The Purrfect Gift
By Blaklite
{-*-}
April brought two things to Ottawa this year: unusually warm weather and the bi-annual Meeting of the World between all the nations. As per usual, fewer nations tended to show up to the meetings whenever they were held in Canada. Most nations tried to cover up their absence by saying that they had been too busy or their boss had required them to stay, but Matthew knew it was because they could never remember where they were supposed to go. He probably would have been more upset about it, but he was enjoying the weather far too much to be bothered.
The usual speakers always showed up anyways. Never one to miss the chance to show off his newest harebrained scheme, America had taken center stage, effectively pushing England off to the side. The Brit probably would have missed the meeting had France, who was sitting right beside Matthew and making him feel like he was being mentally undressed, not brought him along. Germany sat attentively across the table, awaiting his turn to speak, while a sleepy looking Feliciano clung to his arm. South Italy had come to make sure his brother wasn't molested by that 'potato bastard' and Spain had tagged along with him. Prussia sat on Matthew's other side, probably thinking the same things Francis was. Russia, China, Japan, Poland, Switzerland, Cuba (who had only punched him once the whole day), Turkey, and Holland were there as well, along with a few other nations he knew mostly through trade. A good turn-out overall.
"And THAT'S my plan on how we can use hamsters to power homes!"
The nations that weren't already asleep simply shook their heads. America's ideas seemed to be getting more and more ridiculous every meeting, if that was possible.
"I dink ve shoult take a break here…" was all Germany could suggest in response to Alfred's "Ways We Can Stop the Energy Crisis" speech. No one could agree with him more.
As everyone filed out of the room, Canada couldn't help but notice a lone figure that had remained sitting. Upon closer inspection he recognized the figure to be Greece, but he wasn't sleeping as he often did through meetings. In fact, he seemed rather depressed, and he seemed to be writing something.
Walking up behind the moping nation and peeking over his shoulder, Matthew was greeted by a page filled with doodles of cats.
"Are these your cats, Greece?"
The brown-haired nation turned his head slowly, taking an extra moment to process Canada's existence and identity. "Yes, these are just a few of my cats," he responded slowly. Heracles generally spoke slowly, but Matthew thought he heard a trace of sadness in his tone.
"This one looks like one of my Prime Minister's new foster cats," Canada said, walking beside him and pointing out a small kitten in the corner that had shaded spots on its back. Whenever Stephen Harper and his wife fostered a new kitten, they always invited him over to meet the fluffy little bundle of joy.
"That's…I don't know what her name is," was his reply. By the way that he was looking longingly at the sketches, Canada guessed that he probably missed his feline friends a great deal. Nations were often unable to sneak their pets onto planes (Matthew managed only because of his inherent invisibility) and so Greece had had to leave his cats at home.
After a moment of brainstorming, Canada came up with the perfect way to cheer up the forlorn country.
Try as he might, Matthew couldn't keep the smile from his face. "Come with me."
Blinking at the northern nation's sudden change in attitude, Heracles got up and followed him out of the building. The sun was out, but it was still chilly enough to be wearing a jacket. Greece was reconsidering the jacket part as they began to walk uphill.
When they got to the top, Canada steered them through the gate and towards the building. Greece was confused: why was Canada taking him to his Parliament?
Matthew's smile grew even brighter when their destination popped into sight. Right in front of them, off to the side of the Centre Block, was the compound, and there, bathing in the sun, was the colony.
Greece nearly stopped in his tracks when he realised what those fuzzy shapes were.
"Heracles Karpusi, may I introduce you to the Cats of Parliament Hill."
Just beyond the wrought iron fence sat a few small shelters complete with verandas. And on the roofs of the verandas enjoying the April sun were six cats. One of the cats, a grey, looked up sleepily at him before lowering its head again to continue its catnap. Heracles couldn't help a small smile from appearing on his lips.
Lost in the memories of his cats, Greece hadn't noticed Canada leave and return with a human girl holding a set of keys. He was finally shaken out of his reverie by the smaller nation, his eyes falling on the open gate.
Leaving the keys with Matthew, the girl strode back to the building as the two countries walked into the compound. Several of the cats were watching them now with the hope of being fed early. Grabbing his wrist, Canada all but dragged him closer to the felines, the largest smile he had ever seen from the quiet nation plastered on his forgettable face.
"This one's Brownie," he exclaimed, petting behind the ears of a fluffy orange-and-white cat. "The brown-and-white one is Fluffy and the black-and-white one is Moo." The one named Moo yawned at the two nations. "This one is Spot, you can tell 'cause of the white dot on his chest. We have another black cat named Coal that should be around here somewhere. The calico is Bebe."
"And this one?" Greece asked, scratching the chin of the grey cat.
"That's Max; he loves everyone, especially if they have food."
Reaching into his coat pocket, Greece pulled out a small resealable tin. Opening it up, the smell of tuna immediately wafted through the air, attracting the strict attention of the cats. Taking the offered empty bowl from Matthew, Greece dumped the contents into the dish and set it down on the veranda roof. The cats were on it in nanoseconds, reminding Greece of how much his own cats loved fish.
Motion from the right caught his attention as a tabby jumped onto the roof to join its comrades in the feast.
"The new arrival is another one of the regulars, Ti-gris," Matthew explained. "It's good to see that most of them are here. But other strays come and go within the colony. Sometimes they're adopted, sometimes they move on to have their own adventures, and sometimes…" He trailed off, unwilling to say anything further. He didn't want to think of what had happened to the lost ones, or the ones that got sick. Memories of what happened to the White Mother attempted to resurface, but he pushed them back.
Looking back at Greece, Matthew could tell that he had been successful in lifting some of the man's depression. If the smile on his face was anything to go by.
Heracles, absorbed in his own world, was surprised when a set of keys interrupted his view. Confused, he grabbed the keys from Canada.
"If anyone asks, I'll just tell them you went back to your hotel. Just remember to lock the gate when you're done. I'll let a volunteer know you're still out here."
Stunned, it took a moment for Greece to fully process what had just happened.
"Thank you."
Canada sincerely smiled back at him from the open gateway before continuing on back towards the conference hall. As for Greece, he settled down on the boardwalk for a nice nap in the sun, with the Parliamentary Cats curled around him.
{-*-}
Dedicated to the men and women around the world who volunteer their time to help our furry friends out on the streets and in the kennels.
Also dedicated to René Chartrand who gave over twenty-three years of his life to caring for the Cats of Parliament Hill, and the White Mother, who was killed by a dog in 2010. May she rest in peace.