“What are you looking at, Imogen?”
Dr Bellen came up behind his personal assistant, who was sitting at one of the administrative building’s wide windows. Outside, the sun was bright over Idylland, and made the green grass and the blue sky above it vivid. Imogen’s eyes, however, were not on the beauty of nature, but the beauty of something else - or at least what most would have thought were beauties.
“Those kittens…” Imo muttered.
“The Tempos?” The human smiled as he watched the youngsters gambol on the sun-warmed grass. “They have certainly made a difference to the sanitarium, haven’t they?”
“Yes,” agreed Imogen, though not quite in an agreeable tone. ”Why did the sanitarium have to put in a nursery?” she asked, annoyed.
“The sanitarium exists to help all cats, of all ages,” the doctor reminded Imogen. “Rhapsody needed a safe place to give birth, and to raise her children. Kittens are always vulnerable, but particularly so right after birth. And there may have been complications in the birth itself, dangers to Rhapsody and her infants.”
Imo watched as one of the Tempos threw his brother in a somersault, while another pair were trying to bite each other’s face. The adult cat almost hissed.
“They do all right on the outside, don’t they?” she asked, grumpily.
“Only about twenty to twenty-five per cent of kittens born to an outside mother survive past the age of six months…” Dr Bellen told her.
Imogen was startled.
“That few?” She continued to watch the kittens’ antics.
“Yes, and of course those who survive often are malnourished or under-nourished, and face continuing dangers from parasites, diseases, predators, the weather… It’s very harsh for an outsider-cat, and harshest for her kittens.”
The pair were joined by Moxy, the sanitarium’s Director of Resident Relations.
“Whatcha watchin’?” he demanded cheerfully. “Oh! The Tempos!” He leaned his big fat head closer to Imogen’s gracefully proportioned countenance. “Aren’t they fun, Imogen? There’s something fascinating about watching kittens at play, don’t you think, Doctor?”
“Indeed, Moxy.”
The kittens rolled and jumped closer to the window. Suddenly, one of them saw Moxy through the clear glass.
“Uncle Mixer! Uncle Mixer!”
The Tempos began bouncing up and down, then rushed to the nearest door. They burst into the building like a horde of lemmings rushing toward a cliff - except that they were rushing toward Moxy. Even he seemed alarmed by the onslaught, as they pushed against him and rubbed their fur against his. But he started purring, and the little ones - not so little these days - did, as well.
Imogen watched the scene with some disapproval.
“You wouldn’t like to play with them, Imogen?” the doctor asked, with some amusement.
“I would not. Good Heavens, look at that: rolling about, boxing, nipping, grabbing… Moxy is trying to groom them and they won’t even hold still.” Imogen sighed, still frowning. “I suppose it’s fine for some cats. Moxy, for instance…”
There was a disturbance in the bustle of activity around Moxy, as the kittens seemed distracted by something. Imogen turned and saw Brazil walking slowly down the corridor.
“Uncle Shimmer! Uncle Shimmer!”
Two of the Tempos detached themselves from the melee around the overwhelmed Director of Resident Relations, and galloped toward Brazil. The latter hissed but no regard was taken of it by the youngsters, who apparently knew better. They pushed against the big orange cat, and their purrs filled the air.
“And evidently Brazil, too…” added Imogen, belatedly.
Dr Bellen smiled, saying, “This is good to see, Imogen.”
“I thought the sanitarium was trying to reduce the cat over-population…” Dr Bellen’s personal assistant was confused.
“We want that, of course, and if Rhapsody had come to us without kittens, it would have been better if she wouldn’t have any at all. But they were already on their way. Since that was the case, we welcomed them and made sure they had everything they needed for a long and healthy life, after they leave us, and to make sure they have happy and loving homes. A bad start could have the worst effects later on.”
“Renn once told me that he was born in the wild, he and his brothers, and they would have died out there, if they hadn’t been rescued,” said Imogen, her face thoughtful.
“Renn?” Dr Bellen smiled at remembering his big boy. “Yes, indeed. He was always grateful for his rescue, and for coming to live at the sanitarium.”
“And maybe Indigo’s problems were because she wasn’t treated decently as a kitten; maybe a bit more trust and human kindness…”
“It’s certainly possible.” The doctor regarded the cat suspiciously. “Do you miss Indie, Imogen?”
“Certainly not! A grumpy old thing!” Then Imo’s expression softened. “Still, one doesn’t want anybody to leave for Samarra before they should…”
The Tempos, with their short attention spans, were already looking for new entertainment, and they spied Imogen, speaking to Dr Bellen off to the side.
“You’re becoming rather a softy, Imogen,” the human remarked.
The kittens surged away from their uncles, toward the black cat.
“Auntie Silky! Auntie Silky!” the youngsters cried with delight. Imogen snapped out a low growl that stopped the kittens in their assault.
“Sorry, Miss Imo.”
“Sorry, Miss Imo.”
“Sorry, Miss Imo.”
“Sorry, Miss Imo.”
As the babies retreated toward more assured welcomes from their uncles, Dr Bellen laughed.
“Softy is a relative term, of course,” he stated.
“One doesn’t want anybody to leave for Samarra before they should,” Imogen repeated mutteringly, “but leaving the sanitarium might be good for everyone…”
“Come on, Imogen. Let’s leave the boys to handle the kittens. There’s some paperwork I need to do.”
“I’ll lie on the papers for you, Doctor,” offered the black cat, as she trotted away beside the human.
“That’s what an assistant is for, my girl…”
