The old man took a bag of catfood and went to the cold alley in the night. He had been doing this for years, ever since his wife passed away and left him alone. He found comfort in feeding the stray cats that lived in the dumpsters and the shadows. They were his only friends, the only ones who cared for him.
He opened the bag and poured some kibble on a cardboard box. He whistled softly and waited for the cats to come. He knew them all by name and by sight. There was Fluffy, a white Persian with a missing eye. There was Smokey, a gray tabby with a scarred ear. There was Ginger, a calico with a limp. And there was Blackie, a black cat with a white spot on his chest.
They came one by one, cautiously but eagerly. They rubbed against his legs and purred in gratitude. He stroked their fur and spoke to them gently. He felt a warmth in his heart that he rarely felt anymore.
He didn’t notice the two men who approached him from behind. They wore hoodies and masks and carried knives. They had been watching him for a while, waiting for the right moment to strike. They wanted his money, his watch, his coat, anything they could get.
They grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him to the ground. He dropped the bag of catfood and cried out in pain. The cats scattered in fear.
“Give us your wallet, old man!” one of them shouted.
“Please, leave me alone! I have nothing!” he pleaded.
“Shut up and hand it over!” the other one said.
They searched his pockets and found only a few coins and a picture of his wife. They threw them away in disgust.
“Is this all you have? You’re pathetic!” one of them said.
“Let’s teach him a lesson!” the other one said.
They raised their knives and prepared to stab him.
But before they could, they heard a loud hiss and felt a sharp pain in their legs. They looked down and saw Blackie, Fluffy, Smokey and Ginger biting and scratching them furiously. They had come back to defend their friend.
“Get off me, you filthy animals!” one of them yelled.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Let’s get out of here!” the other one said.
They ran away, bleeding and cursing. The old man got up slowly and thanked the cats for saving him. They licked his wounds and snuggled with him.
He smiled and hugged them. He realized that he had more than nothing. He had them.
