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Two Weeks a Cat Kept Visiting the Window—Staff Were Stunned When They Discovered the Reason
 
																								
												
												
											For two weeks, the cat kept appearing at the window. The staff couldnt believe it when they found out why.
Emily burst into the staff roomyoung, fresh out of training. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks flushed.
“Margaret! Hes back again! Can you believe it?”
“Whos he?” The ward manager rubbed her temples wearily. The night shift had dragged on, and now this
“The cat! Grey, with one white ear Hes been sitting there for an hour! And he comes every single day, can you imagine?”
“What do you mean, *every day*?”
Margaret, the head of the intensive care unit, skimmed through her paperwork before rounds. The new patient in room four still hadnt woken up. Fourteen days in a coma after being hit at a pedestrian crossing. Some reckless driver had sped through a red lightas if they didnt already have enough to deal with.
Emily perched on the edge of a chair.
“Its been two weeks now. He comes to the window of the room where Elizabeth is. Just sits there, staring inside The porters shoo him away, but he keeps coming back. Weve started calling him Charlie.”
Margaret grimacedas if they needed stray animals on top of everything else. She was about to scold the nurse, but something in Emilys voice made her pause. Instead, she got up and walked to the window.
There, on the ledge, sat a cat. Grey, with one white earjust as Emily had described. Thin, but clearly not a strayhis fur was scruffy, but someone had cared for him once. He sat oddly upright, like a sentry on duty, staring unblinking into Elizabeths room.
“Good Lord, what nonsense,” Margaret muttered. “Weve got people hanging between life and death, and were fussing over cats”
But something about it unsettled her. Maybe it was the sheer stubbornnessthe way the cat kept returning despite being chased off. What kind of devotion was that? Not even most humans showed that kind of loyalty.
“What do we know about the patient?” she asked abruptly.
Emily shrugged. “Almost nothing. Elizabeth, fifty-two. Lives alone, sometimes visited by her daughter. She was hit at the crossing just near her house”
“Which house?”
“That grey block of flats,” Emily gestured vaguely toward the window. “Just past the hospital fence.”
Margaret looked back at the cat. He seemed to feel her gazeturned his head. A shiver ran down her spine at the intensity of his stare.
The answer came unexpectedly later that day, when Elizabeths daughter brought in her medical records. A photograph slipped outElizabeth sitting in an armchair, holding a grey cat with one white ear.
“This” Margarets voice wavered. “Who is this?”
The daughter sniffled. “Thats Charlie, Mums cat. Went missing two years agodarted out the door when the plumbers left it open. She put up posters, searched every alley” She wiped her eyes. “She even refused to move. Said, *What if Charlie comes back? How will he find me?*”
Margaret felt a chill. The cat *had* found herbut too late. Maybe hed been nearby when the car struck, watching as the ambulance took her away. He must have followed it, learned where she was. But how did he know which window?
“Where does she live?” Margaret asked.
“Just past the hospital. That grey block of flats”
At that moment, the shrill alarm of Elizabeths monitors cut through the corridor. They ranMargaret, Emily, the daughter. The heart monitor flickered with the first signs of consciousness. The cat, of course, was forgotten.
When Elizabeth first opened her eyes, doctors swarmed around her. Bright lights, voices, the beeping machineseverything blurred.
“Mum!” Her daughter leaned in. “Mum, can you hear us?”
Elizabeth managed a weak nod. Speaking was impossibleher throat raw from tubes, her mouth bone-dry.
“Easy now,” Margaret soothed. “No rush. Youre doing wonderfully.”
Later, her daughter clung to her hand, crying. Then, suddenly, she smiled through her tears.
“Mum, Ive got a surprise for you. You wont believe it Charlies back!”
Elizabeth stiffened, trying to speak. Recognition, disbelief, joyall flickered in her eyes.
“Rest now,” Margaret said firmly but gently. “No excitement yet.”
“Can you believe it, Mum?” Her daughter stroked her hand. “He found you! Came here every day, sat by your window The nurses noticed. When I brought the photo, they knew right away!”
Tears rolled down Elizabeths cheeks.
“I took him home,” her daughter continued. “At first, he wouldnt staykept trying to get back to the hospital. But we made a dealId bring him to see you every day, once you were better”
When Elizabeth was moved to a regular ward, her daughter arrived with a large carrier, from which came an indignant yowl.
“No pets allowed,” a nurse snapped.
But Margaret just waved her off. “Let him stay. That cats earned his place more than most people.”
“Well, I never” Emily muttered.
“It wasnt a coincidence,” Margaret said quietly. “Sometimes love outlasts anythingeven time.”
“Easy now,” Elizabeths daughter cooed, lifting a disgruntled Charlie out. “Youll see Mum in a second”
The cat froze, sniffed the airthen shot toward the bed in a blur.
“Careful!” Margaret called, but it was too late.
Charlie was already at the pillow, nuzzling Elizabeths face, purring so loudly it echoed down the hall. And sheshe laughed and cried all at once, her trembling hand stroking his fur.
“Good heavens,” Emily whispered, wiping her own tears. “Like something out of a film.”
From then on, Elizabeths daughter visited daily. Oddly, Charlie seemed to know the exact timeby four oclock, hed pace by the door, yowling impatiently.
“How do you even know?” shed ask. “Can you read clocks now?”
Hed just flick his tail, shifting from paw to paw as if to say, *Hurry up, Mums waiting.*
“You know,” Margaret said once, watching them, “twenty years in medicine, Ive seen a lot. But this”
She trailed off, searching for words. Then she added,
“Maybe we humans still have a thing or two to learn about devotion.”
Back at home, curled beside Elizabeths bed, Charlie settled in as if no time had passed at all. As if there had been no coma, no hospital, no long days waiting outside a window.
And Margaret? She saw the world a little differently after that. Whenever she heard someone say animals didnt love or that miracles didnt happen, shed just smile. Because she knewreal magic didnt come from wands. It came from love.
And every time she passed that grey block of flats, shed glance up at the third-floor windows. Often, shed spot a familiar shapeCharlie, basking in the sun, eyes half-closed with contentment.
 
																	
																															
 
														 
																											 
														 
																											 
														 
																											 
														 
																											 
														 
																											 
														 
																											 
														 
																											 
														