Encounter With Sebastian
Things had been rather quiet in the few months since Old Montgomery died. We grieved for months, as any good family would do. My elder adoptive sister, Missy, took this time to nap. I did too, for that matter. No need to rush over and care for him anymore. No need for crazy antics in order to entertain. My heart felt empty.
Mother, had stopped smiling all together. Old Montgomery was her trusted companion, and had been so for fifteen years. In between naps, Missy and I tried day in and day out to keep her company. She didn’t seem to notice our efforts though. A great depression had seemed to set in her very bones. She napped like Old Montgomery did before his death. Perhaps she too, was dying.
I worried for her. I took to bathing her, and straightening her hair. Still, she would not smile.
“It hurts to smile,” she cried once to Father. I hid myself when she wailed, which was daily now. It pained me to see her so sad. Father always patted her back gently as Mother cried. Then he would pick up the pieces when she slept. Father took up the shoulder of the household management, since Mother had grown unable to. Even he seemed to slump as the days wore on.
Is this what mourning was like? Truthfully, I was saddened by Old Montgomery’s death. He was like a grandfather to me, always watching me when I needed him. Yet, I had never mourned like this. Not even when my birth mother died. Then, I just tried to escape the pain and heartbreak. That is how I met Old Montgomery, Mother, Father, Missy, even the child. When they took me in, I sought refuge from the past. Orphaned, I knew I had a family here the day Mother took me in. This gave me hope, which allowed me to thrive.
The child that lived with us pleaded with Mother and Father to please adopt another so that she would not be so lonely. I began to wonder if this is what we needed to heal our grieving souls. Another to join the ranks of our household might lift spirits and help our hearts to thrive again.
Finally, something happened. It was the second Saturday in November. Father was irate. He threw up his hands and said sadly, “I can’t take this anymore. With all of the current events going on, it’s time we did something for us.” Mother and the child nodded, then they left the house.
Missy resumed her nap. I tried to engage her, but she ignored my pleas. “They’ll be back, Cassidy. They probably went for some retail therapy. It’s nearly Mother’s birthday, after all.” She sighed, and closed her eyes, discussion over.
Somehow, I wasn’t buying it. They had left discussing Old Montgomery, so something seemed different today.
“I understand, but Montgomery has only been gone four months. I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” I heard Mother say. “Then there’s my impending surgery. Will you be okay with another to care for?”
As it turned out, I was right. Mother, Father, and the young child returned with a box. Quickly, they went into another room, and closed the door. At some point, Mother emerged, and approached Missy and I separately. Something was off about how she smelled. Perhaps she had visited a farm. I smelled many others on her. Mother’s hair was disheveled, and her pants seemed to be riddled with new holes.
“Please be patient and kind to our new guest,” Mother said, “and know that I still love you.”
“What an odd thing to say,” I whispered to Missy.
“Oh?” Missy perked up. “That’s right! You are the youngest! Time for your initiation, I suppose.”
Missy stood, swished from side to side, and slowly walked toward the closed door. I followed closely, suddenly nervous. I could definitely smell something different. Was it a cat? Dog? Rabbit? The smells were a mixture, and they overwhelmed me. I felt nauseated.
Suddenly, the door opened. I had to see. I burst into the room, crossing to the back door.
“What’s this? What’s happening?” I chirped.
“Cassidy! No!” the child called to me. “Don’t you hurt Sebastian!”
“Ze-bas-ti-ahn?” I shook my head. Did I hear correctly?
Then I saw him. He was hiding under the child’s bed. Large golden eyes stared at me. They were full of terror. He inched closer to me, and I - well- I was curious. I approached the bed carefully.
“Who are you?” I asked, my eyes narrowed on the golden-eyed child. Yes, he was definitely young, with short orange and white fur, a long nose, and a crooked tail.
“I am afraid. Who are you? What is this place? Am I safe here? It’s so quiet and noisy at the same time!” The young thing crawled toward the edge of the bed, and sniffed my nose.
“Am I safe here?” he repeated.
“Sure,” I said, and turned away. Just then, I was whisked away by Father who said, “You’ll get your time with him soon enough. For now, you need stay outside this room.”
I was left in the hall, the door closed behind Father as quickly as it opened.
I felt betrayed. I was never banished from anything. I had become Mother’s shadow in Old Montgomery’s absence, yet she sat in the room coaxing this stranger out from under the bed. Me- locked out. What was I then?
Replaced, obviously. I retired to a bedroom, where Missy was standing.
“Met the new guy, did you?” She said with another swish.
“I guess? He’s a little thing. Golden eyes, short orange and white fur,” I said.
“Wait! Missy, am I being replaced? The child seems so happy, and she looked upon me unfavorably. What is even happening?”
Missy almost laughed. She stood up, came over to me, and bopped me on the head with her paw. I was beginning to feel angry as these unanswered questions loomed, and Missy’s quixotic behavior made me want to scratch the drapes.
“Relax! They’ve adopted a kitten! I can smell it. You’re not being replaced. I’m sure the child still loves you, but this kitten is new and exciting to her. I imagine we’ll get to know him soon enough. Besides, weren’t you just saying the other day how we needed another in our family? Or did you forget that?”
I relaxed a little. Still, I was uncertain. I retired to my place, and napped. Many a problem could be solved with a simple nap. While I couldn’t help but feel that this was betrayal, even I had to admit that Missy was right. I had wanted a kitten to join us for weeks. Caring for humans is hard work, and Missy was now nearly 14. She was too old and far too grumpy to play with two year old me. Somehow, the child’s requests had made everyone desire a new guest.
A couple of days later, we were formally introduced. Mother took me, and soothed my head, speaking softly. “Remember, you are not being replaced.”
“Okay, Cassidy,” the child called. “This is Sebastian!” she gleamed as she presented the young orange tabby kitten. She sat him down, and Mother released me.
Sebastian, approached me cautiously, and once again, sniffed my nose.
“You’re from the other day, right?” He asked with a soft mew.
I fluffed my tail, and stood to full height. Sebastian stepped back, flattening his ears a little.
“Woah! I didn’t sign up for this!” He chirped, panic in his eyes. “What happened to your leg?”
I looked down. “Oh that? I forgot about it. I chewed it off, or tried to. The doctors removed my left front leg about two years ago? Why? Does it bother you?”
Sebastian’s eyes widened with what I could only imagine was terror.
“Oh PLEASE TAKE ME BACK TO THE SHELTER!” he howled, “I don’t want to lose a leg!”
Missy approached, and swished her tail at the kitten.
“Relax,” she hissed. “Cassidy is a little obnoxious at times, but overall a rather amicable fellow.”
The orange tabby relaxed a little. He stood, and began to sniff the room a bit, curious about his new surroundings.
“What happened to your leg then?” Sebastian asked.
“It was paralyzed at birth,” I said, “My brother- littermate- whatever you want to call him, he had a paralyzed leg too. Runs in the family, I’m told. Why don’t you tell us about yourself?”
Sebastian rubbed his head against the table.
“Spent most of my life in a shelter. There were forty of us to a room. The girls were separated from the boys by a fence. It was never quiet there. We tried not to fight, that resulted in you leaving the room forever, and not with a family of humans. Here, it’s quiet. I kind of miss the noise, but I don’t want to go back. It’s soft here, and there are interesting smells. The child is kind. I don’t know what to think of the adults.” He rubbed his head against the sofa, then he approached me.
“To be honest, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t be afraid,” I said. “We all started out homeless too. My family came from downtown Los Angeles, and Missy came from a barn somewhere in Colorado.”
“You take that back!” Missy hissed. “I left my home, because there was nothing there for me. Mother and Father took me in. They’re good humans, you’ll see. Cassidy is obnoxious, but he’s a good ally. You’ll be fine here.”
Unable to resist, I reached out and tagged his right flank.
“Tag, you’re it!” I said, before I galloped around the room.
Missy hopped up onto the sofa to settle in for yet another nap. Sebastian perked up, and decided to give chase.
“They like each other!” the child squealed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I think I saw Mother smile for the first time since Old Montgomery died. Her teeth were a little jagged and crooked, but the smile was genuine.
“I expect you to be good friends when I go into surgery in a couple of weeks,” she said to me.
I felt a paw tag my left flank. I looked up to see Sebastian smile before galloping off to explore.
“Guess I’m it now,” I thought, before running after my new little brother.
Author Notes: Animals are very empathic creatures. Like humans, they grieve when a loved one dies. They are also aware when there is stress at the home.
Missy, Cassidy, and Montgomery have been featured in a couple of short stories under the 'cats' tag.
This story is dedicated to Oliver, who died in August.
Thank you for reading.
Mother, had stopped smiling all together. Old Montgomery was her trusted companion, and had been so for fifteen years. In between naps, Missy and I tried day in and day out to keep her company. She didn’t seem to notice our efforts though. A great depression had seemed to set in her very bones. She napped like Old Montgomery did before his death. Perhaps she too, was dying.
I worried for her. I took to bathing her, and straightening her hair. Still, she would not smile.
“It hurts to smile,” she cried once to Father. I hid myself when she wailed, which was daily now. It pained me to see her so sad. Father always patted her back gently as Mother cried. Then he would pick up the pieces when she slept. Father took up the shoulder of the household management, since Mother had grown unable to. Even he seemed to slump as the days wore on.
Is this what mourning was like? Truthfully, I was saddened by Old Montgomery’s death. He was like a grandfather to me, always watching me when I needed him. Yet, I had never mourned like this. Not even when my birth mother died. Then, I just tried to escape the pain and heartbreak. That is how I met Old Montgomery, Mother, Father, Missy, even the child. When they took me in, I sought refuge from the past. Orphaned, I knew I had a family here the day Mother took me in. This gave me hope, which allowed me to thrive.
The child that lived with us pleaded with Mother and Father to please adopt another so that she would not be so lonely. I began to wonder if this is what we needed to heal our grieving souls. Another to join the ranks of our household might lift spirits and help our hearts to thrive again.
Finally, something happened. It was the second Saturday in November. Father was irate. He threw up his hands and said sadly, “I can’t take this anymore. With all of the current events going on, it’s time we did something for us.” Mother and the child nodded, then they left the house.
Missy resumed her nap. I tried to engage her, but she ignored my pleas. “They’ll be back, Cassidy. They probably went for some retail therapy. It’s nearly Mother’s birthday, after all.” She sighed, and closed her eyes, discussion over.
Somehow, I wasn’t buying it. They had left discussing Old Montgomery, so something seemed different today.
“I understand, but Montgomery has only been gone four months. I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” I heard Mother say. “Then there’s my impending surgery. Will you be okay with another to care for?”
As it turned out, I was right. Mother, Father, and the young child returned with a box. Quickly, they went into another room, and closed the door. At some point, Mother emerged, and approached Missy and I separately. Something was off about how she smelled. Perhaps she had visited a farm. I smelled many others on her. Mother’s hair was disheveled, and her pants seemed to be riddled with new holes.
“Please be patient and kind to our new guest,” Mother said, “and know that I still love you.”
“What an odd thing to say,” I whispered to Missy.
“Oh?” Missy perked up. “That’s right! You are the youngest! Time for your initiation, I suppose.”
Missy stood, swished from side to side, and slowly walked toward the closed door. I followed closely, suddenly nervous. I could definitely smell something different. Was it a cat? Dog? Rabbit? The smells were a mixture, and they overwhelmed me. I felt nauseated.
Suddenly, the door opened. I had to see. I burst into the room, crossing to the back door.
“What’s this? What’s happening?” I chirped.
“Cassidy! No!” the child called to me. “Don’t you hurt Sebastian!”
“Ze-bas-ti-ahn?” I shook my head. Did I hear correctly?
Then I saw him. He was hiding under the child’s bed. Large golden eyes stared at me. They were full of terror. He inched closer to me, and I - well- I was curious. I approached the bed carefully.
“Who are you?” I asked, my eyes narrowed on the golden-eyed child. Yes, he was definitely young, with short orange and white fur, a long nose, and a crooked tail.
“I am afraid. Who are you? What is this place? Am I safe here? It’s so quiet and noisy at the same time!” The young thing crawled toward the edge of the bed, and sniffed my nose.
“Am I safe here?” he repeated.
“Sure,” I said, and turned away. Just then, I was whisked away by Father who said, “You’ll get your time with him soon enough. For now, you need stay outside this room.”
I was left in the hall, the door closed behind Father as quickly as it opened.
I felt betrayed. I was never banished from anything. I had become Mother’s shadow in Old Montgomery’s absence, yet she sat in the room coaxing this stranger out from under the bed. Me- locked out. What was I then?
Replaced, obviously. I retired to a bedroom, where Missy was standing.
“Met the new guy, did you?” She said with another swish.
“I guess? He’s a little thing. Golden eyes, short orange and white fur,” I said.
“Wait! Missy, am I being replaced? The child seems so happy, and she looked upon me unfavorably. What is even happening?”
Missy almost laughed. She stood up, came over to me, and bopped me on the head with her paw. I was beginning to feel angry as these unanswered questions loomed, and Missy’s quixotic behavior made me want to scratch the drapes.
“Relax! They’ve adopted a kitten! I can smell it. You’re not being replaced. I’m sure the child still loves you, but this kitten is new and exciting to her. I imagine we’ll get to know him soon enough. Besides, weren’t you just saying the other day how we needed another in our family? Or did you forget that?”
I relaxed a little. Still, I was uncertain. I retired to my place, and napped. Many a problem could be solved with a simple nap. While I couldn’t help but feel that this was betrayal, even I had to admit that Missy was right. I had wanted a kitten to join us for weeks. Caring for humans is hard work, and Missy was now nearly 14. She was too old and far too grumpy to play with two year old me. Somehow, the child’s requests had made everyone desire a new guest.
A couple of days later, we were formally introduced. Mother took me, and soothed my head, speaking softly. “Remember, you are not being replaced.”
“Okay, Cassidy,” the child called. “This is Sebastian!” she gleamed as she presented the young orange tabby kitten. She sat him down, and Mother released me.
Sebastian, approached me cautiously, and once again, sniffed my nose.
“You’re from the other day, right?” He asked with a soft mew.
I fluffed my tail, and stood to full height. Sebastian stepped back, flattening his ears a little.
“Woah! I didn’t sign up for this!” He chirped, panic in his eyes. “What happened to your leg?”
I looked down. “Oh that? I forgot about it. I chewed it off, or tried to. The doctors removed my left front leg about two years ago? Why? Does it bother you?”
Sebastian’s eyes widened with what I could only imagine was terror.
“Oh PLEASE TAKE ME BACK TO THE SHELTER!” he howled, “I don’t want to lose a leg!”
Missy approached, and swished her tail at the kitten.
“Relax,” she hissed. “Cassidy is a little obnoxious at times, but overall a rather amicable fellow.”
The orange tabby relaxed a little. He stood, and began to sniff the room a bit, curious about his new surroundings.
“What happened to your leg then?” Sebastian asked.
“It was paralyzed at birth,” I said, “My brother- littermate- whatever you want to call him, he had a paralyzed leg too. Runs in the family, I’m told. Why don’t you tell us about yourself?”
Sebastian rubbed his head against the table.
“Spent most of my life in a shelter. There were forty of us to a room. The girls were separated from the boys by a fence. It was never quiet there. We tried not to fight, that resulted in you leaving the room forever, and not with a family of humans. Here, it’s quiet. I kind of miss the noise, but I don’t want to go back. It’s soft here, and there are interesting smells. The child is kind. I don’t know what to think of the adults.” He rubbed his head against the sofa, then he approached me.
“To be honest, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t be afraid,” I said. “We all started out homeless too. My family came from downtown Los Angeles, and Missy came from a barn somewhere in Colorado.”
“You take that back!” Missy hissed. “I left my home, because there was nothing there for me. Mother and Father took me in. They’re good humans, you’ll see. Cassidy is obnoxious, but he’s a good ally. You’ll be fine here.”
Unable to resist, I reached out and tagged his right flank.
“Tag, you’re it!” I said, before I galloped around the room.
Missy hopped up onto the sofa to settle in for yet another nap. Sebastian perked up, and decided to give chase.
“They like each other!” the child squealed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I think I saw Mother smile for the first time since Old Montgomery died. Her teeth were a little jagged and crooked, but the smile was genuine.
“I expect you to be good friends when I go into surgery in a couple of weeks,” she said to me.
I felt a paw tag my left flank. I looked up to see Sebastian smile before galloping off to explore.
“Guess I’m it now,” I thought, before running after my new little brother.
Author Notes: Animals are very empathic creatures. Like humans, they grieve when a loved one dies. They are also aware when there is stress at the home.
Missy, Cassidy, and Montgomery have been featured in a couple of short stories under the 'cats' tag.
This story is dedicated to Oliver, who died in August.
Thank you for reading.