Page Title

Pumpkin The
Railroad Cat:

An icy wind blew across the dismal railroad yard and straight through Isabel’s fur coat. Like all cats,
she had landed on her feet as she was hurled from the van of her previous owner and landed on the
hard frozen ground with a thump. Now she watched it drive off in the distance, its brake lights coming
on, and for a second she had hope. Hope that they would stop and retrieve her; hope that they would
reconsider their actions, but atlas it was only to pause to see if a train was crossing the tracks, and
then it disappeared into the night and swirling snow.

“But Porche,” she could recall her owners saying to their young daughter as they tossed her out of the
van. “Isabel’s an old cat now. She can’t play with you like before and she would be much happier with
other cats around here.”

Isabel looked around the forsaken railroad yard and did not see any other cats, nor did she see
anything that resembled anything a cat would like. Still she knew she had to get out of the swirling
snow and started walking to the first building she saw.

It looked promising, at least for a cat like Isabel. A huge brick building, towering in size and looked liked
it would have mice in it. Isabel had never caught a mouse before, nor did she ever have to. For the past
twelve years she had been taken care of by a loving family, fed nothing but soft chewy cat food and
allowed to nap wherever the afternoon sun drenched the carpet. Now she knew mice would be her only
diet and tried to remember how she saw Sylvester the Cat captured mice on the cartoons that Porche
watched.

Isabel found her way inside the giant building by forcing her way between the brick wall and some
pipes. It was warm inside, heated by a giant furnace that pumped warm air into the spacious interior. It
had to be spacious. Twenty locomotives lined themselves up down the long building, each dismantled
to varying degrees, their engines and air compressors torn apart to be fixed. Isabel would have jumped
up onto one of the locomotives if only to poke her whiskers in the inspection of the machinists work, but
she was too old. Her bones creaked and her muscles ached, and the steps up to the deck of the
locomotives looked tall and steep.

Isabel was looking at these steps when a familiar smell came to her tiny pink nose. It was faint, but no
denying that it was cat food. No mice on the menu tonight,” she thought, and started to walk as fast as
her old body would allow her.

She walked around the locomotive erection floor and into a smaller room that was obviously the
Machinists and Electricians break room. In one corner stood two bowls, and just like at home, one held
water while the other held soft chewy cat food, perfect for her aging teeth and gums.

Isabel was a mere three feet from the bowl when a black cat crossed her path. He sneered at her, first
to stop her movement and then hissed to scare her. It worked at Isabel stopped short of the bowl of cat
food. Suddenly four more cats entered the break room and surrounded her.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here, another cat coming into the Back Shop,” the black cat hissed?

“I smelled food. I thought…” Isabel stammered out of fright.

“You thought what, that you could just come in here and eat our food. I don’t think so miss. If you want to
stay here, you better get used to mice.” There was a sickening laugh as the other three cats chimed in
with their friend.

“But I have never had to catch mice before. I don’t even know how?”

Again there was another sickening laugh from all four cats. They edged closer to Isabel and then the
black cat started his teasing again.

“Let me guess, you came from a nice home, was fed every day and were allowed to sleep any where
you wanted, but you made one mistake; you grew old?”

“Yes,” Isabel said meekly.

“Well you won’t get any sympathy from us. Around here it goes by senority, just like the Machinists and
Electricians. You can stay, but not here in the Back Shop, but up in the Engine House.”

“Yeah in the Engine House,” another cat said in a mocking voice.

“You’ll like it up there,” said another. “It’s all dirty up there, with oil and grease every where and nothing
to eat but mice.”

“And don’t forget Darrin,” said another. “Oh you’ll like him. He loves animals, especially cats,” she
reiterated, but somehow from the way she said it, Isabel concluded that she was being sarcastic.

“Before I go, can I at least get one last taste of cat food,” Isabel asked nicely? She watched cautiously
as the other cats looked at each other. Since her question was unanswered, Isabel started to make a
step for the food, but then her question was answered with tremendous pain.

The other cats pounced and in an instant four other cats were clawing and scratching at her with their
tenacious claws and teeth. Isabel tried desperately to defend herself, but with her age and sore
muscles she could do little to fend off the attack. Hissing and cries pierced the air, but the Back Shop
had no railroaders working in there during the night and there was no one there to hear her cries. No
one could help her, but fortunately in only a few minutes’ time the attack of the other bullying cats was
over. She scampered away as fast as her old legs could carry her and started for the Engine House.

It was not hard to figure out where she was destined to live. It was a large round building that stood
apart from everything else. Its large locomotives blasted the air with bells, horns and their constant
throbbing engines. Sparks flew out of their stacks, and the air was constantly filled with choking black
smoke. It was not hard to figure out why the other cats did not want to live here.

Getting into the Engine House was also a lot easier. Despite the frigid Maine weather, doors were
always opened to allow Locomotives to be pulled in or out and the men that worked twenty four hours a
day at the Engine House did not seem to take notice of her. At least that is what she thought as she
scampered through an open door and ran into the Engine House.

“Hey look, a new cat,” a Machinist said as he grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her into
the air. Isabel hissed, but the big burly man with wild hair and a pronounced paunch, grinned a sinister
smile at her. “A new cat to torment,” he said and with a flick of his wrist, Isabel felt herself flying through
the air. As the air rushed by, she saw the floor coming closer and closer, but the man had picked his
target carefully. Slipping past the level of the floor, Isabel landed in a giant pit used to service the
locomotives. She also landed with a splash, but her landing was not broken by a pit full of water, it was
a pit full of engine oil. Black, thick, dirty engine oil. She yelped at the injustice and then scurried through
the fluid as quick as she could, shaking herself off as she trudged up the steps of the pit and back onto
the floor of the Engine House.

“Nice shot Darrin,” the other guys laughed and the round of high fives began.

“Darrin,” Isabel thought, the man the other cats had warned her about. She looked over her shoulder
just to make sure she gave him a good look so she could always steer clear of the cruel man. She then
sneaked away, her head lowered in shame, her fur matted from the disgusting oil, and bloodied from
the beating the other bullying cats had given her.

Isabel spent much of the night trying to hide from Darrin, or any of the Machinists and Electricians that
worked in the engine house. She also tried in vain to lick the nasty oil from off her fur, but every time she
put her tongue to her fur coat, the taste of the oil repelled her. Isabel’s tiny feline heart sank to an all
time low as she considered her surroundings. She missed her former home, missed the owners, but
most of all missed the soft cat food she was given everyday. She hated to leave the safety of her hiding
spot under the electrical shop stairs, but the growing hunger pain in her stomach was too much to
resist. Getting up, she walked towards the break room, hoping mice might make like some of the
crumbs the Machinists and Electricians left behind.

Isabel was walking cautiously in front of the break room, on the prowl for mice when she was startled
by voices. Three workers burst unexpectedly through the small outside doorway and nearly stepped
onto her. She crouched down and hissed, fearing another oil bath from Darrin. This time though she
was surprised by a pleasing voice.

“Oh my, look guys; there is a new cat here.” There was a pause to the woman’s soothing voice as she
scotched down to meet Isabel at her own level. “It’s okay Honey. You’re okay here. We’ll get that nasty
oil off you and get you some food. Would you like some food,” the woman asked reaching out to pick
her up despite her oil covered fur?

Isabel felt comfortable around the woman, even as she grabbed her and pulled her close to her bright
red reflective vest. That was not the case however when she placed her inside the hand washing sink
the Machinists and the Electricians used and began to rinse the nasty black oil off her fur.

“Wow Susan, I don’t think I have ever seen a cat with that much orange markings,” Richard said as he
passed by on his way to the Assistant Managers Office.

“Oh I know. I think I will call her Pumpkin.”

Pumpkin was not fond of the name; after all she was supposed to be called Isabel, a name that was
statelier, more prominent, and had more respect. Pumpkin was the name of a vegetable that had a
bright, obnoxious color. But Susan took care of her and she accepted the name since she bought her
cat food and was not forced to chase mice for meals. Susan even bought her a litter box so that she did
not have to go outside on those snowy days to go to the bathroom.

Soon Pumpkin learned to get by with her new name and her new life at the Engine House. It was not
the life of luxury she had known in her domestic home in the city, but she soon learned to make the
most of her new home. She became accustomed to the loud engines of the locomotives. She started to
enjoy the distinctive sounds of their bells and air horns. And finally she learned which areas of the
Engine House were the most foul and avoided them at all costs.

She also avoided Darrin. She had heard him many times belittle her. Say nasty things about the feline
world and once even put a box in front of her cat door so she could not get into the ladies room. This
was where her litter box was, and for four days she was forced to go to the bathroom out in the cold
snow.

It was on the last day that she was forced to go to the bathroom outside that Pumpkin’s status at the
Engine House changed forever. She was out walking near the fuel island, searching for a fresh pile of
traction sand that was not frozen in the bitter cold February night when she ran into Darrin. She shivered
in the heavy wind of the fierce blizzard, but mostly in fear for what Darrin was going to do to her. This
time though, Darrin was not calling her names, but calling for her help.

Darrin had been putting on a new brake shoe when ice in the air system caused the brake shoe to
pinch his hand. Trapped and bleeding, Darrin was unable to summons help. The high winds carried
his cries off uselessly, while the cold temperatures had caused his other co-workers to head inside the
Engine House where it was warm. Worse yet, the cold temperatures were causing Darrin to become
hypothermic, a medical term that meant he was dying from the cold.

“Please Pumpkin, you got to get someone,” Darrin pleaded, his words coming out slurred and slow.

Pumpkin jumped up on his chest and pressed against his face for reassurance. It was the last thing
she wanted to do to someone who threw her into a pit of oil, but Pumpkin understood that when people
need help, they don’t care who it is that brings it. Darrin certainly needed help. His face was cold and
pale, hand bleeding severely, and she knew only Richard could help him.

Pumpkin did as her tiny feline heart told her to do and started for the Assistant Manager’s Office. It was
hard going for a cat. The snow was already a foot deep and she was forced to jump high with every
step and plow her way through the snow. It was also cold, very cold and making her wet. Twice she had
to stop to catch her breath and try to forget the pain in her muscles from all that jumping. Still a human’s
life was at stake and she knew what she needed to do. She could see the light of Richard’s office and
struggled forward despite the obstacles.

Once inside his office though, Pumpkin had two more obstacles to overcome. Making the high jump
from the floor to the top of his desk, and making the Assistant Manager realize one of his men needed
medical attention.

Pumpkin looked at the top of the desk and sighed. It was higher than she remembered. Her hips were
already sore and she doubted she could make the leap. She took a deep breath and leaped into the
air. She felt her feet leave the ground and saw the top of the desk come into view, then she
landed…hard. She came up short and slammed her stomach onto the edge of the desk and fell to the
floor. She also knocked the wind out of her.

Richard was too busy typing on the computer to notice the commotion. He was also too busy to pay
attention to her meows and kept typing oblivious to the plight of his employee. Pumpkin knew her only
recourse was to get his undivided attention. She stared up at the desk top again and was determined
to make it this time. She summonsed all the strength she could in her legs, recoiled, and then leapt.

She arced through the air, saw the edge of the desk draw closer and then winced in preparation for the
collision into her stomach again. This time though all four paws landed on the desk. She slid on top of
a piece of paper and crashed head first into the wall. It caused a lot of noise and Richard barked at her
for the interruption.

“Pumpkin, get off the desk,” he yelled in anger and was prepared to push her off the desk when he saw
the bloody paw prints on the sheet of paper. “Pumpkin are you hurt?”
Pumpkin understood now was her chance and jumped back down to the floor. She meowed loudly and
then started towards Darrin. Richard hesitated, but when he saw her bloody paw prints leading from
outside, he began to realize something was amiss. He grabbed his jacket and followed her. Pumpkin
ran, jumped and trudged through the snow back towards Darrin. Richard was close behind. Her hips
hurt and her paws were nearly frozen from the cold snow, but she knew she was too close to saving
Darrin to stop now. She made the corner by the fuel island and her mission was completed. Richard
saw Darrin and how his hand was stuck and ran to him. He forgot all about Pumpkin, but she was not
upset. Darrin needed his help and she just wanted to go the bathroom. After all that was why she
originally came out here in the first place!

After her heroic trudge through the snow that night, Pumpkin’s life drastically changed. Her story was
published in the local paper and she was honored as “Pet of the Year”. Best of all however was Darrin,
for he no longer treated Pumpkin so degradingly, but as a friend. The back Shop cats also treated her
differently, and one day they approached her.

“So Pumpkin, we talked it over. Because of your bravery, we have decided that we will wave senority and
allow you to come down to the Back Shop to hang out with us. How would you like that?” Pumpkin
mulled it over for a minute and then spoke, quietly, but with conviction.

“That’s okay Spook. I think I’ll stay right here in the Engine House. I finally have found my home.”