Jump Street Archive


It was a cat.  Well kittens to be exact.  Tom Hanson leaned over the box and picked the orange and white ball of fluff up and held its tiny body to his warm chest…

“How’d you get here little fella?”  Hanson asked in a sleepy soft voice.

The gentle sound of their mew had brought him out of the dreamless sleep he had been in.  He had heard them over and over again; they were crying for food, affection… perhaps both.  For over an hour he was sure he had been dreaming.  Tom Hanson finally let out a flustered sigh as he threw his legs over soft sides of the mattress and out of the warm, safety of his bed.  Groggily he made his way over to the door still hearing the shrill, frightened sounds of their pitiful mew begging for someone to rescue them.  Curiously he opened the door to investigate the “Kitten Intruders” further. It was then he saw the broken down edges of a box at the top of the stairs.  Furrowing his brow Hanson made his way over to the brown cardboard carton where he discovered the furry vagrants making all of the unwanted racket.  

There were three of them total.   They had been unceremoniously left on the floor near his apartment.  The words FREE KITTENS inscribed across the front of their makeshift home in red crayon.  It was possible they were the property of a young child; a wide eyed boy or girl who had beggend their mother or father to allow them to keep them.  It was a possibility they had tearfully written the words on the side of the box, doing as they had been told in the hopes they would find a decent home.  There was a warm blanket inside the box to act as a buffer to the harsh climate of North America.  It had been a cold day today and the person who had had to leave them did so in a way they would be protected as much as possible from the harsh environment.  They were now inside Hanson’s building.  They hadn’t been there when he had gotten off work.  They hadn’t been there when he went for pizza with Penhall and Booker.  They hadn’t been there when he had gotten home at ten o’clock.  It was now two in the morning and they were there now.  Their cuddly warm bodies huddled together out of fear, mistrust, and cold discomfort.  Their pathetic cries could be heard resonating throughout the aged wooden hallway. 

“Hello little fella.”  Tom cooed as he lifted one from the box, feeling the fragile frame of the undersized orange and white feline.  He held it up in the air watching its tiny legs kick in an effort to feel the comfort and support they somehow knew a human could offer.  “What’s a good looking little one like you doing in a dark drafty place like this?”  He smiled gently placing the critter against his body. 

With the tips of his fingers he rubbed the tiny head betweens its large almost comedic huge ears.  The itsy bitsy kitten pushed its head up as if to say he loved the attention and desired more.  The rumble of purring could be heard all around as the tiny animal snuggled into Hanson’s neck searching for a place to warm its small defenseless frame.  The sound of mews could be heard again as Hanson looked back down into the box.  Two sets of large bright eyes glittered back at him as Tom curled up next to the box lifting the other two from their makeshift home.   


The sweet ring of the kitten’s voices melted Hanson as he cradled two others in his much larger arms. The other two one black the other tiger striped extended their sharp claws as they struggled to climb the man’s chest to get to their tiny orange sibling.

 “Well, I guess I just became a foster parent.” Hanson stated to nobody in particular. 

Tom Hanson returned the miniature cats back to their box and reached over lifting the crate into his arms carrying it and the precious cargo it contained back to his apartment.  The small mews filled his ears as he smiled back at the babies.  He had a few cans of tuna he could feed them.  All cats love tuna… right.  If not the milk would certainly keep them happy until he could get them some real food. 

It would be for only one night… and he could take tomorrow off to find the little ones a home… or maybe he could keep one.  He smiled to himself as the memories of childhood came flooding back to him reminding him of all the great things this life truly had to offer. 

The End

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