Sometime the next morning, I woke up to an adolescent Siamese she-cat wrapped around me with her head tucked into my stomach.
Ugh. Seriously, what was it about me that other cats found so fascinating? Did they realize I was actually not a cat and therefore wanted to know about me?
“Hey,” I protested sleepily. “Get off!”
She blinked at me but didn’t move.
“Fine. Then I’ll go.” Grumbling under my breath, I scooted away, then jumped to my feet. It looked like the various shops around the mall were beginning to open for business. Since the cat-prison was still dark and void of any humans, I jumped to the floor and ambled over to look out the big, glass windows facing the mall.
Ah. All a bunch of oldies, power walking. It was still early.
My stomach rumbled just as my bladder squeezed. Oh, no, no, no. Not now. Not ever. I’d been ignoring the water dish for this very reason. Well, that and I really didn’t want to drink water from a communal trough with all these other animals.
But I couldn’t wait any longer. I’d hoped to wait until Bay got back here so I could try to sneak into the human bathroom. But if I didn’t go soon, I risked soiling myself again. No way would I sit in my own filth again, even if it meant…
I walked slowly, my feet dragging across the carpet. My toe beans ached from the friction. They weren’t used to such rough treatment. But despite the torture to my tootsies, I made it to the large structure that held all the cat boxes. It was some handmade, multi-level thing so that there were enough boxes to go around for all the cats in here.
The problem was that every single box had already been used more than once. By waiting, I’d ensured my experience would be a stinky one.
But what choice did I have? The humans’ bathroom door was firmly shut, and the handle was smooth and round. I’d already eyeballed it to see if I could get it open myself. No such luck.
Okay. I could do this. I jumped to the top level to inspect those boxes, but they seemed to be the most popular. Ugh. There wasn’t even a spot to put my paws.
The next level down was hardly any better. However, the one just above ground level hadn’t been used quite as much. I found a relatively unsoiled corner of the plastic box and balanced myself very, very carefully on the rim. If I didn’t slip off, I could do this without ever setting my paw actually on the litter.
Thirty seconds later, my bladder sighed in relief, and I jumped down. I hadn’t covered my pee by digging around after myself, but I’m sure some other cat would be happy to be do the job for me.
Sure enough, a fat tabby rushed past me and into the same cubby I’d just left. I stopped and turned, watching as he scratched around and covered my bathroom evidence for me.
I shuddered and forced myself to turn away. So gross.
The lights came on suddenly, and I darted for the desk, startled by the intense glare after so many hours of dim stillness. Peeking out from under the leg area, I watched Bay come in and greet everyone.
“Good morning babies,” she chirped. “How did everyone do last night? Any cat fights?” As she giggled at her own joke and set down her things, the others swarmed her, begging to be petted.
I stayed put while she cooed over them and scratched the backs of a dozen or so ears.
“I know you’re hungry,” she said. “Let me open the doors and clean the boxes, and I’ll feed you all.”
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I had opted out of eating dinner last night. Brown mush wasn’t my idea of a good meal.
Hunkering down, I watched some humans come in and begin to look at all the cats vying for their attention as Bay cleaned out the poo boxes. At least there was some satisfaction in knowing that she had to empty what I’d done in them. Not enough satisfaction to make me want to do it again, but it helped in the moment.
Bay took so long at her task that my attention began to wander, and I got sleepy. I’d begun to suspect the reason cats slept so much was boredom. I mean, what else was there to do once basic needs were met?
“Hey!” I yelped when I was yanked out from my hidey-hole under the desk. “Put me down!”
A youngish boy had found me. “Mom, this one is so pretty!”
Thankfully, Bay walked by with a bag of litter in hand, pausing to shake her head at my captor. “Sorry, he’s not up for adoption. He’s one of our permanent residents.”
“Why?” the woman said. “We want him.”
Want me? They didn’t even know me!
“I’m not actually sure.” Bay furrowed her brow at me as she shifted the massive bag of litter. “One of our board members brought him in and said he was absolutely, under no circumstances to be adopted. And, well, she’s the boss. I just run the place.” She winked and moved back toward the litter boxes.
The kid kept a tight hold of me under the armpits as he watched her walk away.
Looked like we’d be doing this the hard way. I growled and thrashed, meeting his gaze and trying to tell him with my eyes that I did not want to be held by the likes of him.
He got the picture and dropped me. Finally.
The desk wasn’t a good enough hiding place. At least most adults picked me up gingerly. The kids were rough. It was time to find something higher up.
Enough was enough. I wasn’t putting up with this crap any longer than I had to. I’d narc all day long if it got me out of this mess. Kaye would be back for me, right? She’d come back soon to save me from this insanity. She had to.
All the cats congregated around Bay as she opened can after can of food and put them in the dishes lining the wall behind her desk. “You can watch, but please don’t touch as the kitties eat,” she announced to the lingering humans cheerily.
Wow. Did she ever get irritated? I didn’t think so.
While all the cats were otherwise engaged, I decided to take advantage of the empty seating. In a series of swift maneuvers, I launched myself up and up and up. Yesterday, a gray cat had occupied the topmost shelf for the entire day.
But today, it would be mine, all mine. If Mr. Gray didn’t like it, he could fight me for it. I’d show that cat who’s boss. I’d do whatever it took to avoid getting man-handled by some kid again.
Oh, why had I turned Kaye away when she was my only chance at freedom before the three years were up?
“Bad kitty,” I chided myself, then curled up and tried my best to sleep despite the hunger gnawing at my gut.