Graybaby Meets Socrates Scruffington

She barely knew the world. Yet there she was, perched high above it. The edge of the balcony had drawn the mischievous kitten's attention and her curiosity got the best of her, even at a young age. The two large humans who loved to pet her were asleep, and she found the crack in the door to be just her size.  Once through, the second-story balcony railing beckoned. When she slipped off, however, she was sorry she had ever discovered the crack.

She sprawled across the ground, her dignity quite bruised. So she did what any kitten would do in such a scary situation, she started licking her fur. It was then that a gray monster ran up to her, chattering at the top of its lungs.

"What are you doing down here you silly kitten. You'll catch a cold, or get eaten by Riley the Fox."

"Who are you, and where do you catch a cold? I'm hungry," the kitten replied.

"My name is Socrates Scruffington and I'm a squirrel. You don't really catch a cold, it catches you. So you better get back inside."

"I don't know how to do that."

"Great nuts, you're in quite a crack. What's your name?" asked Socrates.

"I don't know what my name is," she said.

The two large humans had kept repeating something, but she didn't understand their language. It wasn't that she couldn't understand, it was that being a cat she didn't care to try.

"No matter," said Socrates. "Since you're all gray and still just a baby, I'll call you Graybaby."

"I'm no baby," said the kitten. "I'm big enough to eat my own food."

"Well, that's not very special." I know lots of squirrel babies that not only eat their own food, but collect it too. Can you do that?"

"No, I guess not." The little kitten hung her head. "I guess I am just a Graybaby."

"Well, you won't be for long if we don't find you a home. I think we need to ask the Great Mole what you should do."

"What's a Great Mole?" asked Graybaby.

"Oh, you'll see. Come along, we need to hurry because Riley is on the prowl tonight."

And so they began their journey. They traveled down a long, winding trail through trees that swayed high above them. It frightened Graybaby because she was used to living indoors and the world had just become a larger place. It seemed to go on forever.

Soon they came upon a large trash heap, and Graybaby stopped to nibble. Socrates snorted, wondering why cats turned their noses up at nuts, but were willing to eat stinky stuff. Graybaby had to agree that the food was a little icky, but an empty stomach beats a smelly nose every time.

With Graybaby's belly full, the pair returned to their journey. Before long, Graybaby's curious nature finally surfaced. "How can this Great Mole help me?"

"Oh, The Great Mole knows about everything," Socrates said. "Some think he is just a dumb creature because he lives underground, but his tunneling has taken him places where he can secretly listen to the world above. He has become very wise, but he's not easily found."

The night had become dark as billowy clouds began to cover the white disc in the sky. Socrates looked up, and rattled his tail in pleasure. For the first time since meeting Graybaby he was getting a good feeling about solving the kitten's problem. It had seemed an impossible task at first, but with the fading light, he knew they would be safer from Old Owl and that tricky fox. It would also bring the Great Mole out of the ground in search of tree grubs, a delicacy he could not find underground.

They traveled by a big rock and then crept through a tangle of prickly bushes to escape being seen by Old Owl. The prickers didn't bother her fur, but turning a corner Graybaby got caught by one right on the nose.

"Yowch," she squealed.

"Shhh," said Socrates, turning toward her. "You have to be quiet."

"But I'm getting tired," said Graybaby. "My nose hurts too." She kept trying to lick the sore spot on her nose, but it still hurt.

"Oh for nut's sake. Keep up or we'll never find the Great Mole before the sun comes up."

Suddenly they heard a shuffling noise to the right where an old log lay, left by a giant of the woods that had grown old and returned to earth.

"Is that him?" asked Graybaby.

"Let me check," said Socrates, who promptly scampered off.

Graybaby waited what seemed to be forever. She was just starting to get scared again, though she would never admit it, when Socrates came rushing back.

"It's Him, it's Him. Come along, but be quiet."

They slipped through the woods to the old log and came upon a small furry creature digging at its base. The mole's round belly stuck out on both sides.  It hardly looked like a wise creature, but as anyone will tell you, looks can be deceiving.

"Great Mole," began Socrates as he moved up behind the digging ball of fur.

The mole turned abruptly from his work. "Who bothers me while I eat?"

"It's I, Socrates Scruffington."

"So, Old One-Leg and Phoebe's son who lives in the oak by the waterfall. Have you found a mate yet?"

"No."

"Well, hurry up.  The forest needs more squirrels or the oaks will grow too plentiful. You don't intend shirking your duty, do you lad?"

"Oh no," Socrates said.  He glanced over at the kitten and whispered to her, "You have to humor the old thing."

"Who's that you're whispering to? The old thing can hear better than you."

"This is Graybaby," Socrates said quickly. "She is lost and without a home. We came to ask your advice on what to do."

"I must think on this a while," said the mole, and promptly curled into a ball.

Graybaby sat patiently waiting while he did so. Respect for others wiser than yourself comes naturally to creatures, even cats.

Finally, after much thought, the mole stirred. Lifting his snout he said, "Up the great hill and beyond the pines, in the blue-shuttered house, lives a little girl. She cries every night as she tries to sleep. Her hamster Hamilton has died, and she longs again for the touch of fur under her fingers. You must go to her."

"But what of the two large humans who might also need me?" Graybaby said.

Socrates began to chatter, shaking his head from side to side quickly. When Graybaby turned to look at him she thought surely the squirrel's head might jiggle off.

"Don't question the Great Mole," whispered Socrates.

Graybaby simply turned her head back, an unworried look in her eye. Cats don't care about offending anyone. And indeed, the Great Mole wasn't offended by the question because he knew the ways of cats. He had learned about the manner of every living creature.

"The Spirit of the Wild will send another creature their way. It is the little girl that needs you more now. That is all I have to say." With that, he began to flail his little pink claws, and in the time it takes a cricket to chirp, had disappeared underground.

And so Graybaby and Socrates turned and traveled quietly up the forest hillside, careful not to disturb Old Owl and ever watchful for Riley the Fox. They didn't want to become a snack this close to the end of their journey.

Before long, they arrived at the blue-shuttered house.

"This is where I leave you," said Socrates.

Graybaby scrambled onto a low window ledge--the only one the small kitten could reach--and looked down at her new friend. She thought of saying nothing, which is the nature of cats, but felt she had to thank him.

"Come back anytime, and we'll talk about our adventure," Graybaby said.

Socrates smiled, gave a rattle of his tail, and left Graybaby sitting on the window ledge, mewing. The little girl heard the small sounds at the window, and rushed to save the wayward kitten. There was much talk in the house that night, and a great deal of pleading by the little girl. In the end, Graybaby had found a new home.

Every day after, Socrates would climb a great pine tree that stood outside the window of the little girl's room. Graybaby would leap to the ledge inside, and listen to the news of the woodland creatures that lived beyond the blue-shuttered house. Every now and then she would meow a response, but it was hard getting a word in around Socrates' constant chattering.

Still, time marches on, and change is everywhere. Animals know this better than humans because they are part of nature. The beam of light that warms a cat's fur changes its path. The light that shines at night grows from skinny to round, then back again. Trees loose their leafy coats, shiver in the cold, and then one day grow them back. Nature is filled with change, as it is with every living creature, including cats.

So in the way of all things, Graybaby grew to become a lovely, silky-furred gray cat. The little girl too grew to become a beautiful woman. One day she said goodbye to her mother, and moved all her things to a different place. Thankfully, she took Graybaby with her. One of the sad parts for Graybaby was saying goodbye to her squirrel friend of so many years. She sat and listened to Socrates chatter for hours on the great pine that grew by the window as they said their sad farewells.

Now, Graybaby sits and watches other squirrels as they scurry past her new window. Whenever they do, she thinks about Socrates Scruffington and wonders how he is doing, as good friends often do if they must separate. Sometimes her tail twitches automatically, and her ears twist back and forth as she watches them. She is still a cat, after all, but tries to pay them no mind out of respect for her old friend.

Besides, there is little need to worry about squirrels when the world is filled with birds.