listen up children, aaron has a story to tell. it might make you cry, be warned.
but before i start, let me ask you a question.
in your life, now think hard about this. in your life, how happy have you been to receive one cheeseball? (cheese curd, whatever)
whatever you answer is, you probably weren’t as happy as little Cheeseball. Cheeseball is a stray cat i found literally five or ten minutes ago outside a convenience store.
i was just leaving the store, amazing cheeseballs and extremely delicious orange slushie in my hands, when i saw a skinny little rat. or at least i thought it was. it turned out to be a starved, scruffy orange kitten. i couldn’t do much at first, since my hands were full, so i put the slushie in my car. i kept the cheeseballs out, to see if the kitten would eat them. (i know, i know. cheeseballs aren’t that healthy for cats. but there wasn’t any chicken, so.)
the kitten avoided me like the plague for a bit, even though he was sniffing at my greasy cheese-filled treats like they were chocolate to a kid. so i broke one in half, and threw one half over to him.
now let me tell you, that kitten acted like a threw a goddamn FEAST at him. the little shit SAVORED that damn thing. sadly, the feast was over before he knew it. i looked at my remaining cheeseballs, and threw them one by one towards the little guy. by the time they were all gone, the little shit walked on over, and plopped his furry butt into my lap like he was already mine. he purred, and purred, and purred like i’d just given him the best pets of his life. his golden eyes looked into mine and that was it. i was done. there was no way i could leave this little guy outside that store to starve again.
so i picked him up brought him into my car, and drove home. i snuck him in at first, since i doubted my grandparents would want him inside. i brought him some food, and at the worst possible moment, my grandpa came rolling in in his noisy-ass wheelchair.
he didn’t say much at first, then just told me to bathe him when he was done eating. so i wiped him down w/ a wet washcloth when he finished. soon after that, my grandma comes strolling in and gasps when she sees him. that almost fuckin broke me right there.
i broke down, and asked her the same question i asked y’all at the beginning. we both cried a little, and hugged. (with me still holding the then-nameless Cheeseball) she decided to let me keep him, after seeing how much i loved this little shit already.
i thanked her, then went into my room and started typing this. i thought of the name Cheeseball as i was typing this. (how creative)
right now, as i’m still typing this, he’s curled up into a little ball in one of my blankets. and he’s still purring. he’s just so goddamn happy to have a home, food, and someone to love and pet him.
fuck, i’m getting emotional. i’d better stop before i break down at the keyboard. anyway, that’s the story of Cheeseball. nyoom.