering. Of course I was used to it, I had seen a lot in the past week, but they all got better – and they all eventually found happy homes. Anxiously, I wondered what would happen.

In the places where the creature’s blood had soaked through, the the jet black fur was smothered flat. The feline was entirely black, except for the small patch of white at his chest which, if I watched carefully, stirred slightly from shallow breathes. Its eyes were half shut, dull slits of green barely showing life. Even with the injuries, there was something alluringly beautiful about this creature… Then again, I’ve always had a weakness for cats, especially black ones.

A heavy silence filled the room as he laid the stethoscope upon the animal.

As I continued to watch Dr. Isaac’s ministrations of checking the cat, I realized that this was what I wanted to do – to help injured animals, and nurture them back to health. I was sure – so sure – up until he spoke those fated, devastating words.

They would have been most devastating to the family of this cat, had they known.

“These injuries are quite serious.” His voice was barely above a whisper, as his fingers gently felt the cat’s ribcage with matching tenderness. I found it to be an extremely bad sign that Dr. Isaac hadn’t even bothered to remove the collar for a more thorough examination.

Then he stopped, and ran a soft hand over the cat’s side, which appeared to be a sympathetic pet more so than a part of determining the prognosis.

Without a word, he then left me to gape helplessly at the poor cat, as I faintly heard him speaking with Abbie while they rifled through some papers. It was when he returned but a moment later, that the look on his face caused a heavy knot to form in my stomach. My dreaded suspicions were confirmed when he spoke, adjusting a pen in his lab-coat breast pocket.

“Cassie, could you please retrieve the bottles of Barbiturate and Pentobarbital for me?”

Barbiturate and Pentobarbital. Otherwise known as…

“Euthynol…? But he could probably survive, if–”

“I’m afraid the extent of his injuries is dire. And we have a problem with lack of room – he’s too injured to be put in with another cat.”

There had to be another option.

“What if I took a healthy cat home, and then you can care for…” I leaned over, reading the faux bronze medallion that hung from his collar, “Shadow.”

I was too horrified to mentally note how stupid that name was. He probably got that name from a child…

He told me then, that it wasn’t the way things were done, and it wasn’t according to rules. They had to go by policies and procedures.

Policies Schmolicies!

“…Cassie, this happens all the time. It’s the fact of life – you should get used to it if you want to work here.”

Something in me wouldn’t let it sit. There had to be yet another option.

It was then that some unseen, unknown force pushed itself from the pit of my stomach as I watched him walk around me to retrieve the vials himself. It built up inside of me, only to burst out of my mouth when he was about to puncture the cap of the first bottle with his syringe.

“What if I took him?” The determination in my voice even surprised me.

“Cassie, you cannot save every stray that comes here. Some are just not meant to survive.”

Something in the air tensed as though an electrical current was buzzing about us.

Maybe that was when, with those words, the doctor had sealed his own fate.

“He’s not a stray – he has a collar – and a family that cares for him, probably!”

I couldn’t help but imagine a little girl with a tear-streaked face, first to find out that her kitty was missing, then, that in actuality, he had gone on to greener pastures with plenty of mice to play with – to some “farm in the sky.”

“Abbie tried to call the number on the tag but it’s out of service.”

It was fascinating to see the contrast in Dr. Isaac’s expression – one of deep regret that swam in hardened, grey eyes.

“Please, just let me try.”

Recapping the syringe, Dr. Isaac glared at me for a minute, and narrowed his eyes pensively. Then, ever so slowly, a pleased smile crept onto his lips, but still, he said nothing.

“Just tell me what I need to do.”

I couldn’t believe it, but half an hour later, I was sitting in a taxi, a pet-carrier on my lap, with a parcel full of medical supplies at my side that Abbie had wrapped up for me. Dr. Isaac had treated his wound, and gave him something that would beneficially aid with his recuperation, i.e., he was knocked completely out.

Anyway, I assumed it was something like that when I peeked inside to see him unconscious, sprawled out within the case. What kept me from panicking was that he was snoring quite loudly. As glad as I was that he sounded better, a part of me hoped it wouldn’t seem so loud tonight…

© 2008 L'Archange (FictionPress User I.D.: 169918)