Lonely pensioner, Wendy, has spent most of her life providing shelter cats with a forever home. When her newest pet, Lucky, starts bringing home dollar bills, Wendy quickly realizes something suspicious is happening in her neighborhood.
“There, there.” Wendy reached into the pet carrier and stroked the shorthair cat she’d just brought home from the shelter. “This is your new home, Lucky, where you’ll always be safe.”
Lucky peeped out at Wendy’s other four cats, who were sniffing curiously in the carrier’s direction.
“That’s just your new family.” Wendy scratched behind the cat’s ears. “Let’s see if you’ll be brave enough to get to know them over dinner.”
Wendy went to the kitchen. Four of the cats came running when she opened the tin of cat food. She set down their bowls and was about to take Lucky his food to eat in the carrier when he appeared at the door.
“Mah-ow,” Lucky mewed at her.
“What a brave kitty.” Wendy stroked the newcomer and gave him his food. “I knew you’d fit right in.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Wendy fixed herself a grilled cheese for dinner. While she ate, she lovingly watched the cats get to know each other. Although she couldn’t really afford another pet, Wendy hadn’t the heart to say no when her friend at the shelter called earlier that day.
“Nobody wants this cat,” Hannah had said. “They can’t see past his scars and age to the sweet personality beneath. If you don’t take him, Wendy, I don’t know what will become of him.”
“Feeding five cats is not that much different from feeding four,” Wendy reasoned.
“The most important thing is that Lucky has a good home to spend the rest of his life in.”
However, Wendy soon began noticing the difference it made to her budget. The cat food and litter ran out just a little bit faster, and her pension was already stretched a bit thin.
Wendy sat down one day to figure out how to continue without digging into her meager savings. While she crunched numbers, a painful meowing caught her attention. She hurried into the sitting room and immediately realized something was very wrong with Lucky.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“But will he be okay, Dr. Perry?” Wendy pressed her hand against the transparent box. Inside, Lucky lay curled in a ball with a drip attached to his leg. His eyes were dull with pain.
“We’re doing our best for him, Wendy, but it depends on what happens next. All we can do is pray that he responds to the medication.”
Wendy stared at Lucky. She wasn’t even confident she’d be able to pay for his treatments, but she couldn’t let him suffer either. She wished she could reach in and stroke him so Lucky would know he wasn’t alone.
“What do you want with my cat and me? If you’re trying to poison us then you won’t succeed. I’ve already called the police!”
“I can see he’s another of your rescues, Wendy, so I’m only going to bill you for any medication we need to give him.”
Wendy shook her head. “As I’ve told you before, Dr. Perry, I appreciate your kindness, but Lucky is my pet and my responsibility.”
The young vet frowned at Wendy. “I’m still going to keep offering, Wendy. You’ve done these cats a great kindness by taking them in, and I wish you’d let me help you ease the burden where I can.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Lucky returned home in good health a few days later, but something strange started happening. The Saturday after she brought Lucky home, Wendy discovered a few dollar bills lying on her doormat.
She assumed they’d fallen from her purse when she returned home earlier, but she found more money the next day. This time, it was lying on her bedroom floor.
“What is happening?” Wendy muttered as she counted the money. She checked her purse, but no money was missing.
On Monday, Wendy uncovered a new clue. She was knitting a cap for her friend, Hannah, when Lucky entered through the cat door with something in his mouth.
“You better not be bringing mice into my house, Lucky!”
Wendy rose to see what the cat had brought in. She gasped when he dropped a twenty-dollar bill.
“Where are you getting these?” Wendy asked. Lucky’s only response was to rub against her legs.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Wendy called Hannah to ask if she knew whether Lucky had ever done anything like this before. Hannah was just as stunned by the cat’s behavior.
“Maybe he’s decided to pay rent,” Hannah joked. “I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, Wendy. You know what they say: don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
However, Wendy couldn’t bear the thought of Lucky stealing from one of her neighbors, for that was the only way she could imagine he was getting the money. She decided to watch the cat and see what he was getting up to.
Wendy kept a close eye on lucky the next day. He played a little with Snowy, one of her other cats, then went to sleep beneath a bush in Wendy’s yard. He slept a lot in many different spots.
Wendy watched Lucky tap lazily at a fallen leaf in the front yard. She was beginning to think this endeavor was silly when a strange car pulled up near the front gate. A person climbed out and crouched near the picket fence.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Immediately, Wendy set her knitting aside and reached for her glasses, but they weren’t there! Rather than miss the meeting between lucky and his partner in crime, Wendy leaned closer to the window and narrowed her eyes.
Lucky ran toward the person, who picked the cat up and cradled him on their lap. Wendy couldn’t tell if they were young or old, male or female. The person was too far away, and a hood hid their face.
After playing with Lucky for a few minutes, the mystery person set the cat down and gave him something. The person then ran back to their car. Lucky entered the yard and bounded toward the house as they sped away.
Wendy grabbed the cat the moment he crawled through the cat flap. He was carrying a twenty-dollar bill!
“You aren’t supposed to play with strangers.”
Wendy lifted the bill to the light to examine it. “Your friend could well be up to no good!”
Lucky rubbed against her legs and looked up at Wendy. “Mah-ow.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The more Wendy thought about the situation, the less sense it made. She began to worry that the mystery person had bad intentions. They might even be planning to poison Lucky!
Wendy was waiting when the car stopped outside her house the next day. As soon as they seemed distracted by Lucky, Wendy burst through the front door wielding her cane.
“What do you want with my cat and me? If you’re trying to poison us then you won’t succeed. I’ve already called the police!”
“Don’t be so harsh on my accomplice. I’m sure he also would want to repay you for the kindness you’ve shown him.”
The mystery person scrambled to their feet, but Lucky, startled by the sudden outburst, hooked his claws into the person and ran up their shoulder. As Lucky leaped to the grass, he knocked aside the person’s hood.
Wendy gasped when she saw the face beneath the hood. She pointed at the person with her cane.
“Why on earth are you giving Lucky money?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“I’m sorry, Wendy.” Dr. Perry raised his hands and started backing away to his car.
“Stop right there. You aren’t going anywhere until I get an explanation, Dr. Perry.”
“I just wanted to help. You always refuse to let me waive a portion of your vet bills, so I had to try another way. Lucky gave me the idea, actually. When we were treating him, I tried to get him to play by sticking a piece of paper through a ventilation hole in his cage.”
Dr. Perry smiled and shook his head. “He grabbed the paper in his teeth and carried it to the other side of the cage. I’ve never seen a cat do that, and I realized I could use him to make donations to you.”
“Donations?” Wendy straightened up. “I am not a charity case!”
“No, you’re a good person who’s too proud to accept a helping hand, Wendy. But I had to find a way to help you because you’re one of the few people I’ve met who cares as deeply for animals as I do.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“You see, I was just like you when I was a child,” Dr. Perry continued. “I used all my pocket money to buy food for the stray cats and dogs in my neighborhood, and they eventually became my pets. I also rescued any injured birds I found, but that all stopped when my mom remarried.”
“My step-father took all my animal friends and dumped them in the forest.” Dr. Perry hung his head. “I tried to find them, but I never did. I never forgave him or my mom, either. When I left home to become a vet, I cut all ties with them.”
“That’s terrible.” Wendy wiped at a tear spilling down her cheek. “I understand why you want to help me, Dr. Perry, and I do need the help, but I’ve lived alone all my life. I don’t know how to accept your kindness. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry I frightened you, Wendy.” Dr. Perry took Wendy’s hand. “Please, can we sit down and discuss a way I can help you care for your cats that won’t upset you?”
Wendy nodded. “Come inside. I have some pop if you don’t want coffee.”
Dr. Perry followed Wendy inside. Lucky was waiting at the door and greeted them with his usual ‘mah-ow’ and leg rub.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
After some discussion, Wendy agreed to let Dr. Perry bring food for the cats every month. He would also give each of her furry friends a check-up when he visited. That way, Wendy could continue enjoying her cats’ company without spending her entire pension on their care.
Dr. Perry also created a fundraiser to help with unexpected expenses, like Lucky’s sudden illness. Wendy wept with gratitude when Dr. Perry told her how successful the fundraiser was.
“Do you hear that, Lucky?” Wendy lifted the cat into her arms and scratched his chin.
“You’re set for life now. No need for any more dubious escapades on your part.”
Dr. Perry chuckled. “Don’t be so harsh on my accomplice. I’m sure he also would want to repay you for the kindness you’ve shown him.”
“I only wish there was more I could do for the cats in this city.” Wendy smiled as she listened to Lucky purring. “But I’m just one old lady, and there are only so many cats I can care for.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Two years later, Dr. Perry still remembered Wendy’s words on that day. He stood before the building he’d recently bought and converted into a shelter. Lucky was perched on his shoulder and seemed unperturbed by the small crowd gathered nearby.
“Thank you all for coming today,” Dr. Perry said. “While I’m happy to see so many familiar faces, it also saddens me that a woman I came to know as a close friend won’t be able to join us today.”
“Wendy spent most of her adult life providing a safe home to cats from shelters all over this city. To honor her memory, I hereby declare the Wendy cat shelter open for business.” Dr. Perry signaled to a man standing nearby.
The man lifted a cloth to reveal a portrait of Wendy with all five of her cats. Lucky was sitting on her lap, mouth open, as he begged for a treat. Dr. Perry had taken the photo himself, and it made him smile as he remembered that day.
“Wendy always wished she could do more to help the cats in our city. I’m counting on all of you to help me fulfil her dream by supporting this shelter.”
What can we learn from this story?
- Don’t be too proud to accept help. Dr. Perry offered to help Wendy with the kindness of his heart. Instead of being so proud of her independence, Wendy should’ve taken his kind offer.
- Many beautiful dogs and cats are waiting in shelters for loving homes. Next time you’re thinking of getting a pet, pay a visit to your local shelter. Maybe your next furry friend is waiting for you there.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a stray dog who guards a boy lost in the woods.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life
I Last Saw My Daughter 13 Years Ago, Yesterday I Got a Letter from My Grandson I Never Knew About
I lost my daughter 13 years ago when my wife left me for another man. Yesterday, I got a letter addressed to ‘Grandpa Steve,’ and my heart nearly stopped when I read what had happened.
Thirteen years. That’s how long it had been since I last saw my daughter, Alexandra. She was only 13 when Carol, my ex-wife, packed up and left. I was 37.
Young teen girl with blue eyes smiling | Source: Midjourney
I still remember the day like it was yesterday. It was a warm, sticky summer evening, and I came home from work to find Carol sitting at the kitchen table, perfectly calm, waiting for me.
Back then, I was just a construction foreman in Chicago. Our company wasn’t huge, but we built all kinds of stuff: roads, office buildings, you name it. I worked my tail off with long days, scorching summers, and freezing winters.
Man working in construction | Source: Midjourney
It wasn’t exactly a glamorous job, but it paid the bills and then some. My boss, Richard, owned the company. He was older than me, always wore fancy suits, and had this fake smile that bugged me.
The guy loved to show off his money. He drove expensive cars and threw parties at his huge mansion outside of town. Carol, my wife, ate that stuff up. She loved getting dressed up and pretending she was part of that crowd. Meanwhile, I always felt like a fish out of water at those things.
Woman laughing at a party | Source: Midjourney
But perhaps, if I’d paid more attention, I would’ve seen my wife’s next move.
“Steve, this just isn’t working anymore,” she said in a clipped voice, like she was reading from a script.
I blinked at her, confused. “What are you talking about?”
She let out a small sigh. “I’m leaving. Richard and I are in love. I’m taking Alexandra. She needs a better life than this.”
The phrase “better life” still makes me angry. I worked hard, harder than most to provide Carol and Alexandra with everything they needed. We had a decent house in the Chicago suburbs, food on the table, and clothes to wear. Sure, it wasn’t fancy.
A house in the suburbs | Source: Midjourney
We didn’t go on vacations or have designer anything, but it was more than many people had. I didn’t understand what was so wrong with it. Carol, however, always wanted more: more money, more luxury, more of everything.
Therefore, she left to shack up with my boss, and my life was shattered. I still tried to be a good father to my daughter. But Carol poisoned her against me. I believe she told her I didn’t care about her and that I had been unfaithful.
Mother gossiping to her daughter | Source: Midjourney
I don’t know. What I do know is that eventually, my daughter stopped answering my calls and opening my letters. I no longer existed to her.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of my misfortunes. I spiraled into a depression and ignored my health until I ended up in a hospital bed, facing surgery after surgery. The medical bills were so high that I had to sell my house.
Eventually, my job let me go for taking too many days off, although not working for Richard anymore was a blessing.
During this time, Carol moved out of state with my ex-boss, and my Alexandra was gone for good.
Man in construction clothes sadly sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
The years crept slowly by. I never remarried. I never wanted to. Instead, I worked hard to rebuild my health and focused on founding my own construction business. With that, I managed to claw my way back to a stable, if lonely, life.
At 50, I lived in a decent apartment, and I was financially independent. But there were many moments when I wanted my daughter back.
Wistful man in an apartment | Source: Midjourney
Then, yesterday, something happened that shook me to my core. I found a letter in my mailbox with a child’s handwriting, though they must have gotten help from an adult to address it.
The front said: “For Grandpa Steve.”
For a moment, I just stared at it. My hands started shaking. Grandpa? I wasn’t a grandpa. Or at least, I didn’t think I was. I tore the envelope open, and the first line nearly stopped my heart.
Man holding a letter saying “For Grandpa Steve” | Source: Midjourney
“Hi, Grandpa! My name is Adam. I’m 6! Unfortunately, you’re the only family I have left…”
I walked back to the house without thinking and sat on the couch to continue to read the letter. This Adam had help with some of the sentences, but he had written everything in these big, uneven letters.
It made me smile until Iread that he lived in a group home in St. Louis and that his mom, Alexandra, had mentioned me in passing.
He ended his message with: “Please come find me.”
Man holding a letter saying “Please come find me” | Source: Midjourney
Of course, I’d booked the earliest flight to St. Louis.
I didn’t sleep that night. How could I? Questions swirled in my mind. How did I have a grandson? Where was Alexandra? Why was he in a home?
Early the next morning, I was at the airport, and a few hours later, I was getting out of a taxi.
The shelter was a plain brick building with chipped paint and a sagging awning that read St. Anne’s Children’s Home. A woman named Mrs. Johnson met me in the lobby. She was around my age, with kind eyes and a soft voice.
Woman smiling at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
“You must be Steve,” she said, shaking my hand. “Adam’s been waiting for you.”
“Where is he? Is he really my grandson?” My voice cracked, but I didn’t care.
“I’ll let you meet him soon,” she said gently, guiding me into her office. “But there’s something you need to know first. Please, have a seat.”
It was in that tiny room, filled with folders and surrounded by pictures of kids, that my life changed.
Man smiling in an office at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
First, Mrs. Johnson confirmed that Adam was Alexandra’s son. She said she had greeted them herself the day my daughter surrendered custody of him, just a few months ago.
Mrs. Johnson told me the entire story in detail. Alexandra’s life had fallen apart after Carol kicked her out for getting pregnant at 20 without a husband. The father had left, of course.
Sad pregnant young woman at a bus stop | Source: Midjourney
Afterward, my daughter tried to make things work, juggling low-paying jobs while raising Adam in a tiny apartment. Then, a year ago, she met a rich man named David, who promised her a better life. But, he didn’t want someone else’s kid.
“That’s why she left him here,” Mrs. Johnson said. “She said she hoped he’d find a good home. I don’t think she knew how to love him even after all those years she raised him. It’s tragic, really.”
Woman at a desk in an office at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
My stomach turned. Alexandra had abandoned her own child. My Alexandra? How had it come to this? And then, I realized what had happened. She had spent six years living a harrowing life and traded it for a wealthy man. Just like her mother. It wasn’t a completely equal situation, but it was close.
It was what Carol had taught her.
“And Adam?” I asked hoarsely. “How does he know about me?”
Emotional man in an office at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Johnson smiled faintly. “He’s a smart boy. Apparently, he’d overheard your name during conversations Alexandra had with others. He even found an old diary that mentioned you. When she left him here, he told me he had a grandpa named Steve. I did some digging and found you. Then, we wrote the letter together.”
I nodded, still reeling, but Mrs. Johnson stood and walked to the door. “You know everything,” she smiled. “Adam’s outside in the playground. Are you ready to meet him?”
Woman smirking at the door of an office at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
I nodded and followed her with my heart pounding in my ears.
***
Adam was small for his age, with shaggy brown hair and big blue eyes that looked just like Alexandra’s. He clutched a toy truck in one hand and looked up at me with curiosity and just a tad of shyness.
“Hi,” he said quietly.
“Hi, Adam,” I said, keeping my voice steady. I knelt so we were at eye level. “I’m your grandpa.”
Man smiling at an outdoor playground at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
His eyes widened immediately, and a huge smile broke out on his face. “You’re finally here!” He jumped up and hugged me. “I knew you’d come!”
While I embraced my grandson for the very first time, I thought back to my life. I could hate Carol all I wanted. What’s more, that anger would probably get even stronger, considering that my daughter had turned into a version of her mother somewhere along the way.
But it was time to focus on what mattered. My grandson was in my arms, and he had been abandoned, just like me. That cycle ended here. Adam wasn’t going to grow up feeling unloved or unwanted. I didn’t care what it took. I was going to give him a home.
A boy with blue eyes smiling | Source: Midjourney
Minutes later, I told Mrs. Johnson, I wanted Adam with me, and she smiled. I noticed a sheen of tears in her eyes, but I didn’t mention it.
It was going to take some paperwork and time before I could take Adam back to Chicago. But Mrs. Johnson was confident there would be no issues if I took a DNA test to prove I’m his grandfather.
I promised to do that soon enough.
Man shaking hands with a woman at a children’s center | Source: Midjourney
Honestly, it’s strange how life works. Thirteen years ago, I lost my daughter. I thought I’d lost everything. But now, I had a grandson, and my whole life made sense again.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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