Dave Whiskers's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

For six days, Dave Whiskers had practiced saying hello to Posie, and for six days his mouth had failed him. She was a tiny white kitty who drank from the puddle near his cave every morning. He loved her. She did not know his name. To her, he was just another stray who watched from the shadows and never spoke. Dave lived in a stone cave by the lake, tucked into rough rock walls with a low, weathered mouth. He liked it there because he could see the water without being seen. That was the problem. Watching was easy. Speaking was not. Every time Posie looked his way, his throat locked shut and he pretended to groom his paw. This morning he made a plan. He would not stand in the shadows. He would walk out, sit in the open, and say a full sentence. The sky was clear and blue, streaked with soft clouds. Good weather, he told himself, for being brave. He padded to the water's edge. Posie was already there, lapping at the puddle. Dave opened his mouth. Nothing came out. She glanced up. His courage drained like the puddle in July. Then the mud moved. A snapping turtle hatchling scrambled out from under a rock, no bigger than a walnut, with a rugged little shell and a sharp beak of a mouth. It headed straight for Posie's paws. Its jaws could still pinch. Posie froze, ears flat, too startled to run. Dave did not think. He darted forward and swatted the hatchling gently aside, herding it back toward the mud with careful taps of his paw. The little turtle hissed, then waddled off toward the water. Dave stood between Posie and the lake, breathing hard. "You saved me," Posie said. Dave looked at her. His throat was open. The words were right there, and this time he used them. "I'm Dave," he said. "I live in the cave. I've wanted to say hello for a long time." Posie tilted her head. "Dave from the cave," she said, testing it. "I didn't know the quiet cat had a name." "I do," Dave said. "It's Dave." She laughed, a small bright sound. "Well, Dave. Thank you." Then she stepped closer, sniffed his ear, and settled beside him on the warm stone. For the first time, he was not the stray in the shadows. He was the cat who spoke. They sat together while the sun climbed. Dave felt bold enough to imagine tomorrow. But Posie yawned, stretched, and rose. "My family's waiting," she said. "They're very protective. Especially my father." She trotted off along the shore. Dave watched her go, warm and terrified. He had finally spoken to her. Now she liked him. And now, somewhere down the shore, there was a father he would have to face.