5c1567efd9323ad9db7ca4ad6851d075

“How are we going to get him there, though? Won’t it hurt him if we pick him up?” Helena crouched down by the car, peering at the little cat. One of his back legs was really swollen and seemed to be at a funny angle, and she could hardly see him breathing at all. But his eyes were open now, just a tiny slit of gold. He was looking at them.

“Yes,” Lucy admitted. “And he might not want us to touch him, either. But we need to get him there quickly. He’s in shock, and I’ve got a feeling he’s been here for ages – he’s so cold.” She pulled off her big scarf and gently wrapped it round the cat, scooping him up and trying to support the injured leg as well as she could.

[Ęŕđňčíęŕ: _4.jpg]

Helena watched, biting her lip. She’d seen cats at the surgery hissing and scratching at Lucy and the vets because they were frightened or hurting. She hoped this cat wasn’t going to fight – he didn’t look as though he had the strength.

Maybe he was just too weak, or maybe he understood that Lucy and Helena were trying to help, but the cat lay still in Lucy’s arms as they hurried down the street. Helena was jogging beside Lucy, carrying her bag and looking up at the cat. His head was drooping over Lucy’s arm, and from time to time his mouth opened in a tiny, soundless mew.

“You might be hurting him,” Helena told Lucy worriedly.

“I know. But we’re nearly there. Look, I can see Molly’s car, she’s arrived already.”

Helena pushed open the surgery door and looked around. Molly must be out the back somewhere, or upstairs making a coffee.

“Helena, you hold him.” Lucy carefully passed over the scarf-wrapped bundle. “Take him into the back room. I’ll go and find Molly.”

Helena stood there helplessly. The cat hardly weighed anything at all, and he wasn’t moving. She had an awful feeling he wasn’t going to survive – he was too weak. “Just hold on,” she whispered, as she carried him through to the room where Molly and Pete operated. She wondered if she ought to put him down on the table, but she didn’t want to. The table was cold and hard, and she wanted the cat to know that somebody loved him. “Just hold on,please… We’re going to make you better.”

The golden cat opened his eyes and gazed up at her. He didn’t understand what was going on. Everything seemed to hurt and he was frightened. He still wasn’t sure what had happened – there had been bright lights suddenly flashing out of the darkness and so much noise. He didn’t remember anything after that, until he had woken up at the side of the road and his legs wouldn’t work properly.

He had wanted so much to go home, to curl up in his basket, and hide away until he felt better. But he was so dizzy and sick, he wasn’t really sure where home was. And it hurt to move. He couldn’t walk, one of his back legs wasn’t working at all and the other one ached. He could only do a strange sort of hop, dragging his bad leg behind him. He’d managed to get a little way up the road, but then he’d felt so cold and weary, he’d hidden under the parked car. Once he’d lain down, it just seemed too hard to get up again.

Now he could feel the warmth of the girl’s arms round him. He liked the softness of her voice, too. She sounded gentle, and he rubbed his head against her arm, just a little, to show her he was grateful. But it hurt too much to do anything more, and his eyes flickered closed again.

[Ęŕđňčíęŕ: _5.jpg]

“Lucy, he woke up a bit, but now I think he’s getting worse!” Helena said anxiously, as Lucy and Molly clattered down the stairs and into the operating room. “He’s gone really limp. Please say you can help him, Molly, he’s such a sweet cat. He hasn’t hissed or scratched or anything.”

Molly took the cat and laid him carefully on the table.“Definitely a broken leg,” she murmured. “But it’s the shock that’s really dangerous at the moment. Let’s get him on a drip. That’ll get some fluids back into him,” she explained, seeing Helena frown. “It’s a bit like you having one of those energy drinks after you’ve been running.”

“Oh.” Helena nodded, wishing the cat would open his eyes again. He looked so weak. He hadn’t even flinched when Molly had moved him.

“Once he’s warmed through we can examine him properly,” Molly explained. “I don’t want to fuss him with X-rays while he’s like this. But we can at least check if he’s got a microchip, so that if he has, we can ring his owner.”

Lucy passed her the microchip scanner and Molly held it above the cat’s neck – but it didn’t beep. It didn’t make any sound at all.

[Ęŕđňčíęŕ: _6.jpg]

“No chip,” Molly sighed. “Oh well. We can put a sign up in the surgery window, I suppose.”

“But what if his owners never find out where he is?” Helena asked, her voice shaking a little. Life seemed so hard for the poor cat – run over, and now maybe homeless as well.

“Once they realize he’s missing, I’m sure they’ll ring round the local vets,” Lucy told her comfortingly. But she glanced at Molly. “Are we going to be OK to operate?” she asked. “I mean, he is very skinny. If he’s a stray…”