“Alright! Let’s go!” I grunt and attempt to drag the kitty out. A long streak of scratch marks run from my living room floor boards to the door frame. He clings on as if his dear life is really up for grabs. “Crazy cat, I’m bringing you to the animal shelter to find you a new home!”
“MEOW~~~@@~#~!#@$@$@%@%” the feline grouchily fusses and digs his nails into the cherry wood. GREAT, another chunk of my non-existent paycheck.
“Come on! I researched the place; the shelter is a no-kill.” I grunt, “People like cats, alright? You will find a home really fast,” I try to persuade, lift my leg, and step down another step of the stairs. The length of this cat’s torso and the pure strength from that tiny being amazes me. “Do you have a gym membership or something?!?!!?”
“MEOWOEWEWEWEWWWWW~” he shrieks. Floor tenants swing open their doors to check out the business.
“She’s just playing violin again,” one of the neighbor’s son, a bratty 9 year old boy exclaims. I almost face palm and run back into my apartment out of embarrassment. Opening my mouth, I brainstorm a good counter attack because I’m petty af sometimes, okay?! But I didn’t know which is worse: admitting my musical talent is equivalent to a dying cat or admitting that there might, in fact, be a dying cat here, because I’m just seconds from strangling this crazy, stubborn monster.
“ARGH!” I groan, let go, and collapse against the welcome mat. I surrender, Oh my God, I surrender. My arms are sore, my legs are sore, my muscles are sore, my bones are sore. The kitty’s belly rest against my thigh and it’s fuming like a hot potato from all the energy he exerted. Huffing and puffing, I pick him up and head back into the house. Gently, or as gentle I could be in my state of fury, I place him against the cold stone kitchen counter so his body temperature could be brought down.
“Meow~…” the trouble maker purrs in jubilation while I claw at my hair.
Distaster! Distaster!!!! Pure Distaster. This is exactly why I keep my guard up because the moment I drop it, this happens. I let a crazy monster into my life and now he won’t go out.
“Chillax, Girl,” Lila laughs through the phone.
“I HATE CATS,” I repeat for the -umph time.
“I’ll be right there. Hehehe,” my friend’s voice fills with so much excitement and anticipation, I almost feel bad for her. Just wait until she sees how similar this feline is to the Devil’s spawn.
I glance around and eye the sleepy kitty. “Should I cover up for you?” I pat his behind and invite him to be my accomplice. It’s pure friendship betrayal but if it saves my white walls and pleather sofas… I begin to hide the scratch marks on my wooden floor by dragging my rug over to the spot.
“Meow?” the cat lifts his head up and narrows his eyes.
“I’M HERE! I’M HERE!!!” Lila hops up and down as she rings my doorbell. At a speed faster than light, I fling open my door.
“TADA! CAT! TAKE HIM. PLEASE!”
“OH MY GOD!!!!!” the bubbly cat lover squeals and rushes into the apartment. As if this is some drug dealing heist, I slam the door shut and check that all the blinds and curtains are down. With my heart sending excess blood through my system, I traipse my way behind Lila. My lower lip swells from my lip biting.
“What’s his name?!” she asks and gazes in awe. I swear, from her eyes, I almost think it’s a mystical unicorn in front of us and not a feisty cat.
“Uh…Kim JunMeow…” I say the first name that comes into my mind.