He awoke during the middle of the night when the bed started to shake rhythmically. Hathaway peered around and found the movement was caused by Fiona, sitting on her rump on the bed, thoroughly washing herself with her tongue. He watched for a while but eventually fell back asleep. She kept working.

A few hours later, he stirred again. A warm weight was pressed against his chest. He put his hand to it and found soft fur. When he touched her, Fiona emitted a small chirp that sounded like Prrt? The sound made Hathaway smile and he stroked the cat a few times before settling back to sleep.

In the morning, he awoke to find her gone. He dressed in jeans and a navy crew-neck jumper, and entered the front room. Fiona was sprawled on the carpet in a patch of sunshine, watching him with her blue and green mismatched eyes.

"Good morning, Fiona. Feeling better?"

She just stared at him. She certainly looked better. Where the day before she had a dingy and unkempt cast to her coat, today she was glossy and bright, her fur shining white in the sun.

James headed for the kitchen. But halfway there, he saw he had made at least one error in judgment. Not sure how much litter to put in, he had nearly filled the pan, which he now saw was a mistake. She had scraped and carved it into hills and valleys, and it looked like most of the hills spilled out onto the floor. Litter was everywhere.

Groaning, he got a broom and dustpan and thoroughly swept the whole room. And the kitchen as well, when he found she had tracked it there, too. Ugh. Better get started on those signs.

She came running when she heard him refill her food dish. As he worked, she wove herself between his legs, chirping as she had done during the night when he touched her.

"I'm not fooled, little Miss. I know it's the food you want." But he smiled as he said it.

He sat at the table, drafting the "Cat Found" signs. Despite his competence with computers, he had an old-fashioned liking for drafting his outline with pencil and paper.

Fiona sprang to the tabletop, startling him so he nearly upset his mug of tea. She batted at the two extra pencils lying there, knocking them to the floor.

"Hey."

Then she went crazy, sending the pencils skittering away and chasing wildly after them. She barreled around the room, crashing into furniture and almost overturning a lamp.

"Hey!"

He jumped up and beat her to one of the pencils, but the other she managed to bat under the sofa, where neither of them could get it. She crouched, staring at it, willing it to come out on its own.

Without further distraction, Hathaway finished his draft and powered up the computer. He set to work creating his document.

After he had typed in most of the text, Hathaway's concentration was interrupted by mysterious noises from the bedroom, a clunk and sliding sounds. He saved his work, got up, and went over to see what was going on. He found Fiona on the floor, playing soccer with his watch, which had been on the dresser.

"Hey, no! Give me that, it's not a toy." Recovering the watch, he tucked it into the top drawer after checking to make sure it was not damaged. He returned to the computer.

A few minutes later, he heard more strange noises, this time coming from the bathroom. There he discovered the cat playing with the roll of toilet paper. Little shreds were everywhere.

"Would you stop getting into things you shouldn't? Look at this mess!" Fiona looked up at him with a little Prrt? Hathaway got the broom and dustpan and swept it all up, swatting at Fiona every few seconds to chase her away from the bits he had swept together. "Now quit it, I have to get this done."

As he typed, he muttered to himself. "'Found: white cat with green and blue eyes. Female, short-haired. Found on Saturday along the towpath near The Trout.' Guess I'll just put my mobile number. I'll be adding 'Generous Reward Offered,' if you keep it up, Fiona." He raised his voice at the last bit, as Fiona found a bit of wadded-up paper on the floor and commenced knocking it all around the flat.

When she was holding fairly still, Hathaway took her picture with his mobile for the sign. He just had to decide where to place the photo and how large to make it when Fiona jumped up on his lap, turned around and settled down, closing her eyes. She immediately started to make a quiet, rumbling sound that James realized was purring.

Hathaway melted, thoroughly charmed. Although he finished the sign within minutes and printed out ten copies, he ended up sitting at the computer for over an hour, doing whatever else he could online to entertain himself. Eventually, he realized she might sleep for hours and he hadn't had any lunch. With a quiet Sorry! he scooped her up and set her back on the chair, but she sprang up and followed him into the kitchen. She watched from the corner while he sliced some cheese, buttered two pieces of bread, and added a bunch of grapes to his plate. He was deciding whether it was too early to open a beer when his mobile rang. He sprinted back to the computer where he had left it.

"Mister Hathaway? It's Doctor Ashton. I was just wondering how you and Fiona were getting on. Are you able to get the antibiotic on her?"

"Oh, hi, Doctor. Yeah, she's doing great. It's a bit of an adjustment for both of us, I think, but so far we're getting on alright. She doesn't seem to mind the ointment much as long as I don't use too much. I've just made some signs to post, hoping her owner is out looking for her."

After ringing off, he returned to the kitchen to collect his lunch. Fiona was nowhere in sight. He picked up the plate and did a double-take: the cheese was gone.

"Hey, Fiona! Where'd you go, you little thief?"

But she had somehow turned invisible, and for all his hunting, Hathaway could find neither her nor the missing cheese.

After he ate (more cheese, eaten immediately after slicing!), he walked around the neighborhood, posting signs where he could. He had no idea how far the cat might have traveled, and tried to cover as wide an area as possible.

When he got back, he was greeted with a Prrt? and an affectionate rub on the legs. Then she unexpectedly dove at his shoelaces, and he tripped over the furry attacker, pitching forward and barely catching himself on the back of the chair. She was relentless, and he had to take his shoes off and shove them in the closet for their own safety. For the next hour, she stalked around the closed door of the closet, searching for a weakness, but to no avail.

That evening, while Hathaway sat and read, sipping a glass of wine, Fiona again jumped up and curled in his lap, purring softly while he absently stroked her fur. And after he went to bed, she once more pressed her warmth against him while he slept. Hathaway found he had slept more soundly that night than any within his recent memory. Graciously, he credited Fiona with that achievement.

* * *