A Small Problem

There was a knock on the front door of Bag-End, causing both Frodo and Bilbo to raise their heads in surprise. September 22nd had arrived, a brilliant autumn morning, and both hobbits sat at the kitchen table finishing their second breakfast.

"Goodness, I wonder who that could be," Bilbo murmered, smiling at Frodo who nibbled on a scone with raspberry jam. "I daresay your Aunt Esme and Uncle Sara won't be here till at least supper! Unless they made an early start..."

A rather large party had been planned to celebrate Frodo and Bilbo's birthdays, where favorite relatives would be arriving to take part in the festivities. Frodo was especially excited to see Merry, Esmerelda and Saradoc's only son.

"Shall get it, Uncle, Bilbo?" Frodo asked, shutting the book, his crystal eyes full of curiosity.

"No, lad, I'll get it. Just finish your breakfast." Bilbo walked the short distance to the main hall, opening the round green door to find Samwise Gamgee standing on the front step.

Sam, the youngest son of Bilbo's gardner, Hamfast, had become close friends with Frodo over the past ten months.

"Well, good morning, Samwise," Bilbo spoke kindly, knowing Sam could be awfully shy and nervous. He took notice of a large basket on the lad's arm, and could have sworn he heard a soft "Mew!" coming from beneath the checkered towel. "What have you got there, lad?"

"Begging yer pardon, Mr. Bilbo, sir, but our cat just had kittens last week, and Ma said they're ready for a new home. She said you and Mr. Frodo could have first pick if you like."

Bilbo arched an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder and calling Frodo's name. His twenty-two year old nephew hurried into the hall, nearly colliding with his Uncle as a result.

"Oomph!" Frodo grunted, and clasped his hands behind his back. "I'm sorry, Uncle."

Bilbo ruffled Frodo's dark curls, and motioned towards their guest.

"Hullo, Sam!" Frodo greeted, and Bilbo encouraged the younger hobbit inside, who eagerly accepted the invitation. Sam always loved visiting Bag-End, and since Frodo's arrival in Hobbiton, these visits happened quite often. Everything in Bag-End was so fine, in comparison to Number 3 Bagshot Row. Before meeting Mr. Bilbo in person, Sam had heard rumors of gold-stuffed corridors, and other endless treasures from the old hobbit's journey to the Lonely Mountain some fifty years ago. Frodo assured Sam this wasn't the case, and even took the gardner's son on a grand tour.

"Sam wants to offer us one of his cat's kittens," Bilbo explained as Sam put the basket on the floor in the parlor, removing the towel that had kept the baby animals warm.

Frodo's eyes lit up with delight...he'd had a kitten at Brandy Hall once, but it had run away shortly before the death of his parents. He never felt quite right asking Bilbo for another, though this was a perfect chance.

"Can we have one?" Frodo asked hopfeully. "Please, Uncle? I promise I'll take good care of it. I had a kitten before at Brandy Hall."

Bilbo chuckled, squeezing the tweenager's shoulder. "I trust you, Frodo, and yes, you may have one."

"That's wonderful, Mr. Bilbo!" Sam clapped his hands.

"How many did your cat have, Sam?" Frodo knelt down on his knees, so he could get a better look.

"Six, sir," Sam replied.

Bilbo was about to ask Sam if he would like a cup of tea from the still half full pot, when he felt a dreadful tickle in his nose. He fumbled for a handkerchief that he always kept in his breast pocket, and sneezed a short time later.

Frodo and Sam both stared at Bilbo in surprise, especially when he sneezed a second time.

"Bless you!" They both chirped at once, and Bilbo blew his nose, excusing himself.

"I hope you aren't catching cold, Uncle Bilbo," Frodo said, holding a black kitten with a white heart-shaped chest and green eyes.

"I'm all right, lad, just a few sneezes," Bilbo insisted, though his nose still itched. "Sam, would you like a cup of tea? We have plenty from second..."

Frodo winced as Bilbo sneezed a third time, cleaerly exhausted, and sat down on his chair. "Goodness..." he placed a hand against his chest.

"I'll get the tea, Uncle," Frodo insisted. "You just rest a moment."

"I think the black one would be perfect, Mr. Frodo," Sam said as he followed Frodo into the kitchen.

"D'you?" Frodo asked, pouring his guest a cup, just as Bilbo broke into another fit of sneezes.

"Better get some tea for Mr. Bilbo, too, sir," Sam suggested. "If he is gettin' a cold in his head."

Frodo smiled and did as Sam recommended, hoping his Uncle wasn't coming down with something. After all, they had a lot of company coming for the party, and it would be a splendid couple of days. Frodo supposed he could play a proper host if Bilbo was in deed sick, but it would be a lot to take on.

"Frodo, might I speak with you a moment?" Bilbo asked when the younger boys returned with mugs, accepting the tea when Frodo handed it to him.

"Yes, Uncle, of course," Frodo replied, and followed Bilbo into the hallway.

"I'm afraid there's a small problem," he whispered, watching as Sam sipped from his mug, keeping a close eye on the babies in the basket. "I think I may be allergic to cats. I've been well all day and only started this dreadful sneezing when the basket came in."

Frodo frowned deeply. "Are you sure, Uncle?" he asked.

"Last time my nose itched this badly was when I rode a pony for the first time," Bilbo explained.

"I knew you were allergic to horses, Uncle Bilbo, but..."

Bilbo had held up a hand to stop his nephew from speaking so he could sneeze again, getting the handkerchief in place just in time.

"Oh dear," Frodo sighed.

"I'm so sorry, lad," Bilbo apologized. "Perhaps you can still choose one, and you'll be able to visit it at the Gamgee's every day. After all, we're not far down the lane."

It wasn't quite the same as having one to care for all the time, but he didn't want his Uncle to be ill.

"What are we going to tell Sam?" Frodo asked.

"I'll talk to him, Frodo," Bilbo insisted. "We mean no disrespect, after all."

He doubled over again with another violent sneeze, and Frodo touched Bilbo's arm.

"Why don't you lay down and rest, Uncle? I can handle Sam," Frodo insisted. "Besides, you wouldn't be able to make it through a conversation without a sneeze." He smiled, and Bilbo gave his nephew a hug.

"Thank you, my boy," He whispered. "I'm going to take a rest, as you suggested."

Frodo watched as his Uncle walked slowly towards the master bedroom, before rejoining Sam in the parlor.

"Is everything all right, sir?" Sam asked, holding a gray and white striped kitten on his small lap. Frodo sat down on the opposite side of the basket, looking longingly at the black and white kitten that he was so sure would be his very own.

"Uncle Bilbo will be all right soon," Frodo replied. "Sam, he's allergic to cats, we can't keep one here."

Sam looked alarmed. "Oh I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo, I didn't know," he said, his lower lip beginning to tremble, and Frodo shook his head.

"You wouldn't have known that," he insisted. "I didn't know, either. The only thing Uncle's allergic to that I knew of was horses. He said I could have one, still, but you'll have to house him, Sam, if your Ma would do so."

Sam looked uncertain for a moment, his cup of tea forgotten for the time being.

"I'll ask her, Mr. Frodo," Sam replied. "It's a right shame."

Frodo hated seeing Sam so disappointed, but then he had a thought. "Would you like to come to the party tonight, Sam?" he asked. "I know it was originally just for family, but you are just like family! You'll get to meet my cousin Merry!"

It was Sam's turn for his brown eyes to sparkle with excitement. "Could I, Mr. Frodo? I wouldn't be imposin'..."

"Nonsense," Frodo insisted. "We'll have plenty of food, and if it will make you fel better, I'll ask Uncle Bilbo right now if you can come. That way you can tell your Ma it's an invite from both of us."

Sam nodded eagerly, and waited for Frodo to come back. He re-covered the basket of kittens and put it over his arm again, gazing around at the cozy parlor. Two portraits hung on the wall above the fireplace, which Sam remembered, were Bilbo's parents. They'd owned Bag-End until their passing, and the house was given to Bilbo. "Uncle Bilbo tells me not much has changed since they lived here," Frodo told Sam upon their first tour together. "He likes to keep everything as it was, saying it makes him feel as though his parents are still with him." Frodo frowned. "I can understand that. I miss mine all the time, too..."

Frodo scampered back into the parlor, and gave Sam a great hug. "I told you It would be all right," he said. "Uncle Bilbo said to invite your parents and siblings, too. He didn't want to be too forward."

Sam bowed. "Aye, sir," he said. "I will. And I'll make sure yer kitten is taken right care of until you can come see him tomorrow."

Frodo waved as Sam headed back towards Number Three, and sighed happily. This, he thought, would certainy be one excellent birthday.