TILL IT’S TOO LATE
When she turned twelve, she was scheduled for an operation. Routine, planned, an hour under anaesthetic, a few straightforward stitches and she could go home that afternoon. He ought to have driven her to the hospital, but she never pressed him. She knew he was swamped the new Manchester office was about to open.
Everything will be fine, she said, planting a kiss on his cheek, slipping a handful of packets of cat food for the feral kittens that lived in the cellar of their flat into his bag, and slipping out the door.
He adjusted his tie, gave himself one last critical glance in the mirror, grabbed the project folder from the desk and headed for work. As chief executive of Whitaker Technologies, a company he had steered into market leadership over the past few years, he gave everything he had. Every spare minute was devoted to the business, reassuring himself that it was for them, for her, and even for the basement cats she fed every night.
He didnt dislike cats; it was just her hobby that seemed pointless to him, a frivolous pastime with no real value. He treated it like a quirk he had to tolerate, the way one puts up with a partners odd habits. So when she tried to bring home stray, fleainfested kittens, he flatly refused. Theres no point, hed say. No benefit at all. He suggested a purebred Oriental cat as a compromise at least that carried a bit of status. The cellar cats? He saw no use in them and grew weary of her explanations.
Operationsimpleplannednothing specialI should have gone with her!!! The words looped through his mind all week, a thousand, ten thousand times. He imagined racing to the hospital, discarding every distraction, clutching the white coat of a surgeon, trembling as the doctors eyes flicked over him. He imagined tearing the project apart, falling to his knees beside the bed, pressing his forehead to her hand and begging her to stay, to open her eyes, to say a single word.
She stayed silent. Neither of them knew that a routine operation and an hour of anaesthetic could turn into a coma.
Were doing everything we can, the doctor tried to convey.
Youre doing nothing! he shouted in helpless fury, paying for a private ward for her.
Theres a chance; we have to wait, the nurse soothed.
Wheres that chance?! he roared down the corridor when a week passed and she hadnt awakened.
He tried everything: consultations with the nations top specialists, music, endless conversation, filling her room with flowers. He began skipping work just to sit by her bedside every spare moment. He begged, pleaded, promised, even blackmailed. In fleeting moments of desperation he kissed her, recalling the absurd tale of Sleeping Beauty, and with each passing day his despair deepened into a feral rage that wanted to smash everything in its path. A chair toppled, a vase shattered, his bag flew open in a fit of fury, scattering the colourful catfood packets across the floor. The feral kittens never got a bite. Those useless cats, which had always stirred his contempt, were now hidden beneath a veneer of indifferent politeness.
Wretched! Lord, how wretched! he muttered.
If only he could turn back time, erase the mess with a wave of his hand. He would crawl on his knees, fetch every stray cat, love them, just to make her smile.
The surge of adrenaline that had been keeping his blood boiling faded without warning. He stared at the chaos hed created, his hands shaking as he gathered the scattered packets, preparing for the moment in ten minutes when he would stand at the cellar door once more.
This is called feline therapy, the attending physician said seriously, watching him haul the sixth carrier into the ward. There are no recorded cases like ours, though.
So well be the first, he croaked, releasing the animals from their cages.
Theyre her cats. She owns them! Id give anything to tell her that, he whispered. Just
Ill inform the staff, the doctor replied.
Thank you. I should have done this sooner I
Never lose hope. We all learn from our mistakes; remember that.
I wont forget I wont ever forget.
Again, at twelve she faced the operation. Simple, planned, an hour under anaesthetic and discharge the same day. She didnt demand his presence this time either, yet she couldnt hide the bright smile that spread across her face as he, having finally loosened his tie, clumsily slipped a sixth harness onto a cat that darted away from his grasp.
Her cats the same basement, fleacovered strays that had nearly broken her a year before, leaving her gasping for breath without understanding what was happening. Seven pairs of eyes drilled into her, six shallow sighs barely audible, and one triumphant, joyous cry she would never forget.
Perhaps thats why now, as she prepares to undergo the same ordeal again, she feels no fear. When she looks at her exhausted husband, a few stray hairs of fur caught on his shirt, she smiles even wider. He scoffs at the onlookers, a gentleman in an expensive suit surrounded by six impeccably groomed mixedbreed cats, each tugging a thin leash in a different direction, their collective Meow? echoing down the street a sight not for the fainthearted.
The operations simple, planned, an hour under anaesthetic, discharge the same day. And if you keep biting off more than you can chew, youll stay home next time, mutters a welldressed man in the hospital courtyard, a slightly chewed yet still lovely bouquet of roses resting on his knee.
He glances at his watch, steadies the six colourful leads, checks that none of the harnesses have loosened, then looks toward the windows of the ward where his wife is just waking from surgery. Soon theyll be allowed to see her. Hell finally be able to complain about the six tailwaving loungers who refuse to listen without her. And hell tell her how deeply he loves her, that hell love her forever, even if she spends days in the cat sanctuary his company helped fund a few months ago.
He still thinks of her as a bit of a dreamer, but remembering the day she opened her eyes convinces him each time that nothing in his life matters more than her. So he will keep chasing those impulsive, sometimes absurd wishes of hers, because as long as shes near, hes not too late.
Never wait until its too late to cherish the people you love; hope and a little compassion can turn even the most tangled mess into something worth living for.
