Connie woke up with a start. She rolled over and glanced at the alarm. 7:05 AM. She opened the window gently, letting a gust of cold air rush in. She shivered, what was that incessant noise? It was a high pitched mewing sound, probably from a stray animal. The noise stopped, maybe she was imagining it? After all, she did have a few glasses of wine last night...

Just 30 seconds later, it started again. That's it, she thought, I'm going to find out what that is before it drives me insane. So she put a scarf around her neck to keep her warm, walked down the stairs and opened the door.

To her surprise, on the doorstep there was a small black cat, curled up in a ball, mewing plaintively. Its fur was as dark as the night sky, but it was in a terrible condition, matted and dirty.

The cat looked up at Connie when it noticed the door had opened. Connie had never had any time for animals in the past, but her daughter Grace adored them, especially cats.

You could say it was almost lucky Grace was in New York with her father, as Connie was certain Grace would have wanted to take the cat in and look after it, but she was simply too busy to care for it.

She did feel a little bit guilty about leaving the cat out in the cold, but she just had to keep reminding herself that she had no time to look after an animal, it would get in the way of everything.

***2 hours later***

Connie was beginning to regret leaving the cat earlier. It must have gone away when she closed the door because the only thing she could hear now was the cheerful chirping of a few birds sitting in the tree outside her house.

It felt as if the cat had read her mind, all of a sudden the mewing began again. Connie couldn't possibly ignore it a second time. Once again she opened the door, this time kneeling down to touch the cat. She stroked it, her fingers catching on all the knots and tangles hidden in its fur.

The cat rolled on its side and licked Connie's hand. Usually that would have been something Connie wouldn't have liked, but for some reason this time she didn't mind. She felt there was something special about it, and at this point she really wanted to keep it. However, Connie knew she had to be responsible and check to see if it already had an owner. She would be surprised if it did as it was so filthy. She was pleased when she saw no collar, no contact details, nothing.

"I guess you'll have to stay with me then," Connie told the cat.

***2 years later***

Connie was curled up on the sofa after a long day at work with the cat (which she had renamed Gracie, after her daughter). There wasn't a day that went by that she didn't think of Grace, but having some company in an otherwise empty house made her feel better. She knew she made the right decision.