A Cat Named Blue Bell

A short story by Judith Ayn

Cat food breath, a cold wet nose, and the whisper of a “meow” constitute the usual 5:30 a.m. wake-up call in the bedroom of the Martin residence. Thomasina “Tommie” Gunn is the leading culprit. Sleek with short black fur and yellow-green eyes, she is lean and loving. Immediately, Old Dog (OD) joins the group and offers a canine point of view with a soft “woo” and rapidly wagging puppy tail. They are irresistible, even when their owners are cranky and exhausted. 

David drags himself out from under the warm comforter and away from his sleeping wife. He mutters under his breath as he pulls on shorts and a T-shirt, assuring the creatures that breakfast will be ready forthwith. 

An hour later, his wife, Annie, calls his name twice from the driveway. The tone of her voice carries a request that he come immediately. Annie is sitting in the middle of the asphalt, a mass of gray fur in her lap, and she is crying. 

“What’s the matter? Did a cat get hit by a car?” David bends down to look at the animal. He sees battered ears, a closed eye, and blood trickling from the nose. The rasping is very loud as the injured cat struggles to breathe. 

“We have to get him to the vet’s now! He’s suffering, David.” 

Somehow, David manages to get the cat and his wife in the SUV, wrapping an old beach towel around the now-shivering feline. He drives over the speed limit on surface roads to the animal hospital a few blocks away. They are admitted immediately. 

Doctor Green removes her glasses — something she only does when a situation is serious. “This poor thing’s chances of surviving are 50-50. We’ll X-ray him and see what he’s got for internal injuries. Brace yourselves. I’ll be back soon.” 

Annie’s eyes are swollen from crying. David holds her close. Of everything he’s witnessed in life, her tears have the power to reduce him to the same. “It’ll be okay, honey. He looks like a fighter.” 

The vet finally emerges and informs them that the cat’s been hit by a car and has a broken back leg. He’ll need an operation and several days of care. Annie and David okay the treatment. 

Time drags on as they wait for surgery results. Annie runs a hand through her hair. “I think we should name him Blue Bell. He’s got a thin leather collar buried under all that fur, and there’s a bell on it.” 

David restrains himself from rolling his eyes. He figures the beast could be called Blue Ball, since it appears he only has one and was obviously never neutered. He’s not excited about adding Blue Whatever to the household, but he won’t deny Annie anything. They were never able to have children, and Annie suffered several miscarriages. The fur babies are their family.  

Tommie, OD, and now Blue Bell — the new Unholy Trinity. David wonders if there is any chance Blue Bell will be a late sleeper. 

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About the Author

Judith Ayn is a retired attorney residing in Southern California, owned and operated by two cats, Ziggy and Sammy. They serve as the role models for Fred and Ethel in her novella, Murder at the No-Kill Animal Shelter, the first book in her Cheater’s Lake, Washington, mystery series. The next two books are Dead Lawyers and Dead Merchandise, featuring the cats. Her website is JudithAyn.com.