There were eight of them,
huddled together,
hiding from the elements in the corner of the basement
of the old abandoned house,
where they had been living,
if you could call it that,
for the last several weeks,
some of them maybe for months.

One day the wreckers came,
and without a thought chased them out,
not caring where they went,
or what became of them.
No one, it seemed, was concerned at all
about the eight lost souls from the basement.

Except one kind person
who decided to get involved,
and whether a worker,
or just someone passing by,
this person was as close to an angel
as these eight would ever know.

This angel gathered them all up
and took them to safety,
knowing only that they were alone, in danger,
and in need of help.

Eight forlorn and bedraggled cats,
once beautiful family pets,
that no one wanted any more,
left to fend for themselves in a heartless and cold city,
braving the elements,
barely living as well as they could,
...but for some the angel was too late.

The people at the shelter took them all in,
worked their magic as much as they were able,
but of the eight only three survived,
the others succumbing to problems
resulting from the way they had been existing.

The shelter found homes for two of the survivors,
but one old boy, with a fang missing,
was not that easy to place,
probably because of his age.
He was somewhere between five and seven years old,
and most folks didn't want a cat that old.

He stayed at the shelter for months,
earning the love and devotion and attention of the workers,
and although his home was a cage, at least it was out of the weather.
But if he wasn't adopted soon,
what would happen to him?
Almost as a last resort, the shelter placed him in a pet shop,
in a section for cats and kittens that were available for adoption,
and he was there for a little while,-
thankfully only a short while.

It was there that I saw him and fell in love with his face,
the graceful way he sat there staring at me,
as if saying that he had been waiting for me,
and that he was ready to go home now.
I have never been stopped dead in my tracks by a cat before,
but this day I stopped as if I had hit a wall.
He was that beautiful.

We were shopping for cat food for our other "owners,"
(as humans don't own cats,- humans are owned by cats).
As usual, I wandered over to see the cats and kittens in the adoption area.
As I walked up the aisle to where they were,
all I saw was this beautiful orange tabby,
with his eyes, his face, his bearing... and I fell in love.
Thankfully, my wife allowed me this precious bit of happiness,
and we arranged to bring him home with us the next day.

We named him Autumn, as it was in the autumn that we found him,
and even if he had been ten or twelve years old,
we would still have brought him home with us.
His fur is shiny now, the coarse feeling gone,
his eyes bright, his voice good,
and his purr like a small motorboat engine...
he has worked his way into the lives of our other cats,
and he has very easily worked his way into our hearts.

He had paid his dues, his life had been rough,
but now there were no more basements or cages,
no more uncertainty,
no more feelings of not belonging;
he now has the run of the house,
warmth, food, love... he is safe,
and we are both blessed.

------- Author's Notes -------

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