When Pinky Came to Stay

It began on a quiet afternoon in the Savannah, when Marmalade suddenly sat bolt upright.

His ears twitched.

His tail flicked.

His nose wiggled.

“Oh no,” he muttered. “I know that feeling.”

Lou-Anne looked up from her sketchbook. “What feeling?”

“Brother feeling,” Marmalade said seriously. “Pinky is coming.”

Right on cue, a travel basket appeared at the edge of the clearing, gently lowered by M’Pofo’s trunk. Inside sat a cat who looked a lot like Marmalade… but also very different.

Pinky was a soft, pale ginger and cream, with careful eyes and a thoughtful expression. He stepped out slowly, placed one paw down, then another, and looked around as if judging the entire Savannah.

“So,” Pinky said, “this is where you’ve been living.”

Marmalade puffed up proudly. “Yes. It’s warm. There are friends. I nap a lot.”

Pinky sniffed the air. “I see.”

At first, Pinky found everything… interesting.

He inspected Lou-Anne’s shoes.

He tested the shade under the marula tree.

He stared at Ubejane for a very long time.

Ubejane shifted. “Why is the small striped loaf looking at me like that?”

“He’s assessing you,” Marmalade explained. “He does that.”

Pinky followed Marmalade everywhere, but never too close. He preferred to perch, observe, and think. While Marmalade napped in the sun, Pinky chose the higher spot, preferably somewhere he could see everything.

Vakawu tried to make him laugh by doing somersaults.

Pinky blinked once. “Effort noted.”

Kiera bounced past. “Want to play?”

Pinky considered this carefully. “Maybe later. Or tomorrow. Or next week.”

That evening, Lou-Anne noticed Pinky sitting alone, watching the stars.

“You’re missing home, aren’t you?” she said gently.

Pinky didn’t answer right away. Then he sighed. “I like routines. Familiar corners. Knowing where everything is.”

Marmalade padded over and sat beside him. “You’ll get used to it. The Savannah is very good at that.”

“But what if I don’t?” Pinky asked quietly.

Marmalade thought for a moment. “Then you stay just long enough. That’s allowed too.”

Pinky leaned against his brother, just a little.

The next day, something changed.

Pinky discovered the perfect observation spot near Omi’s garden.

He learned which sunbeams moved where.

He even allowed Nuru and Buhala to sit near him, as long as they stayed still.

And when Lou-Anne sat down to read, Pinky surprised everyone by curling up beside her.

“I suppose,” he said softly, “this place has its comforts.”

Marmalade grinned. “Told you.”

When it was time for Pinky to leave, he stood at the edge of the clearing, tail wrapped neatly around his paws.

“I won’t say I love it,” he said. “But I didn’t dislike it.”

Marmalade purred. “That’s very high praise, coming from you.”

Pinky touched noses with his brother. “Take care of this place.”

“I will,” Marmalade promised.

As Pinky’s basket was lifted away, Lou-Anne waved. “You’re always welcome back, Pinky.”

Pinky looked down once, eyes soft. “I know.”

And Marmalade watched until he was gone, then stretched, yawned, and returned to his nap spot.

“Brothers,” he said happily, “are like that.”