Yuletide Changes at the Sanitarium

The lobby of the new residency was crowded. Lord Catsbeck had come not only officially to open the latest addition to the Cosy Apartment Feline Sanitarium, but to rename the facility: thanks to the recent construction, it was larger, able to accommodate more cats and staff, and would now be the Cosy Cabin Feline Sanitarium. This was a significant day for all concerned - aside from it being the day before Christmas.

Lord Catsbeck was well-liked and, being the chairman of the Friends of the Sanitarium Society, was important. Nonetheless, he kept his speech short. The ribbon-cutting was completed, hands and paws were shaken, and the assemblage, hitherto seated patiently, stood and mingled, enjoying the delicious snacks and drinks provided by the kitchen.

“A fine new building, Doctor,” Catsbeck said, looking around at the spacious, but efficient lobby. He had of course toured the residency earlier. Indeed, he was no figurehead; he was part of the planning of the additions from the start. “As always, official openings come after a facility is already in use, and I noted you had some new cats already.”

“Yes, m’lord,” answered Dr Bellen, sipping some of the punch he had taken from a huge bowl on the central table. “There were some situations we felt we couldn’t ignore—”

Catsbeck held up a chubby hand and, smiling, responded, “You needn’t explain, Doctor. I know how it is. There is always a need. New rooms, new cats, eh?”

Dr Bellen felt a cat rub up against him and looked down. His assistant, Imogen, was trying to look nonchalant while requesting his attention.

“Excuse me, m’lord.”

Catsbeck nodded graciously and was soon conversing with the treasurer, who felt he could take a few minutes away from his books and numbers for the occasion. Dr Bellen drew Imogen away from all the others.

“What is it, Imo? It’s not a fire, is it?”

“Fire?” Imogen looked startled. She peered worriedly about.

“Just kidding, Imogen. What can I help you with?”

“It’s the new cats, Doctor. One is a fathead who avoids others, one dislikes everyone, one causes a great ruckus, and the last isn’t doing anything at all.”

Dr Bellen smiled. Imogen had been complaining of the newcomers for a while now.

“Let’s go and see.”

The new building was in the style of the old ones. Most cats did not like disruptions in their routines, changes in what already existed. Thus, any alterations made were kept as close to the original as possible. Dr Bellen rather felt the same way, though he wasn’t sure if it was due to his personality, or if the cats were influencing him.

The corridors were well-built and homey, and, while they smelled of new paint and tiles, the smells themselves were familiar. Cats liked that, too.

One wing of the residency was, as Lord Catsbeck had observed, already tenanted, and it was into this portion of the building that Dr Bellen and Imogen walked. The walls were decorated for Christmas. The human remembered to comment admiringly on this, as it had been under Imogen’s direction that the decorations had been placed.

“I hope they’re not a fire hazard,” said Imogen.

“I’m sure they’re not,” asserted Dr Bellen.

Most of the rooms’ doors were open; the residents were, for the most part, either gregarious or curious, and liked to see and hear what was happening among their fellow cats. The first open door at which Dr Bellen and Imogen stopped let into a pleasantly decorated chamber, with a big, dark-tabby cat curled up on the bed.

“Good day, Moxy,” greeted the human. “You weren’t at the opening ceremony, I noticed.”

“Oh, uh, no, no, I wasn’t,” rumbled Moxy, in his deep tones. “I, uh, I was a bit, uh…”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Moxy. The other cats would be happy to see you.”

“There were some loud noises, horrible sounds, like people and cats fighting, maybe killing each other…” Moxy looked apprehensively beyond his visitors into the corridor.

“That was applause,” Imogen told him, with a touch of exasperation.

“Oh, uh, it sounded aggressive…”

“Well, if there is a loud noise that you don’t like, you can certainly hide, Moxy,” Dr Bellen explained, “but then come out again. You’ll see that it not only doesn’t last, but doesn’t do any harm.”

“Really?” Moxy head - it really was rather fat - cocked on its side, as if considering his options.

“Why don’t you go down to the lobby? I think there are some treats still left…”

“Ooh.” Moxy liked treats. “Well, uh, maybe just a, er, peak…” He slipped off the bed with a thump and rumbled past Imogen, peering around the doorjamb. After a couple of glances back at Dr Bellen, he started walking down the corridor toward the lobby, mumbling about loud noises.

“He just needs patience,” Dr Bellen whispered to Imo.

“And no sudden movements…” added the cat.

Not far down the corridor was a closed door. Dr Bellen knocked gently upon its face.

“Go ‘way,” came the order from beyond the door.

“Indigo? It’s me, Dr Bellen.”

“Dr Bellen? Oh…” The human and the cat waiting outside the room heard a scrabbling noise; then the door swung open. “Hello, Doctor.” Indigo turned upon her fellow feline. “And Imogen…”

“Nice to see you, too, Indigo.” Imogen’s tone was low and growly.

“Stop it, you two. Indie, are you doing all right?”

“All right,” was the non-committal answer.

“Not better than that?” Dr Bellen started scritching under Indigo’s chin, and the masked face of the cat grew kittenish and she started purring. “You should come out and see what’s happening in the rest of the residence.”

“Oh, maybe…maybe later, Doctor…” Indie’s dark eyes regarded the human. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, it is,” the doctor agreed. “You can come out when you feel ready; though I’ve seen you going to the end of the corridor.”

“The end of the corridor is nice. I can see more…” conceded Indigo.

“Just think of what you’ll be able to see if you go even farther.”

“I’ll think about it. In the meantime, could I eat in here? I…I’ll leave the door open.”

“That will be fine, Indigo. Lunch will be served in about an hour.”

With a final grimace at Imogen, Indigo retreated back into the room, which was spartanly furnished; a utilitarian space, comfortable but not exciting.

“She doesn’t like me,” Imo hissed as she and Dr Bellen walked away.

“Give her time, Imogen. And give yourself time, too.”

Though, as the doctor had pointed out, it was not yet lunch-time, down another corridor to the left, there was a food-cart in front of one of the rooms. An attendant was bringing out from under a warming tray a dish of aromatic soft-food.

“You see, Doctor?” Imogen said, a little put out. “It’s not meal-time, but this one is already getting something. And she doesn’t want to come to the dining room, but has to have it delivered.”

The white-garbed attendant knocked on the closed door and, without waiting for a response, opened the door, deposited the dish of food within and withdrew once more. A moment later, she and the food-cart were heading back toward the kitchen, the cart clattering only slightly as it rolled on its rubber wheels.

“Sable is still growing used to the place, Imogen. It will take her a long time.”

“It’s already been a month. I was ready to meet people almost right away.”

“Sable has come from a different background. She was living rough up north in the hills of  Verdureland, on the edge of the forests. I think she is making excellent progress, considering her previous living conditions.”

“You do?” Imogen was surprised.

“Yes. You and most of the other cats who come here were used to living with people. Sable is not. She does come out of her room, you know.”

“Well, yes, I know. After the lights are turned off, and everyone is in bed. She walks the halls…”

“That’s how she is growing used to the Sanitarium, her new home.”

Imogen was silent for a minute. She thought she could hear somecat eating behind a close door.

“Well, what about the kid?” She and Dr Bellen started walking once more. The human smiled.

“You mean Valkyrie?”

“Yes, her. What sort of name is Valkyrie, anyway?” Imo was scornful.

“Norse, I think.”

“That’s not what I meant, Doctor.” The cat glanced sidelong at the man, not something cats do often, and usually only when they are trying to impart meaning to their words.

“I think it suits her. She is always on the go. She may as well be flying,” the man said.

“Oh, geez, here she comes…”

Sure enough, a blackish-orange blur came hurtling down an unseen corridor, turned a corner and nearly ran into Dr Bellen and Imogen. The blur disappeared in an instant, to be replaced by a long, lean kitten.

“Hewwo, Dr Blivven. Hewwo, Ippomip.”

“That’s Imogen,” corrected Imogen sternly, “as I think you know. I am Dr Bellen’s assistant.”

“Can I go whiteside?” Valkyrie twirled about as she spoke.

“Outside, you mean?” Imogen said dryly.

“Whiteside, whe’ th’ sno is white.” Valkyrie laughed, and swatted at the air, just because.

“All right. But put on a scarf and some mittens,” Dr Bellen said. “You’ll find a bin of them at the door.”

“Wheeee!” In a flash the blur returned, and Valkyrie vanished.

“She gets into all sorts of trouble, Doctor. She pulled the towels from the racks in the bathrooms; she knocked over the garbage bins; she pulled down the stockings hung up by the chimney in the sitting room; she—”

“I’ve seen you taking advantage of the new spaces we have, Imogen.” Now it was Dr Bellen’s turn to regard his assistant sidelong; “running about and sliding on the new linoleum.”

“Well…I…”

“Come here, Imo.”

Dr Bellen led the cat to one of the wide windows that looked out onto the grounds of the sanitarium. Those grounds were covered in deep snow. Since it was almost Christmas, snow was inevitable in Idylland, though it never snowed so much as to be a nuisance, never mind a danger. The pair could see the buildings decorated for the Yuletide.

“It’s almost Christmas. You know what that means?” the doctor asked.

“Of course,” replied the cat.

“Christmas is about birth - not just literal birth, but about the opportunities that come with birth. We are all offered something new and exciting at Christmas, the chance to start again, no matter where or what we’ve been.” Dr Bellen rubbed the top of Imogen’s head. The cat leaned into the good feeling. “Neville and Brazil had that. You had that. Do you remember? You were abandoned, then found a home at the Sanitarium, and now you’re my right hand. It wasn’t easy for you, despite how much you wanted to be friends early on. Indigo suffered even worse: being tossed outside, she didn’t have the comfort of the home she once knew. Moxy’s only human friend moved, leaving him alone. And Sable never has had a home. But each has the chance to start again.”

The human and the cat watched as Valkyrie soared into view, ploughing up the snow in great puffs and tufts, then jumping into the resultant piles. She had already lost one of her mittens. Dr Bellen smiled.

“It’s the same with people, Imo,” he stated.

“It is?” This surprised the cat.

“Yes. Many humans need a chance to start over, and many of them look to Christmas to give it to them. It’s up to those who already are living their opportunity to help them. That’s part of Christmas, too.”

“I’ll try my best, Doctor.” Imogen’s gaze turned from the doctor to the kitten outside. She scowled and shook her head. “It won’t be easy.”

Dr Bellen laughed, and responded, “It never is. But it’s easy to help than to ask for it.” He indicated the way to the lobby. “Now, why don’t we join Lord Catsbeck and the others? There is bound to be more hot tea and treats delivered from the kitchen by now. You can tell his lordship about the newcomers.”

The gathering in the lobby continued for another hour, after which everyone moved to the dining hall, where a festive luncheon was provided, lit by the coloured illumination of a big Christmas tree. Most of the staff and residents of the Sanitarium were there, with a few exceptions. Outside, in the dimming light of the short day, the snow began to fall, past the glowing windows of the buildings, and eventually covered the snowman built up and knocked down by an energetic kitten, and a lost mitten that would not be found until spring, long after another fun and warm Christmas had become a cherished memory.