The Cat Sitter, Page 2

  When I walked in it was so loud from the dogs barking in the kennels and the cats meowing in their cages. It was cold inside and there was an overpowering stench of urine. The walls were in desperate need of a paint job as I found it quite dreary inside. I walked up to the reception desk where the woman working there was far from friendly. She made me feel as though I was bothering her. She kept me waiting for a couple of minutes as she continued to furiously text away. I cleared my throat in an attempt to get her attention. She glared up at me as if I had taken her away from something vitally important.

  “I’m here to look for my aunt’s cat. He’s been missing for most of the day and I’m afraid that he may have ran outside and got lost.”

  “Do you have a picture of the cat or any other information?” “Yes. He’s a black cat and his name is Bruno.”

  “And?” she asked in a rather snarky tone.

  “And what?” I asked

  “What type of cat is he? Has he been microchipped? Was he wearing a collar? Anything else you can tell me about his appearance? How old would he be? We get a lot of cats in here and you’re really not helping.”

  “I don’t know. He’s not my cat.” I replied.

  She sneered at me before calling over one of the volunteers over the intercom to take me to the back to look for Bruno. Thankfully he was much more pleasant than Nurse Ratched up at the front desk. I thought people who worked with animals were supposed to be, you know, nice.

  He brought me to the back room where they kept all of the cats that had been brought in as strays. There were so many cages all filled with lost or abandoned cats. For a guy who didn’t like cats, I couldn’t help but feel a little sad for these poor souls. I slowly walked past the cages peering inside hoping to see Bruno’s pudgy face staring back at me.

  The longer I walked around examining the cats in each cage, the more disheartened I became. I was frustrated because I couldn’t find Bruno and the sight of these hopeless looking cats was starting to take its toll on me. Some of the cats and were in pretty rough shape with matted fur and scratches all over their face and other defects. Quite a few looked rather sickly and didn’t look like they long for this world. And then I saw a mother cat and her babies. They were feeding as I peeked into their cage.

  “What’s their story?” I asked the volunteer.

  “The kittens were left here overnight in a cardboard box. It was bitter cold and I’m surprised that they survived. Would you like to hold one” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t really like…” and before I could finish my sentence, this tiny ball of fun was in my arms. She looked up at me and tried to meow but no sounds came out. She was just a baby. She was so soft and so sweet. I gently handed the kitten back to the volunteer.

  “That’s not their mother by the way. This is another cat who just had her own kittens. Some of them will make out while others……” his voice started to trail off as he got choked up. That seemed to be my cue to leave.

  “Well you have the picture of Bruno and my contact information. If he turns up here, please call me as soon as possible”.

  “Absolutely. Good luck. Hope you find him” he replied as he knelt down to comfort a cat who was meowing loudly and pushing her paws through the cage.

  I left the shelter feeling incredibly sad and humbled. I almost think that Bruno went missing on purpose. It was if though it was his way of teaching me a lesson about gaining a greater appreciation for animals. I was the Ebenezer Scrooge in his feline “A Christmas Carol”, only there was no Tiny Tim, just a Fat Bruno. Well it worked Bruno. I teared up. Are you happy?

  Chapter Seven: The Lion Sleeps Tonight

  When I got back from the shelter, I cruised around the neighbourhood one last time before heading inside. I looked everywhere for Bruno in the house calling out his name repeatedly. But he wasn’t there. I was going to have to break the terrible news to my aunt and accept my fate. I was not looking forward to tomorrow. I had no idea how she’d react. Would she yell? Would she cry? Would she hit me? Ugh. It was going to be another long, sleepless night for me.

  Bruno’s food dish and water bowl remained untouched as did the litter box. The experience at the shelter had deeply affected me but not to the point where I loved animals and was going to soddenly adopt a ton of cats. I did feel bad for Bruno and worried about him being alone, cold, hungry, and scared. He had it pretty good compared to the cats at the shelter. I don’t think he’d be able to survive for very long in the elements and with all of the dangers both human and animal that lurked outdoors.

  I found myself feeling kind of emotional. He’s just a cat I kept reminding myself. And one that I didn’t like nor did he like me. I think my weepy state was the culmination of guilt, frustration, fear, and exhaustion. I had barely eaten all day having only had a couple of slices of toast and some coffee.

  I rehearsed what I was going to tell my aunt over and over again in my head. I thought up a number of different scenarios, some believable and others outlandish to explain Bruno’s disappearance. Eventually I decided that I would just tell her the truth. It was an accident and there was no malice behind his disappearance on my part. Sure we had become mortal enemies over the past couple of years but I didn’t want to see any harm come to him. And I highly doubted that a silly, overweight housecat would have a vendetta against me. I probably could have and should have been nicer to him. I was a bit of a jerk to him anytime we were around each other.

  Feeling light-headed, I laid down on the couch and closed my eyes for a few minutes which quickly became a few hours. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep in my clothes. It was a deep, heavy sleep devoid of dreams or thoughts. I was so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, that I collapsed on the couch and fell asleep instantly. I slept without a blanket and rested my head on a single sofa pillow. It wasn’t comfortable, but with the fatigue I was dealing with, I could’ve slept on the floor if I had to.

  I had slept straight through the night. It was about 10 o’clock in the morning when I was jolted out of my sleep by the sound of car doors slamming. Oh no! My mom and aunt were home. What was I going to do?

  “Bruno! Bruno!” I shouted a few times out of sheer desperation.

  I heard the voices getting closer and closer to the front door as I watched helplessly as the locks were opened. In walked my mom and aunt who immediately asked, “Where’s my Bruno?”

 

  Chapter Eight: Mr. Mistoffelees

  I took a deep breath and then said, “Aunt Babs, about Bruno, he…..” when a black flash whizzed right by me. It was Bruno! He jumped, well tried to jump but had to be picked up, into my aunt’s arms. He immediately started purring and nuzzling against her.

  “Oh you’re so nice and warm. You must’ve been hiding in the linen closet again.”

  “Linen closet?” I asked.

  “Yes, he loves it in there. He will spend hours upon hours in there. He won’t even come out to eat or to visit me. It’s like his own personal home away from home. You just adore your little penthouse don’t you Bruno?”

  So this cat that I had been frantically searching for the past couple of days had been in the linen closet this entire time? While I was running around, worried sick, he was lounging around amongst the towels and bedding. He heard me calling and he didn’t budge or bother to let me know here he was? Sure I hadn’t been the nicest guy in the world to him, but this cat had just played me like a fiddle.

  My aunt then put Bruno down on the floor and he started to rub up against my legs and purr. His tail was pointing straight up in the air as he looked up at me with a smug look on his portly face.

  “Aww, look who became best friends while I was gone” my aunt remarked.

  Well played Bruno I thought to myself. Well played.

  The End

 
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