After a few minutes, the stranger set Lucky down and handed him something before rushing back to their car. Lucky bounded towards the house as the car sped away.

Wendy grabbed Lucky as he crawled through the cat flap, noticing he was carrying another twenty-dollar bill.

“You aren’t supposed to play with strangers,” Wendy scolded.

Wendy lifted the bill to examine it. “Your friend could well be up to no good!”

Lucky rubbed against her legs and looked up. “Mah-ow.”

The situation made Wendy increasingly uneasy. She began to fear that the stranger had malicious intentions, possibly even trying to poison Lucky.

The next day, Wendy waited as the car stopped outside her house again. Seizing the moment while the person was distracted by Lucky, Wendy burst through the front door wielding her cane.

“What do you want with my cat and me? If you’re trying to poison us, you won’t succeed. I’ve already called the police!”

“Don’t be so harsh on my accomplice. I’m sure he also would want to repay you for the kindness you’ve shown him,” the stranger replied.

Startled, the hooded figure scrambled to their feet, but Lucky, frightened by Wendy’s sudden outburst, clawed at the person and leaped onto their shoulder, knocking their hood aside.

Wendy gasped as she recognized the face beneath the hood. Pointing her cane at the person, she demanded, “Why on earth are you giving Lucky money?”

“I’m sorry, Wendy,” Dr. Perry said, raising his hands defensively as he backed toward his car.

“Stop right there. You aren’t going anywhere until I get an explanation, Dr. Perry.”

“I just wanted to help. You always refuse to let me waive a portion of your vet bills, so I had to try another way. Lucky gave me the idea, actually. When we were treating him, I tried to get him to play by sticking a piece of paper through a ventilation hole in his cage.”

Dr. Perry smiled and shook his head. “He grabbed the paper in his teeth and carried it to the other side of the cage. I’ve never seen a cat do that, and I realized I could use him to make donations to you.”

“Donations?” Wendy straightened up. “I am not a charity case!”

“No, you’re a good person who’s too proud to accept a helping hand, Wendy. But I had to find a way to help you because you’re one of the few people I’ve met who cares as deeply for animals as I do.”

“You see, I was just like you when I was a child,” Dr. Perry continued. “I used all my pocket money to buy food for the stray cats and dogs in my neighborhood, and they eventually became my pets. I also rescued any injured birds I found, but that all stopped when my mom remarried.”

“My stepfather took all my animal friends and dumped them in the forest.” Dr. Perry hung his head. “I tried to find them, but I never did. I never forgave him or my mom, either. When I left home to become a vet, I cut all ties with them.”

“That’s terrible,” Wendy said, wiping away a tear. “I understand why you want to help me, Dr. Perry, and I do need the help, but I’ve lived alone all my life. I don’t know how to accept your kindness. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry I frightened you, Wendy.” Dr. Perry took Wendy’s hand gently. “Please, can we sit down and discuss a way I can help you care for your cats that won’t upset you?”

Wendy nodded. “Come inside. I have some pop if you don’t want coffee.”

Dr. Perry followed Wendy inside, where Lucky greeted them with his usual “mah-ow” and a leg rub.

After a heartfelt discussion, Wendy agreed to let Dr. Perry bring food for the cats every month and provide regular check-ups. This arrangement allowed Wendy to continue caring for her cats without exhausting her pension.

Dr. Perry also organized a fundraiser to cover unexpected expenses, such as Lucky’s sudden illness. Wendy was moved to tears with gratitude when Dr. Perry announced the fundraiser’s success.

“Do you hear that, Lucky?” Wendy lifted the cat into her arms and scratched his chin. “You’re set for life now. No need for any more dubious escapades on your part.”

Dr. Perry chuckled. “Don’t be so harsh on my accomplice. I’m sure he also would want to repay you for the kindness you’ve shown him.”

“I only wish there was more I could do for the cats in this city,” Wendy replied, smiling as Lucky purred contentedly. “But I’m just one old lady, and there are only so many cats I can care for.”

Two years later, Dr. Perry still remembered Wendy’s words from that day. Standing before a new building he had purchased and converted into a shelter, he felt a sense of fulfillment. Lucky perched on his shoulder, seemingly unfazed by the small crowd gathered nearby.

“Thank you all for coming today,” Dr. Perry addressed the attendees. “While I’m happy to see so many familiar faces, it also saddens me that a woman I came to know as a close friend won’t be able to join us today.”

“Wendy spent most of her adult life providing a safe home to cats from shelters all over this city. To honor her memory, I hereby declare the Wendy Cat Shelter open for business,” Dr. Perry announced, signaling to a man nearby.

The man lifted a cloth to reveal a portrait of Wendy surrounded by all five of her cats, with Lucky sitting on her lap, playfully begging for a treat. Dr. Perry had taken the photo himself, smiling fondly as he reminisced about that day.

“Wendy always wished she could do more to help the cats in our city. I’m counting on all of you to help me fulfill her dream by supporting this shelter,” Dr. Perry concluded, inviting everyone to join in honoring Wendy’s lifelong dedication to her feline friends.