The Cuthbert Catwatch Society-The Wind and the Watch

“The Wind and the Watch”

LP

A Cuthbert Catwatch Society Story

It started with a hiss—not from Willie Mae, but from the old box fan near the window, sputtering in the humidity. The retired patrol cat from Tampa sat on the worn armrest of her human’s recliner, eyes locked on the flickering television screen.

“Track’s shifting west,” the weatherwoman warned. “Hurricane Elvira may take an unexpected turn inland.”

Willie Mae’s ears twitched. Her tail curled tightly over her front paws. She had seen this pattern before. In Tampa, she’d once crouched in a storm drain while winds screamed through alleyways like banshees. She knew what was coming.

She dropped to the floor with a grunt and trotted out the open screen door, ignoring the slap of warm air and the bark of Pequeña, who leapt nervously from her porch perch.

Boo was on the back railing, watching fireflies rise like tiny lanterns in the dusk. Nosey was trying to catch them, leaping with kittenish joy while Willow offered half-hearted advice from the grass below.

Willie Mae stormed into the yard like thunder itself.

“BOO!” she barked.

Boo turned slowly, her golden eyes narrowing. “That tone better be necessary.”

“It is.” Willie Mae’s voice was grave. “Big one’s coming. Hurricane Elvira. She’s turning. Could hit here by tomorrow night.”

Boo’s eyes sharpened. She leapt down, Nosey scrambling after her. “How do you know?”

“Saw it on the news. I’ve been through a dozen. That path is trouble.”

Boo was quiet for a beat. Then she turned. “Cheyenne.”

Back at Willow’s house, Cheyenne was surveying the pantry shelves through the screen window when Boo’s silhouette appeared. The plan was urgent and military—exactly the kind of challenge Cheyenne thrived on.

“We need shelter for every animal in town,” Boo said. “Not just the Catwatch. Every stray, every squirrel, every nervous chihuahua.”

Cheyenne nodded. “I’ll need Joey to distract the humans again. Phryne too.”

“They’ll help,” Boo replied. “Start with the church basement. Midnight and Spot will secure the route.”

“I’ll start assigning zones,” Cheyenne said, her mind already turning. “Willie Mae, I’ll need your storm experience. You’ll lead the western patrol.”

Willie Mae grunted in approval. “I’ll keep them moving.”

As the first winds brushed the treetops, the Catwatch Society was already in motion.

Willow led Nosey and Ginny to round up the chickens and yard cats.

Midnight silently opened cellar grates and cleared paths,

while Spot—clearly saying “HELLO”—startled a teenager into opening the abandoned rec center where raccoons and opossums could hide. 

Even Rusty, the scruffy stray dog, helped guide a trembling beagle family toward the shelter Cheyenne had secured under the old courthouse.

Phryne kept lookout from the attic window, relaying signals to Boo using the porch light flickers Joey had rigged. It worked. Somehow, it all worked.

The wind came in shrieking waves that night, bending trees and slamming shutters. Roof shingles flew like angry birds. Somewhere, a power line sparked blue fire into the sky.

The animals huddled together—dog beside cat, bird beside mouse. Even Pequeña cuddled next to Rusty, too tired to tremble anymore. 

Boo kept a watch near the front, eyes never closing, ears tuned for any cry for help.

Willie Mae crouched by the storm drain entrance, her instincts keeping her tense and ready.

Cheyenne paced, muttering calculations under her breath, frustrated she couldn’t control the wind.

 Joey licked her cheek.

“You did everything you could,” he said.

She nodded once. “Still not enough.”

“It is,” he said gently.

By dawn, the wind was gone. Rain still whispered on the roofs. Trees were down, but the town still stood.

Boo stepped out into the gray light, water pooling under her paws. One by one, the animals emerged, blinking at the quiet. The shelters had held.

“Everyone made it,” Spot said in wonder. “YES.”

Willie Mae surveyed the damage with a practiced eye. “Could’ve been worse. Much worse.”

Cheyenne gave a rare nod. “You were right,” she said to Willie Mae. “And your plan worked,” she added to Boo.

Boo just flicked her tail. “The storm passed. So will this day.”

Nosey jumped up onto Boo’s back, soaking wet but grinning. “That was awesome! Like thunder and flying trash cans and—”

“Enough,” Boo said, but her purr betrayed her amusement.

By afternoon, the sun peeked out. Humans began to emerge, picking up debris, checking on neighbors.

And above it all, from the roof of the old library, the Catwatch Society gathered—soggy but proud, tails high.

They had faced the wind together.

And won.

The End.