Nathan Alan Willoughby was tired.
He was tired from a week of being a dog's chew toy. He was tired of his favorite catnip mouse being stuck under a dress with no one retrieving it in a timely manner. He was tired of having his naps interrupted by the hissing of the other cats in the Red Room. He was tired of the same view out the window of the Westwood Rescue for Good Cats.
Mostly, he was tired of having no one to stroke his fur and hold him. When was the last time he had purred?
It was time to get serious. It was time to formulate a plan to somehow be in a place other than where he was. Where he was was good. But he knew there was something more. If he longed for something better, surely it existed.
The key seemed to be in the Visitors. When the Visitors came, he needed to act interested in them. Nathan Alan Willoughby got to grooming. He licked even the hard to reach areas in an effort to clean up his fur and look good.
So far, it had not worked. In the spring month of April, with the trees beginning to flower, a dozen people had entered the Red Room and paid little attention to him. Nathan Alan Willoughby was confused. Didn't he look nice? Wasn't he behaving in a most becoming manner?
One day, a young woman visited. When she walked into the Red Room, Nathan Alan Willoughby immediately perked up. She was looking right at him. Perhaps it was the floppy hat that got his attention. Perhaps it was her flowing skirt. Most likely, though, it was the kindness in her eyes, which were red from crying.
He sat up immediately and locked eyes with her. The young woman's mouth gaped and she asked the volunteer something.
"That's Nathan Alan Willoughby. He's been here since last Fall. He's not very appealing, I'm afraid, what with his chubby belly and laziness. Maybe he's not very adoptable."
The young woman shook her head. "I like his chubby belly. I don't mind that he's laziness." She sat down on the bed. The other four cats in the room hopped up next to her, pushing Nathan Alan Willoughby aside.
He pushed back. He nosed her hand and pushed it gently with his head, coaxing her to pet him. She scratched his ears. His tail twitched. He began to purr.
She looked at the volunteer, "It seems everyone missed the best cat in here. Today is my lucky day. I'm taking Nathan Alan Willoughby home."
Nathan Alan Willoughby didn't understand the words that were being exchanged, but he did understand one thing. This woman had just met him and loved him just as he was.
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