Cat Tales Issue #1 Page 13
“Okay, I’ll do whatever I can to get it. Then what?”
“Hide it. I or someone else will be in touch and will come get the key. You’ll keep living here. They’ll give him another one and we have to know if anything changes.”
“Okay,” said Francis.
They touched noses to say goodbye and Anthony sauntered off down the driveway.
Francis went back inside to see what George was doing and to sleep on that cozy bed some more.
The next two days passed in much the same way. Francis did the tail chasing trick and George laughed uproariously. He explored the computer equipment, paying special attentions to attacking the printer when it was in action. He pawed at the cursor on the screen when the little arrow moved. He played with his cat toys, ate his food, drank his water and used the cat box. Mostly though, he purred and purred. And slept on his bed or George’s lap.
His fur became cleaner and softer. His belly filled out nicely.
Then on the third day, George said, “We’re going on a little trip,” and stuck him in a blue plastic box with a soft pad in the bottom. There were holes, so he could talk to George. And he talked. And complained. And cried.
What was happening? Where was George taking him?
It was raining outside. And cold. George carried him to the car, opened it and set the box on a seat and closed the door. Francis shivered with fear.
He mewed again and again.
George got in the other side of the car.
“It’ll be okay kid,” he said.
There was a loud noise as the car turned on. Then they began to move. Francis could see out the window. They were moving away from the house. The house where he’d felt safe.
They drove down streets and he watched trees move past the car, their branches waving at him threateningly.
The car finally stopped in a barren looking place, covered with concrete.
George got out and shut his door. Was George going to leave him here? Didn’t he want to have Francis live with him?
George opened the other door, picked up the box and carried him into a building. Which smelled like fear and death. A cat screeched behind the closed doors off to his right. In this room there were two dogs. One of them was in a plastic box too. It was shaking with fear. The other dog was big and nervously pacing around.
George went to a table and talked to a woman. Then he set the box down on a couch, out of reach of the big dog, thankfully. But Francis didn’t trust the leash the dog was on. And he didn’t think his plastic box would be much protection from the dog. George sat down next to him and put a finger in through one of the holes.
Francis’ best choice was to try to be invisible. He huddled in a corner of the box and was absolutely silent.
“It’ll be okay, buddy,” said George.
Francis wasn’t sure whether to trust him. Was his mission worth this?
After several minutes of waiting, George picked up the box and they were escorted to another room. It was small and empty, but there had been dogs and other cats here before. Francis could smell them.
The door was closed and George opened the box and pulled Francis out. Francis grabbed on to the cushion, trying to hang on with his claws, but George got the cushion loose and returned it to the box. Francis was put on a cold, metal table. He sniffed around and was about to try to get back in the box, when the door opened.
A woman entered, wearing a long, white jacket.
“Well, who do we have here?” she asked, shaking George’s hand.
“He doesn’t have a name yet.”
“What a little cutie,” she said, holding out her finger for Francis to sniff.
Then she began petting him.
She rubbed his back, stroked his tail, felt each leg and his belly and well, everywhere. She looked into his eyes and ears using a long metal thing with a light on it. Then she took a comb and ran it through his fur and looked at the comb. She took a long tube with a metal thing on it and put it on his chest, while she held him in her arms.
“He looks like he’s a healthy little guy. A stray you said?”
“Yes, he just wandered in the cat door. Well, he sat on the outside of my window for a couple of days.”
The woman put him on a tippy metal thing and said, “He’s a little underweight.”
She pulled open Francis’ mouth and looked inside.
“He’s got fleas, but no ear mites, so that’s good. He probably has worms. Kittens commonly get worms from their mothers and she may have been a stray as well.”
George nodded.
The door opened and another woman came in, carry several pencil-like things.
The other woman held Francis while the first one put something wet on his hip and then poked him with one of the pencils.
It hurt, but mostly it surprised him. He’d been hurt worse by the cats where he used to beg for food.
Francis mewed.
Then two more jabs, not as surprising, but just as painful.
Then she pushed something up his rear end and held it there. He tried to get away, but couldn’t. George just stood there, a sad look on his face. Then it was over and they handed him back to George. Francis burrowed into his neck, shivering. He wanted to go back home.
“His temperature’s normal. This little guy is very healthy for a stray. So, he’s got his first shots done, one of those was for the worms.”
The woman put Francis back down on the table and petted him. Then she picked up a tube and squirted something wet on the back of his neck. He tried to lick it off, but couldn’t reach it.
“That’s for the fleas, it’ll last a month. But you’ll be back in a few weeks for the booster shots.”
George petted him and asked, “When does he need to be neutered?”
“At about 6 months. I’m guessing he’s about 2 months old now.”
George nodded.
“He really is a lovely kitten. He’ll have nice long fur when he gets older. You should start brushing him now, so he won’t get mats as an adult.”
George nodded.
“Do you have any questions?”
George said, “Not at the moment. I’ve never had a pet before. He’s quite entertaining.”
“Cats are wonderful. But this one’s still a baby. It’s important that you keep dangerous things out of his reach.”
“Dangerous things…”
“Poisonous plants, things he could eat that might make him sick, drugs, we have a brochure at the front desk.”
“Okay, I’ll pick one up.”
“Also, when people adopt from the animal shelters, they recommend adopting two cats at once, cats that get along if they’re adults. Kittens are more adaptable. They keep each other company.”
“So you think I should get another kitten?” asked George.
“I think this little guy might like a playmate, for those times when you’re too busy to play.”
“Hm,” said George.
Francis was put back inside the plastic box and huddled in the corner. What would happen next.
George picked up the box and they went back out in the room with the two dogs. George talked to a woman there, then took Francis and his box out to the car and drove away.
“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” said George.
Francis didn’t say anything. He just huddled in the box.
George stopped the car and got out. He pulled the plastic box with Francis in it out and carried it into another building. Francis smelled a lot of dogs and cats. The air was mingled with fear and excitement.
He huddled farther into the corner of the box. What was happening?
George said to a man behind the counter, “I have a kitten here. I just took him to the vet and he’s got a clean bill of health. Just got his first shots and I’d like to find a friend for him. Another kitten.”
Francis considered the idea. What would his life be like with another cat? Would the other cat eat all his food? Or thwart his mission?
/> The man said, “We don’t usually do this. But we have an empty room. I suppose you could try one or two. Cats don’t usually get along first thing. Kittens are easier, so we’ll see. If you’ll follow me, I can show you the kittens we have right now. How old is yours?”
“The vet said he’s about 2 months old.”
“We’ve got quite a few kittens in our kitten room. You can put your carrier here,” said the man, “and go inside and see who you find.”
George set the carrier down and said, “You’ll be safe here, little buddy. I’m just going to find you a friend.”
Francis meowed at him and watched George go into a room that had a door on the bottom and an open window on the top. The other man went back to the counter. He could see George walking around, looking at the floor and then on a tower where kittens wrestled and chased each other. Francis remembered playing with his brothers and sister. Before he’d wandered off. And when he came back they had all been gone.
A black and white cat jumped up on the counter where his box sat. She peered inside and he backed away, hissing at her.
She sniffed and then began to bathe.
Francis watched George pick up an orange kitten who squeaked to him.
The man who talked to George before came back.
“I’d like to try this one,” said George.
“Okay, I’ll take her. This one’s Isabel. You can bring your carrier and we’ll go into this room.”
George picked up the carrier and followed the man into an empty room.
He closed the door and set the carrier on the floor and opened it. George took Francis out and cuddled him.
“I know it’s been a rough day for you. Thought you’d like to meet someone, see if you get along.” He set Francis on the floor on the other side of the room from the orange kitten.
Francis stared at her and she stared back. Then she arched her back, fluffed out her tail and did the sideways jumping thing his smallest brother used to do. Then she ran towards a ledge on the wall, trying to get him to chase her.
He couldn’t help himself. He chased her and jumped on the ledge after her. She turned around and slapped at him. He stopped abruptly, unsure, and she jumped on him. They rolled off the ledge onto the floor and wrestled a bit, then she ran again and he chased her. Then he tripped over a ball and chased that for a while.
“I think they’ll get along just fine,” said the man.
“Why does she have such big feet?” asked George.
“She’s a polydactyl. She has an extra toe on each foot.”
“Really?” asked George. He picked her up and looked at her feet as she squirmed. “Well, I’ll be,” he said. He put her down and she tackled Francis.
They rolled around on the floor while George wrote on pieces of paper.
Francis felt more relaxed. He liked this other kitten. She didn’t threaten him. He just hoped she wouldn’t eat all his food.
George put Francis back in the box. He lay down in one end of the box again. Then George put Isabel inside as well. She curled up next to him and fell asleep. He felt surprised that she was so relaxed. He felt nervous. What would happen next?
George took them outside and put them on the car seat. Then he got in the other side and said, “Well kids, we’re going home. Guess I’ll have to get another bowl. On another day though. I’ve got work to do.”
A few minutes later the car pulled up in the driveway. George got out and took the box out, carrying it into the house and set it on the floor and opened the door. Francis came out and meowed. He was home again.
Francis showed Isabel the cat box. And then he sat by the food bowl, waiting as George put things away. The bowl sat empty. He’d licked it completely clean. He’d never ever leave food again. Not after his starving early life.
George’s phone rang and he answered it.
“Oh hi. Yeah, I’m catching a plane on the third. Sure, I’d love to meet for dinner.”
Isabel chased George around the house. It was funny to watch the big man prance around trying not to step on her. He had a tie thing on his shoe that she kept attacking.
Francis meowed plaintively. He was hungry. And he was sore from where the woman had jabbed his hind leg. But he couldn’t lick it. She put something on his skin and fur to clean the blood away that tasted awful.
George finished his conversation and put the phone down on the table. Which was covered with books and papers and boxes. Francis wondered how George would find the phone again. His entire house was covered with stuff. Were all humans like this? And how could Francis possibly accomplish his mission? He would never find the card.
Eventually George came back into the kitchen. Francis meowed at him and George picked up the empty bowl and got another bowl out of the cupboard. He filled them with canned cat food and set them down on the floor. Then cleaned the water bowl and refilled it.
Francis nearly inhaled his entire bowl in one gulp. He felt so hungry and upset. Isabel daintily ate beside him. He finished long before her. And stepped back and began to bathe. George had left the room and was sitting at his computer.
Francis rubbed around his feet and George picked him up and put him on his lap, petting his fur.
“Well, buddy, how do you like the new girl?”
Francis meowed out his frustration at the day’s event. He wasn’t sure if he liked her or not. She was entertaining. And she didn’t seem threatening. But he didn’t trust her. Not yet at least.
“I still think you’re the awesomest cat that ever lived. Thanks for choosing me,” said George looking into his eyes.
Francis began purring and curled up on George’s lap, watching him work on the computer.
George typed and typed in letters and numbers. Francis couldn’t remember them, there were too many. Then after an hour or so, George seemed to tire of it and began to look at photos of cats with lots of writing beside them.
Then George typed some more and said, “I need to find a cat sitter for you two. I’m going away next week. Just for a few days. But I’m sure you’ll want to eat. And have your cat box cleaned.”
Francis meowed. Where was George going? That meant he needed to find the card. Soon. What if George was planning on taking the card with him? He needed to talk to Anthony.
He could hear Isabel chasing the jingly cat ball around in the dining room. Then she slept a bit on a chair. Then she woke and began meowing, walking from room to room, looking for him.
Francis meowed at her and jumped down from George’s lap.
“I was afraid you were gone,” she said. “Other cats disappeared from the shelter all the time.”
She touched noses with him.
“I’m here. I was just spending time with George,” he said.
She rubbed up against him and said, “Play with me?”
They played chase for a while, racing around and under the furniture. Taking turns chasing. Then they rolled around on the floor, kicking and biting. She was strong for her size.
When they both collapsed he said, “We’ve got a job to do.”
“Really?” she asked.
“It’s very important. It’s about furthering PURR’s mission statement?”
He explained about PURR. She’d never heard about it. Her mother hadn’t told her and Isabel had been brought to the shelter as soon as she was weaned. She hadn’t a chance to learn about PURR.
Francis said, “George has a very, very important card. He’s going to use it next week. He’ll be going on a trip to use it. We need to steal the card. So we’ll have to keep an eye on him at all times. It’s good there’s two of us, because one of us needs to watch him at all times.”
“When he’s awake, you mean,” she said.
“Yes, he’s not likely to be pulling the card out when he’s asleep.”
“Okay, I’m ready to help. Do you know what the card does?”
“I’ve just been told that seven humans have them and they control the internet. The humans all live in differ
ent places in the world. PURR has copies of two already. We need the other five.”
“Then what?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Computers aren’t my thing. Apparently, human manipulation is my part in this.”
They went into the office and Francis jumped up onto the bed and meowed at Isabel. She jumped up too and they bathed each other and curled up in a ball.
But Francis had his attention focused on George as Isabel slept. He had first watch.
George looked at them and smiled. He picked up his phone and began taking photos of them. That was good Francis had been told. He’d felt relieved when Anthony told him that George likely had another copy of the key. He didn’t want to cause any trouble for George. He really liked George.
They took turns watching him for the next five days. Nothing out of the ordinary happened.
Except that George began cleaning his house when he wasn’t working at the computer. Piles of magazines disappeared into the recycling bin. He left the house and brought home boxes of shelving and put together bookcases. Then books got stacked on them. The piles of dirty dishes became clean ones and got placed in the cupboards. Heaps of laundry got washed and put away. The house became much more pleasant to smell. One day, George got out the vacuum.
Isabel was afraid and hid in the back of the closet. Francis sat on the dining room table and watched, curiously. He didn’t like the noise and the smell of the machine, but he wasn’t afraid of it.
The next day Francis noticed that George put on clean clothes. Instead of his baggy sweats, George squeezed into jeans and a baggy T-shirt. And put shoes on, instead of his old flip-flops.
A woman came to the front door and George answered it.
“Hi, I’m Judith.”
“Hi Judith, come on in,” said George.
George closed the door after her and said, “I’m glad you could come.”
“So, you’re leaving Thursday?”
“Yeah. I’ll be gone till the following Thursday,” he said.
“I usually come twice a day. Feed, water and pet everybody. And play with them. Change the litter box. And collect mail and newspapers.”
“Good. I’ll show you where the food is. This is the male kitten. I’ve been trying to find just the right name for him, but it hasn’t come to me yet. I’m up to the E’s in the baby name book. And this is Isabel. She came with a name.”