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The Christmas Kitten (Part 3)

Jekyll was roused from his daze by the mournful mewing of the cat. The creature was rubbing its head against his hand, crying despairingly.

The doctor moaned, waiting for the lingering nausea to wear off so he can try to stand. The kitten mewed again, happy to see its new friend was still alive, bringing a smile to Jekyll’s face. He reached out to pet the little kitten from where he was lying on the floor, and the kitten was more than happy to run up under his hand, purring as loud as it could possibly can.

Jekyll held more pity for the little kitten than Hyde would care to admit. He was sure all the kitten wanted was a warm place to sleep and someone to take care of it. Not that hard of a job, was it?

“Hey, you’re in a better position to look after that thing than I am,” Hyde reminded him after a moment. Jekyll sighed and shook his head as he slowly got up, taking care not to hurt the kitten as it scampered around underfoot.

It’ll need a name if he’s going to keep it, that was for sure. Jekyll wanted to keep it anyway; Having a pet might be good for his mental health. But what to call it…

“How ‘bout ‘Rat-Bait?’”

“Absolutely not,” Jekyll frowned as he fetched his glasses from his desk. He went about going through a list of names as he looked around for his waistcoat and necktie, confusing the kitten as he rejected Hyde’s other suggestions.

“… No, we are not going to call the cat ‘Pipsqueak’ either.”

“Come on! It would be funny! Especially if it winds up growing into a large cat.”

“The answer is still NO.”

“Geez, you sound like Lanyon snapping like that.”

“I was not…”

Lanyon. There’s a thought; Naming the cat after one of his old friends in London. Though ‘Lanyon’ doesn’t feel like a proper name for a cat. Nor did Utterson. Perhaps he could use one of their first names? How were they doing, anyhow? Jekyll had been meaning to write Utterson a letter when he found the time, if only to ask how things have been, how the weather over there was, any new developments in the city, how Utterson was feeling, or perhaps ask about the servants…

Oh, yes. Jekyll could afford a handful of live-in servants in his London home. Not that he treated them harshly or gave them ridiculous tasks most of the time; In fact, the only reason Jekyll even hired them was because the house was so big for one person to be living in. He didn’t quite need all the space when he wasn’t hosting dinner parties or lodging guests, but he had inherited it and the servants. He couldn’t take them with him to Babbage, though, so he left the house and servants with Utterson.

That didn’t stop the servants from asking about their former master now and then. Utterson did mention in their correspondences that Poole, Jekyll’s former butler, was missing him.

Poole… Jekyll thought about it for a moment before turning to face the cat. “How does Poole sound?”

The cat now known as Poole mewed back and scampered up to Jekyll’s legs. Jekyll smiled, “Oh, it seems the cat likes the name.”

“I’m still gonna call it Pipsqueak…” Hyde grumbled.

Jekyll paid no heed to Hyde’s complaints as he slid open the secret door to the living room. “Come along, Poole. I’m sure you must be hungry.”

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One Comment

  1. Azura Loring Azura Loring January 1, 2016

    (( LOL. I have a cat named Mouse because since it was a kitten and to this day doesn’t meow .. but .. squeeks ))

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