Cathy always started her morning rounds with Mr. Amato. He was the least responsive of her patients. He floated in and out of consciousness, sometimes speaking in Italian, always calling for Dora.

"You're a very lucky man, Mr. Amato," Cathy thought. "You have two faithful friends in this life, Dora and Mary Bessler, and that's more than some people can count on."

She and Mary were on a first-name basis now and she enjoyed their brief daily conversations. Mary's stories about Dora the cat's conquests amused her, but she doubted the fading old man understood much. She wondered if what Mary felt for Mr. Amato was undeclared love, or just two souls who had become inseparable due to familiarity, like a pair of old shoes that belonged together.

"It won't be long now, will it?" Mary had asked her yesterday.

"We can't say for sure, of course. But he's rarely conscious and when he is, he's in another place. A happy place. You have to envy him, Mary. He's reliving the wonderful times of his life - maybe he's playing with childhood friends in Italy. Or working in your garden, taking care of the roses, giving Dora a lecture."

"Dora!" Mr. Amato said sternly and rolled over toward the window.

*******

Dora playfully nipped the blossom of a cornflower and stared at him defiantly.
"I'ma telling you one thing, cat. You eat another one of my flowers and I'ma gonna splash water on you!"

Dora knew it was an idle threat and was considering which flower to consume next when a dragonfly went flitting by. She jumped into the air and clasped her paws together futilely. Then she immediately began to lick her paw with an unconcerned air.

"You don'ta fool anybody," he chuckled. "T'i ciapparee ona altra volta... you'll catch them some other time."

*******

The nightshift nurse walked quietly down the corridor, stopping to pick up magazines from the lounge chairs and neatly arranging them on a coffee table. She stuck her head in each of the patient's rooms as she passed. Mr. Amato groaned in his sleep. She tiptoed past his bed and closed the window. The night had turned unexpectedly chilly.

*******

Dora nudged him gently, which only made him roll over and nestle more deeply into his pillows. She patted his cheek with her paw and he mumbled something and waved her away with his hand. She persisted and began to lick his eyelids with her sandpaper tongue.

"Ohhhh," he complained. "Cat! What am I going to do with you?"
He sat up slowly, focused his eyes and stroked her down her back, ending with a gentle tug on her tail. She playfully nipped his hand.

"What would I do without you?...Se te ghe fudesset minga ti, se podaria fà mi?" he said, shaking his head.

*******

The traffic crawled past a construction site as Cathy glanced nervously at the clock on the dashboard.
"Late again," she muttered. Adjusting to the new work schedule was taking its toll on her sleep.
She dashed from the employee parking lot at a half-run, and cursed as she fumbled with the security code on the keypad at the back door. Her shoes squeaked a staccato as she arrived breathlessly at the nurse's station.

"You know, the world won't end if you're a few minutes late," Sandra the new nightshift supervisor said as she looked up from the computer terminal.

"I know," Cathy gasped. "I just think I should set a good example."

"Well, it's not working," Sandra replied. "Two of the girls called off sick."

"Great," Cathy answered as she tossed her purse over the counter and onto an empty chair.

"And I've got some sad news," Sandra said. "Mr. Amato passed - he went in his sleep. I just called his friend, Mrs. Bessler. She's on her way. I haven't done anything in his room yet, I've been trying to catch up on this medication list."

"Don't worry about it," Cathy said. "I'll take care of it. You go home - you need your sleep."

********

A familiar stillness greeted her as she entered Mr. Amato's room. She stood next to the bed for a moment. His right hand clutched Dora's collar and he wore a slight smile of contentment. She said a silent prayer, grateful that another suffering soul had been released.

She picked up the collar and the little bell tinkled as she set it on the nightstand. She replaced it with the rosary beads that hung from the lamp and folded his hands over them. Her hand routinely smoothed out the indentation in the pillow next to his head and then she stared at her hand.

"Cathy," a small voice said tentatively from the doorway and Cathy whirled around with her fists clenched.

"Oh! Mary...I'm sorry...you startled me." She sat down in the armchair and took a deep breath as Mary walked to the bedside.

Mary patted her on the hand.
"This must be very hard for you," Mary said. "You have to deal with this sort of thing all the time."

"I don't think you ever get used to it, but you understand that it's the natural conclusion," Cathy answered. "I'm sorry for your loss. Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you," Mary answered. "It's not as if it was unexpected," she said sadly. "He's in a much prettier garden than mine now." She twisted the handkerchief in her hands.
"Well, I won't keep you. I'll come back later for his things. I have to make the funeral arrangements...just a small private service. You are welcome to come, of course."

"Thank you," Cathy said. "I'd like that. I'm only sorry I didn't get to know him earlier. I know how much you are going to miss him. I've been meaning to ask, will you be keeping Dora?"

"Dora? Oh no, dear," Mrs. Bessler acted surprised by the question. "The cat died a few months ago...about the time Mr. Amato started to go downhill. She was very old. He was too sick to realize and I didn't want to let on. I kept telling him stories about her and how much she missed him because it made him happy."

"I see," Cathy said thoughtfully. "By the way - what color was she?"

"A very pretty cream color," Mary replied. "Almost a gold - maybe that's why he named her Dora. With some red shading...rather unusual looking. He thought she was the most beautiful cat in the world."

"Well, they are together again," Cathy said with certainty. She stood and impulsively gave Mary a hug.

Cathy looked out the open window of Mr. Amato's room at the cloudless blue sky. She inhaled the spring air deeply. She watched as Mary Bessler walked slowly down the walkway toward the parking lot. She felt a sense of peace and hoped Mary felt it as well.

She slowly opened her hand and stared at the tuft of cat hair resting on her palm. She had brushed it from Mr. Amato's pillow. The golden cream strands tipped with red glittered in the sunlight. She blew it from her hand and it hung briefly in the air until a breeze carried it skyward.

The End