WHAT CUDDLY BEAST

by Lindariel

Originally published in the 2025 BatB Convention Conzine

Fleshing out one of my ideas from the 2025 April 12th CABB Altered Episodes Challenge: Take an episode title, change just one word, and write a short synopsis of the resulting episode.

Original Episode Title: What Rough Beast

New Episode Title: What Cuddly Beast

Catherine finds a poor, bedraggled, sopping wet kitten abandoned in a box in an alley.  She brings the kitty home for some TLC while trying to figure out the best way to find a good home for the little creature.  However, when Vincent arrives on the balcony that night, the kitten immediately “adopts” Vincent as her new favorite person.

Author’s Note: Just a quick reminder, in my BATB universe, Elliott Burch is NOT dead, and he has taken back his birth name – Stanislaw “Stan” Kaczmarek. He knows about the Tunnels and has become a Helper and friend. Oh, and he’s becoming Kipper’s legal guardian.

* * * * *

It was absolutely POURING down rain, and Catherine was having no luck flagging down a cab in Friday rush hour traffic outside the DA’s office while juggling an umbrella, her briefcase, her purse, and a gym bag. Although it was well into May, clearly the April showers weren’t finished with New York City just yet, and it was unseasonably chilly out.

Huffing back her irritation, Catherine trudged further up the street to see if she might have better luck a few intersections away from the busy building.  She warily hustled into an alleyway just in time to avoid being soaked by a city bus splashing through a large water-filled pothole and paused for a moment to catch her breath.

“Mew, mew”

Catherine turned to see if she could spot the source of the odd squeaking sound, but she couldn’t see anything moving. No rats, please!

“Mew, mew”

There it was again, sounding much less like a rat, and this time she thought she saw a tall, soaking wet cardboard box wiggle a bit beside the overflowing trash dumpsters outside the back entrance of the local diner favored by many of her DA office colleagues.  Gulping back a lungful of “fresh” air, Catherine carefully approached the box and peered over the top.

“MEW, MEW, MEW, MEW, MEW!”

“Oh, my stars, you poor thing!” Catherine cooed, as she reached inside the tall soppy box and gently lifted out an equally sopping wet, shivering, scrawny calico kitten. She quickly pulled a sweat shirt out of her gym bag and wrapped up the tiny mewling kitten in some much-needed warmth.

“Mew, mew … mew …”

“There, there, sweetheart,” Catherine crooned, rocking her charge softly from side to side. “It’s OK. You’re safe now.”

The kitten burrowed further into the soft lining of the sweat shirt, and Catherine could have sworn she heard a little sigh.

“What kind of monster abandons such a sweet little thing in the middle of a rainstorm?! Well, it looks like I’m not going to the gym today. Let’s get you home and warmed up and figure out what to do.”

The kitten had settled deeply into the sweatshirt with only a little pink nose sticking out, so Catherine carefully placed her precious wrapped-up cargo into the gym bag, leaving the top partially unzipped, and crossed her fingers that she’d luck into a cab soon. AND that her little passenger would stay silent for the long ride to the Upper West Side.

As it turned out, luck arrived in an unexpected form. Catherine had just made a third unsuccessful attempt to flag down a cab, when one with the service light turned off pulled over anyway. The back door opened and a familiar voice called out, “Could I offer you a lift, Cathy?”

Catherine climbed eagerly inside the cab, carefully settling her gym bag, purse, and briefcase at her feet and declared, “Stan, you’re a lifesaver!  I’ve been trying forever to get a taxi!”

Stan Kaczmarek’s dimpled grin brightened his face as he stowed her wet umbrella with his own at his feet. “Always happy to be the knight in shining armor,” he replied with a quick wink. “Are you heading to the gym or to your apartment?”

“Well, I WAS going to the gym, but my plans have unexpectedly changed, so I’m heading to my apartment instead,” Catherine responded, placing a finger over her lips and pointing surreptitiously to the sleeping kitten in her gym bag.

Stan’s eyebrows rose precipitously as he murmured, “Ah! Well … life has a way of throwing us curveballs, doesn’t it?” Then he called out to the cabbie, “Change of plans, my good sir. We’re heading to the Upper West Side instead.” And he rattled off Catherine’s address.

As the cab pulled back into rush hour traffic, Stan fished out a small notebook and pen from his breast pocket and scribbled off a quick note. I happen to know a good veterinarian who actually makes after-hours house calls.

“I did say you were a lifesaver, didn’t I?” Catherine whispered with a smile.

“I’ll give him a call when I get home,” Stan replied and jotted quickly. Dr. Rudolph Kowalski, Rudy to his friends. I’ll send a kitty supply delivery as well.

Stan peeked a little closer at the gym bag and jotted a bit more. A calico. That means it’s probably a little girl.

“How do you know?” Catherine asked.

“My Mom was a bit of an enthusiast,” Stan replied, while scribbling, Mom fed all the neighborhood strays. Genetically, calicos are almost always female, but Rudy can tell you more.

He peeked at the kitten again. You should name her Lucky. She certainly is lucky you found her.

Catherine replied, “I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but whatever happens, I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

Once they arrived at the apartment building, Freddie the doorman rushed up with a large golf umbrella and took charge of Catherine’s briefcase and umbrella while she managed the gym bag and her purse.

“Thanks so much for the ride, Stan.  Give my regards to Luz, and to Kipper, too, if you’ll be seeing him today,” Catherine called through the open door.

“Yep, Kipper’s coming over for dinner tonight, so we can go over next steps in the guardianship process,” Stan answered.  “Have a good evening!”

“It’s going to be interesting, to say the least,” Catherine replied and then turned to accompany Freddie into the building.

“Thanks so much for your help, Freddie,” Catherine said with a smile. “By the way, I’m expecting a consultant sometime later this evening, Dr. Rudolph Kowalski, as well as a delivery from Mr. Kaczmarek.”

“Good to know, Ms. Chandler,” Freddie replied, as he summoned the elevator for her and placed her briefcase and umbrella inside. “I’ll buzz you when your guest and the delivery arrive.”

Glad for a moment alone in the elevator, Catherine quickly checked on the tiny kitten. She was sound asleep and wiggled just a bit when her cozy nest was disturbed.  Catherine smiled and closed up the sweat shirt. “Just checking on you, little Lucky,” she crooned. “I hope you’re gonna be OK after such a difficult, wet, cold day. I’d hate for you to get sick.”

She pulled out her keys and gathered up her various bags just in time for the elevator doors to open at her floor.  Once inside the apartment, Catherine dropped everything on the chair just inside the front door, shrugged off her raincoat, and carried her precious cargo over by the fireplace, kindling a starter log for some extra warmth in the chilly apartment. She opened the bag completely and pondered her latest responsibility.

“Well, Lucky, I’m sure you’re exhausted, and I hate to wake you up, but I also don’t relish the idea of fleas in my apartment,” Catherine mused. “So, I think the first step is to fix up a little bed for you and give you a nice, warm bath.”

While the kitten snoozed, Catherine slipped into some comfortable clothes for her unexpected evening of kitten chores. Assembling a kitty bed was no problem – a dry cardboard box and some soft fluffy towels would be sufficient.  After rummaging a bit through her bathroom closet, Catherine triumphantly unearthed a small bottle of baby shampoo left over from her last babysitting experience with Lena’s daughter and a small fine-toothed comb, and set up a wash basin of warm water inside her bathtub.

Little Lucky mewled and hissed her displeasure at being awakened and removed from her cozy, somewhat damp nest, which was immediately dumped into some soapy water in the bathroom sink for a good long soak. The kitten struggled weakly as Catherine lowered her slowly into the wash basin. But after a bit, the kitten gradually stopped hissing, relaxed, and allowed Catherine to give her a bath with the baby shampoo and to gently comb through her fur to remove any fleas. There were some, but thankfully not terribly many, which had Catherine declaring, “You certainly are a lucky girl, little Miss. This could have been a LOT worse.”

After a thorough rinsing with warm water from the bathtub spigot, Catherine gathered Lucky into a large bath towel and took her out to the living room by the fireplace to begin the process of gently drying her fur, combing throughout to make sure all of the fleas were gone. Once Lucky was completely dry, Catherine briefly petted and admired the kitten’s lovely mottled black, gray, orange, and white calico coat.

“You’re a little beauty under all that dirt, aren’t you?” Catherine cooed, then wrapped Lucky in another dry towel, and settled her into the makeshift kitty bed. Lucky mewled a bit, turned two tiny circles, then kneaded the soft towel before settling back into an exhausted sleep.

Catherine sighed. I’m sure she’s hungry, but I don’t really have anything suitable for a kitten, and I don’t want to make her sick. She watched Lucky for a bit, but once she was certain the kitten was soundly asleep, she took a few moments to tidy up her bathroom and washed and inspected the sweat shirt in the bathroom sink before deciding a trip through the washing machine and dryer would be an even better idea. Then she unpacked the rest of her gym bag, turned it inside-out, and carefully searched it for fleas. Fortunately, the bag and its contents were clear of the little pests.

Around 8:30 pm, Freddie rang the intercom to announce that Dr. Rudy Kowalski had arrived, along with Catherine’s expected delivery from Stan. Soon, she opened the door to a smiling, bespectacled gentleman with a short, neat, graying beard and moustache, balancing a doctor’s bag on top of a rather large, sealed delivery box.

“Welcome, Dr. Kowalski, and thank you for the house call,” said Catherine, as she hurried to help him with the large box. “Goodness! Stan said he was sending a delivery, but I wasn’t expecting anything this large.  Or this HEAVY!”

Dr. Kowalski laughed pleasantly, “Well, Ms. Chandler, a box of kitty litter isn’t exactly light! I expect that accounts for the weight. Stan explained your situation, so knowing him, he probably bought up everything he thought you might need, plus a few extras. Now, where is my little patient?”

Together they deposited the heavy box on Catherine’s coffee table, and she guided Dr. Kowalski over to the makeshift kitty bed by the fireplace. “Little Miss Lucky is right here, and sound asleep,” Catherine replied. “She’s had a rough day, and I’ve given her a bath to get rid of some pesky fleas, so she’s quite exhausted. She seems very thin to me, and I’m sure she’s going to wake up hungry. I hope you can advise me on what would be best to feed her. She’s just a tiny thing. Does she need kitten formula?”

Dr. Kowalski smiled as he gently lifted the wrapped-up kitten from her bed, eliciting a grumpy little Mew!

“Well, hello there, Miss Lucky,” he whispered. “I’m Rudy.”

“Mew! MEW! Hissssssss!”

“My goodness, such indignance!” Rudy laughed. “How rude of me to disturb your nap!” He settled on one of Catherine’s dinky couches with the kitten in his lap and opened his bag, removing a stethoscope and an otoscope. “Let’s take a good look and listen, and see if we can’t determine your age, young lady.”

The gentle veterinarian listened to Lucky’s heart, lungs, and belly, examined her eyes, ears, and teeth, checked her legs and body for injuries, and tested her reflexes.  “Well, Miss Lucky, your heart, lungs, and tummy sound healthy, and your teeth tell me that you’re about 8 weeks old.  Let’s see how much you weigh.”

He pulled a small sling scale out of his bag, and then clucked with concern after weighing the kitten. “You’ve had a rough time, haven’t you Miss Lucky? But that’s all going to change right now.” He turned to Catherine, “She’s about a half pound underweight for her age, which is a bit of a worry, but nothing we can’t overcome. She’s old enough for wet kitten food, but I think we should start with a bottle of kitten formula so we don’t upset her stomach. I expect she hasn’t had much to eat for a few days.”

He handed Catherine a small bottle with some dry formula inside. “Would you please fill this up to the line with some filtered water and then place it in a bowl of hot water for three minutes?”

When Catherine returned with the bottle of warm formula, Dr. Kowalski placed a wrapped-up Lucky in her arms and helped her entice the kitten into nursing from the bottle. Lucky caught on quickly and began greedily consuming the warm formula, her little ears pulsing with each pull.

While Catherine fed Lucky, Dr. Kowalski opened up the delivery box and began unpacking Stan’s haul:  a kitten-size litter box and scoop, a box of litter, a soft fleece cat bed and blanket, small ceramic food and water bowls, a cat grooming kit including a brush, flea comb, and nail scissors, an assortment of canned kitten food in various brands and flavors, powdered kitten formula and several bottles, a soft-sided cat carrier, and a tiny pink collar with a gold tag engraved with the name Lucky on one side and Catherine’s phone number on the other side.

“Goodness,” Catherine exclaimed, especially after examining the collar tag. “He’s thought of everything, hasn’t he?”

Rudy laughed. “What else would you expect from Stan? He never does anything half way. And for an abandoned kitten? He wouldn’t be his mother’s son if he didn’t go above and beyond to help.”

“How long have you known Stan, Dr. Kowalski?” Catherine asked.

“Rudy, please,” he replied, and took a moment to pull a few more items out of his doctor’s bag. “I’ve known Stan since he was a boy. We were neighbors in the Polish tenements down by the docks. Even though I’m a few years older than Stan, I was always small for my age, so we quickly became friends. I watched him help his Mom feed all the neighborhood stray cats and started doing what I could as well. Mrs. Kaczmarek was a wonderful lady. In a way, she inspired me to do well in school so I could get a scholarship for college and become a veterinarian. I know how hard things were with his Dad, especially after his Mom died, and I know why he changed his name years ago. I’m glad he’s found his way back to the old neighborhood and to see him putting all of his talent into doing good things for other people. It suits him. He’s always had a big heart.”

“I’m glad as well,” Catherine said. “Thank you so much for your help today.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” Rudy replied. “And we’re not quite done. Now that Miss Lucky has some good nourishment in her, it’s time for the less pleasant part of my visit – her first distemper shot.”

Lucky wasn’t pleased at all about the shot, but after a few hisses, she settled back into nursing from the bottle of kitten formula pretty quickly.

“What about a rabies shot?” Catherine asked. “I found Lucky in a wet cardboard box in an alley, and I have no idea how she got there or what she’s been exposed to.”

“She’s still too young for the rabies vaccine,” Rudy replied. “But I didn’t find any bite marks or other injuries on her, so I don’t think we need to be worried about rabies right now. I’ll leave you my business card and a schedule of appointments for her next shots and her deworming medicine.”

They looked down at the little kitten, who had polished off her bottle of formula and was fast asleep in Catherine’s lap.

“She’ll probably wake up hungry again in another few hours,” Rudy said with a smile and pointed to a small can of kitten food. “You can try some of this kitten food. It’s chicken, which will be easiest on her stomach. If she’s not interested, just prepare another bottle of the kitten formula Stan purchased. I suspect after a good nap, she’ll tear into the wet food, though. She needs to put on some weight.”

Catherine gently placed Lucky in her new soft fleece kitty bed by the fireplace, and retrieved her checkbook from her purse.  “What do I owe you, Rudy, for this wonderful house call?”

“Not a thing right now,” Rudy replied. “You have enough to worry about as a new Cat Mom. I’ll add the house call to your first office visit in two weeks.”  He handed her his business card. “I’ll look forward to seeing you and Miss Lucky again soon enough. You’ve done a wonderful thing here. I doubt Lucky would have survived if you hadn’t found her today.” He reached out his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Chandler.”

“Cathy,” she replied, shaking his hand and accompanying him to the door. “Have a wonderful evening, Rudy. Lucky and I will see you in two weeks.”

After putting away all of the kitten supplies from Stan and setting up the litter pan over by her trash bin, Catherine fixed a quick sandwich for her rather late dinner and ate while flipping through her address book, looking for friends who might possibly be able to offer Lucky a good, permanent home.  Maybe Nancy Tucker? Her kids are old enough to handle a kitten gently, and I bet they’d love a sweet little kitten for a pet. She looked over at the sleeping kitten, now stretched out comfortably on the blanket in her fleece kitty bed, no longer hungry and shivering, but warm and relaxed. I wish I could keep you, Miss Lucky, but you need someone who can be with you during the day, and I’m away from home so much…”

A light thump out on the balcony heralded the arrival of a much hoped-for Friday evening guest. Catherine dropped her half-eaten sandwich on the plate and rushed over to open the French doors to the balcony and throw herself into Vincent’s waiting arms.

“Oh, I hoped the rain wouldn’t keep you away!” Catherine exulted. “I’ve missed you so much this week! It’s been too long.”

“I couldn’t agree more, my Catherine,” Vincent rasped, his voice descending into the darker tones of his second nature, and he captured her mouth in a kiss that was equal parts tender, and longing, and demanding.

How long that kiss might have continued, they would never know, because they were unceremoniously interrupted by a tiny thump and a very insistent, “Mew! Mew! MEW!”

“What on earth?” Vincent asked, and Catherine took his hand with a giggle, drawing him further into the apartment and closing the balcony doors.

“Let me introduce you to my unexpected guest,” Catherine said as they rounded the dinky couches only to be confronted by a most indignant kitten. Lucky’s fur was rumpled from her nap, and she crouched defensively in front of her kitty bed after having fallen out of it less than gracefully. She was absolutely adorable!

“This is Lucky. I found her in a soaking wet cardboard box in an alley on my way home today,” Catherine stated. “Stan gave me a ride home and arranged for a veterinarian friend to drop by this evening and make sure she was OK. She must be hungry again. I’ll go fix her some food.”

“MEW! MEW! MEW!” declared the little kitten, as she toddled unsteadily, but determinedly, over to Vincent and immediately began trying to climb up his trouser leg! “MEW! MEW! MEW! MEW! MEW!”

Vincent lifted the struggling kitten in his large, gentle hands and brought her up, up, up to look into his smiling face. “Well, hello, little one,” he murmured.

A tiny paw reached out to pat Vincent’s cheek, and Lucky stretched out her neck to nuzzle at his chin with her teeny, pink nose. And then, she began to purr.

“Oh my,” Catherine mused. “That’s more affection than she’s shown me or Dr. Rudy this entire evening, and it’s the first time I’ve heard her purr.”

“She’s hungry,” Vincent replied. “I can sense it. Ravenous, in fact.”

“I’ll be right back with some kitten food,” Catherine responded, as she hurried to the kitchen to pull out the new ceramic food bowl and add the contents of one of the small cans of kitten food. “Here, let’s see what she thinks of this. Dr. Rudy said the flaked chicken would be easiest on her tummy. Otherwise, I can give her more kitten formula. She’s very underweight for her age.”

Vincent settled cross-legged on the floor by the fireplace and held the small bowl of food up under Lucky’s nose. She sniffed for just the briefest moment, and then immediately began devouring the food.

“Well, I think we have her answer,” Vincent noted wryly, then whispered to the kitten, “Easy, easy, little one. No one’s going to take your food away.”

Catherine giggled and settled on the floor beside him. Vincent studied her for a moment. “Unless I miss my guess, YOU are hungry as well, Catherine,” he murmured and nodded over at the dining room table. “Is that your abandoned dinner I smell? A sandwich? JUST a sandwich?”

“Well, excuse me, mother hen, but I’ve been a bit busy with this little lady here,” Catherine groused gently. “Are you hungry, too? Did you get some dinner before coming here?”

“Of course I did, Catherine,” Vincent replied. “It’s after eleven o’clock, for heaven’s sake. The dining hall closed hours ago so William could go prepare the late dinner shift at the St. Francis Cathedral soup kitchen. Go finish your dinner. Miss Lucky and I are just fine right here.”

Catherine grabbed her plate and wine glass from the table and settled right back on the floor beside Vincent. “I’ll just have a picnic, then,” she asserted a trifle smugly, while watching the little kitten consume her dinner at a slightly more sedate pace. “She’s a sweet little thing, isn’t she?”

“Oh, yes!” Vincent replied readily. “What are your plans for her?”

Catherine munched on her sandwich, somewhat solemnly. “I was thinking of calling Nancy Tucker to see if she and her family would like to have a little kitten for a pet.”

“You would give her up?” Vincent asked, subconsciously holding the kitten just a bit closer in his lap.

“Oh, I really don’t want to, Vincent,” Catherine replied. “But I’m seldom at home, and a little kitten requires someone who can look after them pretty much all day. I just can’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair to Lucky. She deserves a good home.”

“You’re right, of course,” Vincent responded, sadly, cuddling the kitten even closer.

Lucky finished as much of her food as her tummy would allow at about the same time Catherine polished off her sandwich.

“Let’s introduce Lucky to her litter pan,” Catherine suggested and motioned for Vincent to follow her to the kitchen.

Vincent handed Catherine the nearly empty food bowl and gently placed Lucky in the litter pan, scratching just a bit at the litter to entice her interest in exploring. Lucky wandered about the pan a bit, sniffing and scratching here and there at the litter, then suddenly squatted in the back corner.

“Oh, aren’t you a smart girl!” Catherine whispered as the kitten proceeded to take care of business. “Oh, I was hoping she’d catch on quickly. Litter pan education is the most important part of her curriculum right now.”

Vincent chuckled, as Lucky followed up her exertions by digging away at the litter and covering up the evidence before wandering to the sloped entrance to the litter pan and tumbling out gracelessly onto the floor with an indignant “Mew!”

“Here, here,” he crooned, scooping up the kitten and nuzzling her with his nose. “Well done! You’re all right. Everything will be easier to manage once you put on some weight and regain your strength.”

“And grow longer legs,” Catherine added, circling Vincent’s waist with her arms and leaning against his shoulder. “It makes me sad to think I won’t be able to watch her grow up. She’s undernourished and underweight, but she still has such a strong spirit. Dr. Rudy said she likely would have died if I hadn’t found her today. I can’t even bear to think about it.”

Vincent settled Lucky against his chest, where she immediately cuddled closer and began purring again. With an arm around Catherine’s waist, he guided the three of them over to one of the couches to relax. Catherine leaned against his side and softly stroked the now drowsy kitten. Vincent quietly watched her.

At last he broke the somewhat melancholy silence that had descended over the apartment. “You know, Catherine, you do have friends Below who could happily be persuaded to help look after Lucky,” he murmured. “The chief volunteer being me.”

“Really!” Catherine breathed. “You don’t think Father would object?”

Vincent leaned his head to the side. “He might,” Vincent replied. “But he’d be drowned out by a chorus of Yeas from adults and children alike. I happen to know Mary is particularly fond of cats. And we do have Arthur as a precedent.”

“Oh, Vincent, if that could be possible, I promise I will handle all of her veterinary needs, provide food, litter, and any other supplies to take care of her!” Catherine responded eagerly. “I really DON’T want to give her up. She’s completely captured my heart.”

“And mine as well, it would seem,” Vincent added, snuggling the kitten just a bit closer. “I find myself not wanting to let her go.”

Lucky cuddled even closer to the big man. The lady was nice. But Lucky had definitely found her new favorite person in Vincent.