At first glance, Zephyrina looks like a problem. Indeed, she’s quite proud of that fact.
This slightly tattered and torn street cat knows how to handle herself. Zephyrina knows all the smelliest trash sites and garbage cans. And she doesn’t give a whit what people think while she’s digging about in them. She goes where she pleases, eating what she wants.
However, Zephyrina also prides herself on being the “Robin Hood of felines.”
While she’s raking trash bags with her sharp claws and plucking out the best morsels, Zephyrina is also keeping a keen eye out for discarded stuffed toys. And, if she’s in the mood, she might just grab one she finds and give it a second chance.
Of course, it’s all because of Pocket the bear.
Pocket is a little hand-sewn, “mascot” bear that’s been around for a good long while. He was designed way back in World War I to fit inside a soldier’s jacket, eyes sewn a bit higher than normal so that he always gazed upward. That way, when the soldier glanced at his pocket, he would see an endearing token of love from someone back home.
Not that a scroungy cat cares about any of that. But Zephyrina does care about Pocket. There’s just something special about this tiny, brave bear who’s small enough to hide—unseen—behind a maple leaf. Pocket is loyal, dependable and self-sacrificial. He’s … lovable. So if Pocket softly asks for her help, Zephyrina will gladly give it.
Together, this cat and this stuffed bear have an arrangement.
You see, Pocket resides in an apartment that belongs to Elizaveta and her daughter, Dasha, refugees from war-torn Ukraine. And young Dasha has a passion for rescuing and reconditioning cast-off toys. She scrubs the stuffed animals clean and patches them up before admitting them to her “Second Chances Home for the Tossed and Treasured”—of which Pocket is a member and the resident commander.
The Second Chances crew may look like a collection of old stuffed toys, but Zephyrina—or Corporal Z as Pocket calls her—knows better. At midnight, the toys all abandon their rigid daytime postures to cavort and play.
Corporal Z watches and listens. She hears Pocket speak to them with a wisdom that belies his diminutive cuteness. And Z understands that if those toys are lucky, they may once again be able to find their way into another child’s arms.
Not that Zephyrina cares about that. She, frankly, couldn’t care less about human children. (And they’d best steer clear of her claws.) But new toy homes are Dasha and Pocket’s dream. So if that’s Pocket’s desire, then Corporal Z will do whatever it takes to make it happen. She’ll take swipes at any slobbering dog, dig through any stinking pile and pull off any ninja-cat heists required.
For Pocket deserves that kind of respect.
