In Part One, a mysterious car slowed down to toss a small box toward Gwen's little homestead. It was still rolling down the berm when her dog Twink discovered it.
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Twink pulled the strip harder now, to get traction.
He dragged the box all through the front lawn.
“Oh, no.”
“Here we go again.”
“I’m going to be sick.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“I can’t help it.”
Gwen stepped out the front door onto the veranda to sit a spell on the swing. This was the shady side of the house in the morning. She sat down and, while the antics didn't surprise her, she smiled. Twink acted such a pup. He'd be along soon, that’s all she cared about. She began to read her paper, glad to take a rest from chores.
Bark. Pant, pant.
She put the paper down. “Tired, are you, old boy? I don’t wonder, a lot of work dragging that old box. What’s inside?” She got off the swing and came down the short staircase. “Let’s have a look-see.”
Twink lay the booty at her feet. She patted his head. “Good boy.”
“Did you hear that?”
“Yes, what is it?”
“A Two Legger.”
“Lady voice.”
“Shush.”
“But maybe she’ll help us.”
“Right, like the other one just did?”
Tear. Rip.
“Oh, kittens,” said Gwen.
“Twink, look. They’re just babies. Newly weaned, too, I reckon.”
The kittens tumbled out and sat at Gwen’s feet, hardly daring to look her in the eye. Nor at Twink.
Bark Bark.
Twink stuck his nose inside the box and pulled out a note. He offered it to Gwen.
“Another surprise, eh, Twink?” She sat on the bottom stair and reached for her reading glasses. They hung from a faux pearl-linked chain clasped around her neck. She put them back on, unfolded the note, and read it aloud.
“It says, ‘To Whom it May Concern.’
"That doesn’t bode well, does it?”
Twink nudged her hand. She laughed. “Okay, I’ll finish reading it.”
He thumped his tail, whined softly, then put his head on her knees. The suspense was too much.
The kittens climbed up her overall pant legs and found her lap.
Gwen continued to read, having captured first Twink and now the kittens' rapt attention.
“It goes on to say,
"‘I am so sorry to have to do this. Please forgive me. Have no choice. Would you keep these fellers, or find them a home?’
"Then it’s signed,
"‘Not Cruel Just Desperate.’
"Now doesn’t that just break your heart, Twink?”
She patted the kittens. They stared at her. For all their noise just moments before, they didn’t open their mouths now. What would she decide?
The three pets sat like statues while Gwen seemed lost in thought. She remembered something from long ago, and this note opened that wound. But like a good surgeon, she just sewed it back up, then smiled at the kittens and her dog.
“Twink, what do you say we expand our little family?”
The two fur-babies breathed in relief. Twink wagged his tail. Then leaned in to sniff and lick the tops of each kitten’s head.
“That settles it, then. Oh? What’s that?”
Twink had picked up the note after it fell from Gwen’s lap. He nudged her hand until she took it from his mouth.
“Oh, I see, there’s more on the other side."
She read that aloud, too.
"‘PS: The dusky-colored one with the smudged markings and sea blue eyes? That’s Scraggles. The black one with the emerald eyes? He’s Murgatroyd.’
"Well, what do you think of those names, Twink? Should we keep ‘em that way?”
Twink gave his ‘yes’ bark. Then, a bit overheated from his ordeal, he took a few laps of water from his drinking bowl, and plopped down on the cool brick walk-way in front of the steps.
The kittens tumbled off Gwen’s lap and scampered over to Twink. They squeezed in underneath his belly, finding safe haven.
Twink just sighed. So did Gwen.
“Welcome to the family, fellows,” she said. “Glad you could make yourselves right at home. Twink likes you, so I guess I better, too.”
She got up from her seat on the steps. One of the kittens, Scraggles, stuck his head out from under Twink and mewed up at Gwen.
“Yes, that's right. And you’ll both make fine mouse-repellent for my barn. Old Whiskers will show you the ropes. But let’s get you fed, first, shall we?”
The front screen door groaned open.
And the hardwood floor boards creaked as she made her way down the dark, cool hallway to the kitchen. It was at the back of the house. Parker had built this place for her. Said the kitchen should be on the sunrise side, to keep the house cool in summer.
She'd become his bride, after waiting two long years for him to come home. He made it through D-Day. He kicked Nazi butt. Survived many battles against all odds. When captured, he escaped. And he continued fighting until the end. Then he came home. To Riley River.
And to Gwen.
Parker received honors. He was a hero. But in her heart, he'd always been one. Still was. And always will be.
That was a long time ago.
She smiled, and put a pan on the old wood-burning range oven. It was still hot enough from breakfast to make something for Scraggles and Murgatroyd.
Warm cow’s milk, freshly milked, waited in two small jugs on the counter. She poured two saucers-full into the hot pan. And put the partly used bottle in the electric ice-box.
While the creamy milk heated, she packed up the other bottle, along with a loaf of fresh bread and a pound of butter, each wrapped in wax paper. And a bowl of fresh eggs.
Her basket was full, now.
But still room for the small bottle of water. It held the herbal, pink ribbon-tied posey that she’d picked that morning from her patio garden. Parker had made that for her, too. All was ready, to take on her morning rounds.
Which could wait until after she fed the kittens.
That ends the story of Scraggles and Mergatroyd's fortuitous adoption by Twink. They are still young, but soon they'll have their run of Gwen's small farm. So we better look in on the rascals to make sure they don't get into too much trouble. Stay tuned.
Story © by KT Fabler - more below:
- HARD KNOCKS and Soft Landings, part 1 of 2
- MONDAY WASH DAY - A Gobbler Brother's Tale
- HONEY, the (Not) Farmer's Wife - A Gobbler Brother's Tale
- "RESCUE ME." "NO, ME." - A Gobbler Brother's Tale
- UP A TREE And Scared Frozen - PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, and PART 4
- BREAKING THROUGH A LONG LINE... To Myself