[ IP ] The Life and Times of Dewey the Cat

They named me Dewey, I don ’ t know if it was because they thought it was cute or funny, but they seemed to think it was appropriate. I wasn ’ t too particular about what they called me, I had food in my bowl, and a warm place to sleep every night. Life with them was a dream compared to the beginning. 
 
 My first memory is waking up amongst my brothers and sisters as our mother licked each one of us clean. She was wonderful, and taken from us too quickly. We were born at the tail end of fall, and nature, being the cruel mistress that she is, brought an early frost. Mother rounded us up and sheltered us from the cold with her body. We thought this was going to be a great treat, all curled up against her soft belly, we had no idea what morning was going to bring. 
 
 I was the first one to notice that there was something wrong. I rolled my tiny body over and crawled toward her to get my breakfast. When my nose touched her stomach, the softness of the night before was gone, and it felt too cold. I went up to her face and nudged her, hoping that it was some kind of mistake, but instinctually I knew it was all over. She didn ’ t respond. My brothers and sisters began to rouse from their slumber, and as they each discovered what I already knew, they joined me in a chorus of whimpers. 
 
 We were too young to be alone, and for days we wandered looking for a way to survive. Each night we curled back up together by our mother ’ s corpse to weep. I think it was our cries that saved us in the end. A kind soul followed the pitiful din, and saw at once that tragedy had struck our young family. She scooped us up and her tears joined ours, as she assured us that we would be safe. 
 
 We were given to a rescue, we were fed and bathed and nursed back from starvation, and then as we began to regain our strength, we were sent off one by one. My favorite sister was the first to go, a child with a horrible snub nose grabbed her from the crate we called our home, and declared that she wanted her. That was it. She was named “ Lucy, ” and she was gone. It happened to all of them, they were declared and named and taken, until it was just me. I sat there in the crate, and wondered why I wasn ’ t able to go with them, and then they came. The children were small then, their smiles untarnished from the disappointments of life. I was declared, named and taken to the place I would finally call home. 

