Heart Magic

Heart Magic

Pedestrians shuffled past me as office workers returned to their jobs. I continued playing my guitar, thanking those who stopped to listen and toss a bill or two into the open guitar case. I watched a bedraggled old black cat slink to the guitar case and curl up for a nap.

“Old girl, I bet you need water and maybe a bit of my sandwich,” I quietly told her. Pouring water into a small paper cup and pulling a few bits of shredded chicken from my sandwich, I waited to see if she would eat. The look of intensity in her yellow eyes made me feel she was judging my worth.
“How long have you been on the run?” She blinked as her rough tongue removed the morsels from my fingertips.

Picking up my guitar, I played a soothing tune. I was mesmerized by the feline purring and making herself feel at home in the guitar case. I answered some listeners’ comments about the cat.

“How did you train the cat to stay in the guitar case?”

“Sorry, she looks like she’s at her last stop.”

At the end of my two-hour musical interlude for the public, the cat slowly rose to her feet, stretching. After putting my guitar away, I gave her the rest of my sandwich and walked away.

“Hey, fella! You’re walking too fast. The cat is falling behind!” Someone yelled.

Indeed, the black cat was following me.

“Sweetie, I don’t have food left in my backpack.”

All the sounds of traffic and birds chirping in the trees stopped.
Emptying my backpack, I knelt before her, holding the bag open. She stepped into it, purring and curled up.

That was when I realized she had picked me to see to her comfort for the remainder of her days.

I could feel the cat purring within the backpack. When I moved into the apartment, there was a no pets allowed sign on the front of the building. Maybe she would be quiet if I left plenty of food for her.

Unlocking my apartment door, I felt the cat move within the backpack.
“Hi, Jason! How did your lunchtime serenade go?” My neighbor, Anna, asked.

“Oh, Hi Anna! It went well, I think. See you later.”
Placing the backpack on the bed, I gently whispered, “Kat, I’ll let you out; please don’t slap my face.”

Unzipping the bag, I could only see the cat’s immense yellow eyes glowing.
How do I keep you quiet when I go to work? I’ll ask my boss, Dr. Avery, what I should do.

***
“Hi, Jason! How was your noon music gig?” Nita asked as I walked through the front door.

“Good. An old black cat took possession of my guitar case to nap in.” I replied.

“You know the old tale that black cats are witches' minions?” Nita asked.

“I’ve heard, but really, this is 2023. This black cat looks pretty old. Would Dr. Avery have time to see Kat this afternoon?”

“Dr. Avery should be done with his last patient. Check the post-op room.”

“Hi, Dr. Avery. I have a couple of questions. Is now a good time?” I asked.

“Sure, Jason, what’s the matter?” Dr. Avery replied.

“I adopted an old black cat at my noon music gig. Would you have time to look at her this afternoon?” I asked.

Dr. Avery looked over the top of his glasses at me.

“The cat napped in my guitar case for two hours while I played. She followed me home,” I replied.

“How old is she?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe ten years. Nita suggested I bring her to you for a quick examination if you have time.” I replied.

Checking the remaining appointments, Dr. Avery said, “Retrieve the cat now. I’ll work her into my schedule today.”

“Thank you, Dr. Avery.”

With the backpack open, I held it close to the floor for Kat to get in it. To my surprise, she complied.

I stood beside the exam table as Dr. Avery listened to the cat’s heart and abdomen and drew a blood sample.

“Jason, my estimate is ten years old. She has all her teeth, her gums look good, and her muscles are firm. She was neutered. She’s not an old cat; middle-aged is more like it.

“So, she’s healthy?”

“Yes, you are now this cat’s pride and joy.”

THE END