December 2010
Fred trudged along the icy street searching for somewhere to shelter from the biting wind. He had had to abandon his usual place, behind the cafe where scraps of thrown out food sometimes came his way, when the drunken yobs had come, jeering and shouting, throwing cans at him. He had run. Back to the wind swept High Street. Christmas lights twinkled, the tree with its coloured stars, sparkled with the snow that had begun to fall. People hurried by, laden with bags and parcels, the Salvation Army band played carols. ‘Goodwill to all.’ ‘We wish you a merry Christmas.’ There was not a lot of goodwill, there is nothing merry about living on the street. Fred struggled on, head down against the driving snow. Trees twinkled in the windows of the row of houses. Holly wreathes hung on the front doors, Fred gazed longingly through the windows where bright fires glowed and people sat relaxed and warm. Fred hesitated by the first gate, trying to summon the courage to go to the door. A rough voice shouted, “Oi clear off.” Fred slunk away. It was the same at each house, rejection. By the time he reached the last house in the row he was too exhausted to take another step. Shivering with cold, aching in every limb, his coat heavy with snow, he crept behind a bush by the front door, and snuggled into the corner, too tired and hungry to care what happened to him. Suddenly the door opened and a beam of light flooded the doorway.
“Gran. Look,” A young girl stood staring down at him.
“Oh the poor thing, bring him in.” Gran found a towel and began to pat of the snow . “Come and sit here by the fire.”
“Kate, fetch a blanket. Let me get you a drink and something to eat, we’ll soon have you warmed up.” For the first time in weeks Fred felt warm and cared for, he closed his eyes and slept and slept.
He was still asleep when Kate brought her back after Christmas dinner at her daughter’s.
“Gran, has he been here all night?”
“Yes I hadn’t the heart to send him out into the snow. Off you go then, thank mum again for the lovely day. Night dear.” “Night Gran.”
“Well you’ve had a good long sleep. My daughter gave me a doggy bag, so I’ve got smoked salmon, turkey and sausages, we’ll have a feast. Later Gran settled into her chair and switched on the TV. Fred watched from his chair, yawned hugely, stretched his legs, left the chair and went over to stand in front of Gran; he squeezed his eyes, jumped lightly onto her lap, snuggled down, curling his tail neatly over his toes, and purred loudly.