Love and Hate Relationship With Ms. Kitty


This is probably the lightest and rarely seen lamentations I have contrary to dark, grim and cold expositions in the past. For those who already know, I decided to eat my hollow and overdue pride staying at  mom’s for free food and lodging. I really want to work on getting published. Not that I’m burning this desperate ass to earn it.  I was hoping through prayers and hypnotism, they’d jump on the site by accident and write an almost bed-on-their-knees-wanting letter.

So I got home redesigning the old room. Up at usual time of the night, I stumbled over (literally) Ms. Kitty. She looks a month or maybe less than old but has condescending look towards my being comfortable around the kitchen.  I politely said Excuse me but she responded hastily with litany of  meows. I didn’t want mama to think it was the end of the rope for me, a reasonable consequence of depression and poverty, hence  mind-mumbling preceded response.  How dare you! I said. In the middle of confrontation, mama snitched her out at the door. I felt guilty.

The next day I got up looking for her, realizing that relationship should be straightened out as housemates. Unluckily for her, she’d be out most of the time.  Papa told me he took her in (by force I assume) while she was dangerously strolling around like some road beauty queen.  I reckon she’s unaware of her extremely small size, even a barefoot 5 year old kid can clumsily crush. Muscles are noticeably super un-lean (if there’s such a word), that I have to nourish her oh-so-gentle mouth with fish. She probably thinks I was toying a trap because the choking almost killed her. I sneaked in a lid cover with tap water, which might appear as deep well for her I’m-staring-at-you big eyes, to swallow down food. There’s no way I’ll perform a resuscitation.  Her tattered fur has probably not known of shower. The way she has dip tests the water, it seems it was her first. I was glad to give it, but definitely not in a sexual way. Ewww!

The next few days I was serving her milk. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings by cautiously not touching. God knows where she rolled over that coat. But because of my compassionate nature, I gave it a try slowly running fingertips on rough nose and then that between those ears. (I don’t know if I can call it forehead). She seems delighted, ears were popping like wolf. I ran upstairs to get back in the room while she followed with puppy more than kitty eyes. Oh no. There’s no fucking way you’re getting in..

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Abby Mabb

Snarly female. Occasional book reviewer.

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