Peculiar Black Cat

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Before I transferred to North Stratfield School, I had been attending a small Catholic school called Out Lady of the Assumption, or Assumption for short. Out of 22 children, I was the only one who would have lucked out like this…



It all happened on one particular autumn night. I had been lounging on the couch, eating a bowl of soup. Cartoon Network was on, blasting typical 2008 cartoons, such as Johnny Test, or Pokemon (I can’t recall which). I was watching TV just as I heard a call for help. It was a very peculiar call for help, I said to myself. I decided to leave it alone, as I was just hearing things. I heard it again. After this second call for help I decided it was best if I went to go see who was calling for help. It was then, that I arose from my comfy dark green couch, and proceed for the humongous sliding doors that led out onto our balcony on our second floor condo.


I placed my hand on the wooden handle and opened the door slowly. As I continued onto the balcony, my right foot had made contact with the wooden balcony with pale blue paint peeling away. A burst of frosty air collided with my face, giving me chills, and forcing me to squint as though I couldn’t see the board at school. Suddenly, the calls for help turned into meows. A meow from a kitten, I concluded.


I looked over the railing. It felt like I was staring into a black void of darkness. “It’s a cat, Daddy, Mommy! A cat!” I exclaimed while zipping back into the living room. My parents exchanged nervous glances, and explained to me that a cat had suddenly appeared and was walking around, meowing. I was about to burst from happiness. I didn’t believe that a cat might have a chance of entering our small family. I zoomed towards the bread box, and pulled out a piece of Wonder Bread. On my way out of the kitchen I also snatched a powerful LED flashlight, and headed out back to the balcony.


I made my way back outside fast. I shined the flashlight over by where the meowing had seemed to come from most. Nothing. I kept looking, and after about ten seconds, I see eyes gleaming, but nothing else. “It’s a black cat, Emma.” My dad informed me. A black cat? As in, the unlucky cats? I put that thought aside and ripped a piece of bread off and threw it down. The cat had seemed to like it, as it gulped it down. “Can we keep it?!” I said excitedly, jumping up and down, causing the old balcony to squeak. “Haha. We’ll see.” My dad concluded reluctantly.


When I was in fifth grade, I hadn’t had a cat since third grade, so I was excited at the thought that I could have another cat in my life.


Four days pass, and the cat still appears at our back doorstep, meowing, as though saying “Let me in…!” The thing is, the cat wouldn’t go home with any other family, or even eat the food of other people but us. My dad had called Animal Control, and they said that they wouldn’t take in animals unless they were injured. So our family agreed that we’d take in the cat, and keep it. We soon came to realize that the cat was, in fact, a girl.


Three years have passed since this fateful encounter, and I’m still united with my lovely cat, Shadow. So I guess it’s true; Friends really do appear in peculiar places.





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