MIDNIGHT CALLERS

MIDNIGHT CALLERS

Knock knock knock!

Now, who or what could be knocking at the door at this late hour?

It was still cold, although the snowstorm had largely swirled to a stop, and just a flurry of snowflakes were drifting lazily past the big front window. Jezebel looked up at the clock. It was nearly midnight. The small paw was pointing to one, and the big paw was pointing to 12. That’s how Jezebel knew how inexcusably late it was to be knocking on anyone’s door. And who, or what, would be knocking at their door in the middle of winter? In the middle of backcountry New Hampshire? At midnight! And why would they be knocking on the door instead of ringing the bell (which was almost equally annoying, but it was the choice that most well-mannered visitors (as few as they were) would make, thought Jezebel!

Another reason she knew it was almost midnight? Ruggles, her partner of nearly 5 years, was snoring like a bear next to her and smelling like the candy canes he had been eating.

There was that knocking again!

Jezebel held her paws over her ears. The comfort of her café au lait snack a few hours ago was beginning to wear off. She didn’t like the smell of peppermint and she did not like to hear knocking at their front door at midnight!

Jezebel had been a cat for 8 years and not any old back alley stray, no run-of-the-mill rescue tabby, not another six-toed mixed breed! With her sophisticated feline lineage, she had both beauty and skills. Not like catching a mouse or taking acrobatic leaps in the air from here to there. No, those were child's play!! Jewel had once been First in Class in a purebred cat show at Madison Square Garden! She could even eat whipped cream off a silver spoon held between her paws without getting any of it on her whiskers.

Jezebel was special. Very special. Jezebel was a pedigreed Norwegian Forest Cat. One of the oldest and most venerated breeds in the whole fur-bearing world. A cat with mythical origins. Indeed, according to Nordic folklore, the Norse goddess Freya used to ride in a carriage drawn by two Forest cats! Not sled dogs, mind you, but cats just like Jezebel! Distant aunties of hers, no doubt. The Forest Cats dated back to the time of the Vikings, around 1000 A.D. These sturdy, fluffy, independent cats, it was said, traveled with the Vikings throughout Europe, often leaving behind their forest stomping grounds for ships, where they helped with rodent control . Jezebel was not just a pretty furry face!

Knock knock knock!

Jezebel was as big as a small boxwood shrub with soft feathery fawn and gray colored fur, alert pointy ears, and emerald green eyes that onlookers (if there were any) found hypnotic. Right now, those eyes were focused on the door where the knocking was coming from.

Jezebel’s eyes were narrowed and flashing, and her bushy tail (which was the size of a squirrel) was twitching with growing annoyance.

Jezebel liked a ladylike day that sequenced properly into the evening, a routine she could count on. Now, for example, before the disturbance, she had been curled up as usual on her puffy pink and white satin bed with the tiny elfin bells around the edges (a gift from a previous admirer), watching the snowflakes swirl about outside when the knocking had started.

Jezebel was not a single feline. Not on your whiskers. Jezebel lived with a big bear of a dog named Ruggles, an inky black Newfoundland dog, who usually, like Jezebel, was curled up in his bed on any night around midnight. Not any dog bed, but a cushioned Scottish plaid leather and wool bed lined with curly sheepskin that he had pulled from a recycling bin nearby one winter. Ruggles slobbered and snored, but he kept Jezebel warm with his large furry body, wrapping his big paws around her when the winter wind blew with extra bitterness through their little home, burrowed into the side of a grassy hillside.

That didn’t happen too often, the bitter winds. But then, neither did strangers pounding on their door.

Robbers? Thieves? Hungry bears? Stray beggars who wanted a meal or loose change? Who was knocking and what did they want?

“We can’t be too cautious”, warned Jezebel, crouching down at a safe distance from the door, flattening her ears and starting a low snarl.

“Remember the black bear who sat on our doorstep for two days, howling until we gave him our last tin of tuna fish and our goldfish snacks?? “

"We can't be too careful,” agreed Ruggles.

“Remember the sparrow family that made a nest in our flower pots and refused to leave?”

“Yes, they chewed up all the switchgrass in the yard last summer”.

.

“And let's not forget the skunk family that camped out on our doorstep that spring, waiting for a handout.”

Suddenly, it sounded as if horses were prancing on their doorstep. Bells were jingling, there was a rustle and a swish, and then it was quiet again.

Was it safe enough to open the door and look out? Were the robbers or bandits or evil spirits (after all, it was midnight) still there? Ruffles slid back the door bolt on the big front door with both paws. It swung open with a crash and a rattle.

Ruffles barked.

Jezebel stopped snarling and peered over his shoulder.

They both looked down at the front step.

There sat two large boxes side by side, wrapped in red and green paper and trimmed with holly branches.

ONE said“ TO JEZEBEL,” and the other package said “TO RUFFLES”, inside big green and red hearts.

On top, there was a picture of a man and his wife in their sleigh with their two dogs and two cats at their side, drawn by reindeer. They were waving mittened hands and paws!

“Read the card, Jezebel,” said Ruffles, (who had never gotten past R for Ruffles in the alphabet).

“Merry Christmas from all of us to all of you,” read Jezebel, “And Happy New Year!

From: Mr and Mrs Santa Claus!

See you next year….. Same day, same time!

Listen for the knock!”