Tabby cats with wings rest in their nest after a rough day of hunting. James nurses a wing injury, Thelma has indigestion from a shrew, and they're haunted by memories of humans grabbing and shouting at them. But Harriet believes they've found a kind human who brought them food.
Chapters
The tabbies looked at one another. They did not say a word till morning came. At sunrise, Thelma peered cautiously out. The owl was gone. Until this evening, said Thelma. From then on, they had to hunt in the daytime and hide in their nest. But the owl thinks long. James was ill for days and could not hunt at all. When he recovered, he was very thin and could not fly much, for his left wing soon grew stiff and lame. He never complained. He sat for hours by the creek, his wings folded, fishing. The fish did not complain either. They never do. One night of early summer, the tabbies were all curled up in their home, rather tired and discouraged. A raccoon family was quarreling loudly in the next tree. Thelma had found nothing to eat all day but a shrew, which gave her indigestion. A coyote had chased Roger away from the woodrat he had been about to catch that afternoon. James's fishing had been unsuccessful. The owl kept flying past on silent wings, saying nothing. 2 young male raccoons in the next tree sat started a fight, cursing and shouting insults. The other raccoons all joined in, screeching and scratching and swearing. Sounds just like the old alley, James remarked.
Do you remember the shoe?
Harriet asked dreamily. She was looking quite plump, perhaps because she was so small. Her sisters and brothers had become thin and rather scruffy. Yes, James said. Some of them chased me once. Do you remember the hands? Roger asked.
Yes!
Thelma said.
Some of them picked me up once when I was just a kitten. What did they do? The hands?
Harriet asked.
They squeezed me. It hurt. And the hands person was shouting, Wings! Wings! It has wings! That's what it kept shouting in its silly voice. And squeezing me! What did you do? I bit it!
Thelma said with modest pride.
I bit it and it dropped me and I ran back to Mother under the dumpster. I didn't know how to fly yet.
I saw one today, said Harriet.
What? A hand? A shoe?
Shoes, said Thelma. A human being, said James.
A human being?
Yes, said Harriet.
It saw me too.
Did it chase you?
Did it kick you? Did it throw things at you? No. It just stood and watched me flying. And its eyes got round just like ours. Mother always said, Thelma remarked thoughtfully, that if you found the right kind of hands, you'd never have to hunt again. But if you found the wrong kind, It would be worse than dogs, she said.
I think this is the— I think this is the right kind, said Harriet.
What makes you think so?
Roger asked, sounding like their mother. Because it ran off and came back with a plate full of dinner, Harriet said.
And it put the dinner down on that big stump at the edge of the field where we scared the cows that day, you know. And then it went off quite a way and sat down and just watched me. So I flew over and ate the dinner. It was an interesting dinner, like what we had to get in the alley, but fresher. And, said Harriet, sounding like their mother, I'm gonna go back there tomorrow and see what's on the stump. You better be careful, Harriet Tabby, said Thelma, sounding even more like their mother.
