Alphabet Allie's Arc

Chapter 4 of 7

The next morning, Allie stood at the kitchen window with a glass of water. The dog was outside again, walking between the bluebells near his house. His tail swayed as he moved. Allie smiled and turned to set her glass in the sink. Then she heard a loud crash from the backyard. She ran to the back door and pushed it open. A calico cat stumbled across the grass, her orange and black patches flashing in the sunlight. The cat's legs crossed over each other as she ran. She wobbled left, then right, heading straight for a tall cement post near the fence. Allie's stomach dropped. The cat was going to slam right into it. Without thinking, Allie grabbed the bag of catnip from the shelf by the door and ripped it open. She scattered a handful on the grass between the cat and the post. The cat skidded to a stop, her nose twitching. She dropped to the ground and rolled in the catnip, purring so loud Allie could hear it from the doorway. Allie walked over slowly. The cat looked up at her with wide green eyes, then went back to rubbing her face in the scattered leaves. Allie knelt down and touched the cat's soft head. The dog wandered over and sniffed at the cat, who batted at his nose with one lazy paw. Allie realized she hadn't said a single word about letters. She hadn't explained anything. She'd just acted, and it had worked. The cat was safe. The dog sat down next to them both. Allie looked at the cement post, then at the wooden sign propped against the fence that showed a tumbling calico cat mid-stumble. Someone else had noticed how clumsy this cat was. Someone else had seen her and thought she mattered enough to make a sign about her. Allie's chest felt warm. Maybe helping someone care about letters wasn't always about talking. Maybe it was about showing them that everything in this world deserved attention. Even a clumsy cat. Even a single letter. Even her.