Lucky #9

The smell of something sweet and tempting slipped into Gregory’s rat nest. One eye popping open, his nose already hard at work calculating the possible location. Setting up with a stretch and slipping out past the broken bucket that provided a lopsided passage to the outside world. The tempting scent was coming from the opening of the alley blending in with the familier smells of Gregory’s home. Gregory was already salivating. Slipped back into his den to check his stash, which turned out to be a bit of hard pizza crust. wrinkling his nose at the tasteless thing. He had no choice. Gregory couldn't bring himself to eat it. Not with that smell filling his home.

Giving his home one last longing look. His nest, a carefully curated bowl of fluff, and scraps of colorful fabric he had selected for their warmth and softness. something he hated venturing too far from, but the most precious thing Gregory had was, Lucky.

Lucky was a rag doll no bigger than him. It had been hand knitted with vibrant colors of red, orange and black with Lucky #9 stitched on the front of the sweater. Time and dirt had worn the dyes, leaving it stained and a dull beige. Not that Gregory cared. Giving one last snuggle to Lucky, Gregory left to face the outside world.

Climbing through the broken pallets and stacks of garbage hiding behind the boards Gregory dared to stick his head out in the open. His thin sharp nose finally found the source of the scent.

There, at the mouth of the alley a cupcake wrapper caught in between the brick wall and a pipe that ran to the roof. Swallowing hard studying the flood of light and noise coming from the outside. That was the world of hustling feet and loud noises, something Gregory’s mother had warned him about. Him and his litter mates, not that they listened. One by one his larger brothers and sisters disappeared and never came back, lost to the world beyond.

Carefully, step by step, nose in the air sniffing the tempting smell blending with the smells of the alley. Slipping along the tight spaces between the wall and debris that lined both sides. Horrible ways to die and terrible fates filled Gregory’s mind as he slipped around the garbage. The alley was dangerous enough for him.

Crouching on the slick asphalt watching the people hurrying by, going to wherever people go. Slipping unseen to the end of his cover. On the opposite side was the wrapper, colorful sprinkles decorated the bright pink paper and there inside was a chunk of cake just sitting there for the taking.

A brave rat would just run straight for it after all it was just a couple of feet ahead of him. Choosing instead to scurry to the closest pile on the opposite side of the alley. Diving between two bags, his heart racing, Gregory had to stop for a moment to catch his breath and quiet his nerves.

Watch the people go by, not one of them looked his way. Setting there for a moment. Relaxing slowly with the realization they didn't care at all about him or his alley. After a long moment Gregory stood up filled with confidence. Winding up to make his move, freezing in the same motion. That's when Gregory heard it, clinking of glass bottles. A Heart beats warning, scrambling backwards into the safety of darkness. back through the broken boards, cat claws catching the hairs along Gregory’s hide. Scrambling out of the heap of garbage. With a jump and a twist, Gregory shot across the alley diving under his dumpster, squeezing back into his burrow. A loud thunk of bone hitting metal and swipes of claws following him. Pressing behind the dumpster wheel with eyes shut. Sharp claws swiping through his nest catching him on the side of his face. To Grgory’s horror watching claws sinking deep into Lucky's faded red knitted sweater. Snatching the rag doll from her resting place out into the open alley. Gregory running after his beloved Lucky #9 jaws snapping at his poor dolls hand trying to rescue her from this fate. Gregory’s jaws snapping closed on only the damp air of the alley. with that she was gone.

Watching the cat shake Lucky loose from its snagged claw. the cat sitting down contemplating the rag doll's fate. tail swishing closer. watching with sickening horror as the cat nudged her with his paw, before swatting the doll deeper into the alley. pouncing on her chest biting at her face tearing the stitching bits of stained fluff exposed at her neck. Panic taking hold, racing for the cat tail, biting hard, catching a mouth full of hair before darting back the way he had come. Plunging deeper into the alley running under and behind every barrier and slogging garbage bags. Diving in between stacks of slouching wet cardboard boxes. The cat crashing through the bags just a breath behind Gregory. Twisting to the left diving back under the garbage, ahead, a white rusted metal bird cage laid on its side among the rubble. Gregory had an idea.

Squeezing through the rusted bars pressing into the bottom waiting. the cat leaping free of the boxes. paws shooting through the rusted bars. snapping at them. connecting hard this time getting ahold of the flesh and bone blood filling Gregory’s mouth as the cat howled in pain shaking Gregory loose. The cat crashed through the cage's open door. Gregory squeezing through the bars. The cat hissing, howling and struggling to turn around in the confined space.

Leaping over the cage scrambling back through the alley snatching up Lucky, Gregory’s claws struggling to find a hold darted back under the dumpster. Lucky safe in his jaws. Shoving Lucky behind the dumpster wheel backing up as far into the corner as he could, teeth bared. Waiting, but nothing came. Instead rain started to padder on the molded trash lids. Soothing sounds relaxing his nerves. Glancing back making sure Lucky was still safe before inching out little by little sniffing the air as he crept to the edge. Only the scent of rain and wet pavement greeted him.

Turning his attention back to his Luck #9, lifting her wounded form from her hiding place and putting her back in her rightful spot in his nest before curling up the sounds of rains soothing patter on metal surfaces.

Curling up against her wounded chest with a deep breath, the love was still there.