Short Story: Tigger, a Kitten, and a Circus
AS Isabelle welcomed her daughter Amy home in the entrance hall one evening, she noticed that Amy was carrying a basket very carefully.
“Welcome home, dear. I’d heard you went straight to Duchess Camilla’s after school to help treat a kitten… You’re looking after it, then?”
“Yes. The poor thing needs constant surveillance.”
A kitten was wrapped up in a towel in the basket, sound asleep.
Isabelle wondered if perhaps it had gotten caught in the morning rain, because although its light-gray fur was dry, it was quite tangled and unkempt. Its eyes were sealed shut from an excess of eye discharge, and its ears seemed unusually pronounced against its thin body. On top of all that, one of its legs was wrapped in bandages.
Isabelle looked at the poor thing commiseratively. It looked so different from how a kitten ought to look.
“It’s so small… Is it a newborn?” asked Isabelle.
“No, she’s probably around two months old.”
“At that size?”
Isabelle was predictably shocked when Amy conveyed the veterinarian’s diagnosis that the kitten’s growth had been stunted due to malnutrition. She probably seemed even smaller to them because they were so used to seeing the exceptionally large Tigger.
One of Duchess Camilla’s regular merchants had found the kitten cowering on the side of the road with a wound on her back leg. She’d immediately been taken to the duchess, and a veterinarian had been called for at once, but he concluded that the kitten’s exhaustion was worse than her injury.
That was why they called Amy in for her healing magic.
“I could only do a little bit of healing, though,” Amy muttered guiltily, looking at the kitten in the basket.
Healing magic only magnified the patient’s own powers of recovery. If a very frail patient were suddenly filled with massive amounts of magic, there was actually a possibility they could die from the strain on their body, so Amy could only apply the smallest amount of healing magic to the incredibly tiny, weak kitten.
After some medical treatment and healing magic, the kitten had improved a little bit, but she still couldn’t open her eyes or drink any milk. Amy and the veterinarian had decided that it would be best if Amy kept an eye on her for a little while and frequently gave her small doses of healing magic.
“Duchess Camilla will be gone for the next two weeks, so I thought I could keep an eye on her here during that time.”
“Of course! That won’t be a problem at all.”
“Oh, Tigger! I’m home! This is Misty.”
Tigger had heard her come home and rushed right over. Amy petted him, smiling at both cats.
“She’s just a baby. She’ll be living with us while she gets better. Will you be nice to her?”
Amy tilted the basket toward him slightly in an effort to make introductions. Tigger brought his face closer, perplexed…and then suddenly lost interest and started rubbing against Amy as usual.
“I should have expected that,” Amy said, laughing.
It wasn’t uncommon for there to be animosity between older cats and new cats. Amy had been prepared to keep them completely separated, depending on Tigger’s reaction, but it seemed like they would get along okay.
He had reacted the same way when Rosalind had brought Portia over. Because Tigger had lived together with so many other cats when he lived at the Duchess Camilla’s cat room, he was very tolerant of other cats.
“You’re such a nice kitty, Tigger. I love you so much!”
After handing Isabelle the basket with the sleeping Misty, Amy gave Tigger a thorough petting with both hands. He purred back at her happily.