Cat Snips - a Short Story Collection by Cat Johnson

by Cat Johnson

  Her obsessive-compulsive nature battled over whether to unpack first or clean up. She opted for the cleaning and whizzed around like a maniac to get the place in decent shape before Max got home from work.

  Then she threw together a quick dinner, which she left on the burner on low to keep warm while she lit some candles.

  Since Max still wasn’t home, she was relieved she had time to unpack and do the laundry too.

  She was so busy, she didn’t notice until she finally sat down for a break exactly how late it had gotten. It was nearly ten. Now she started to worry. What if he was in an accident or something? No one would know to call her. She dialed his cell phone and got no answer.

  Frowning, she began to pace. What should she do now? She was about to get out the phonebook and start calling local emergency rooms when she heard his key in the door.

  “Hi. I’m so glad you’re home. I was worried.” She ran to him and hugged him.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know why you worry. You know I’m always working.”

  “I know. It’s just I couldn’t get you on your cell phone.”

  “It’s on, you must have dialed wrong.” He shrugged.

  She frowned. She didn’t think so. Whatever. “I made dinner. It’s on the stove.”

  “I ate, thanks. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” He kissed her on the forehead and headed for the bedroom.

  She wasn’t sure if she liked him better before, when he was unemployed and cranky but home all the time. Or now, employed and cranky but working all the time. She went into the kitchen, put the food away in the fridge, blew out the candles and crawled into bed beside him.

  She snuggled against his back. “I missed you.”

  “Missed you too.” The words were muffled by his pillow.

  “Do you want to…you know?” She ran her hand around his waist.

  “Now? It’s too late. Tomorrow.” He gave her hand a squeeze then pushed it away.

  She rolled over and punched her pillow into shape. The most touching she’d gotten in recent memory was from the masseuse. That was pretty sad. She apparently didn’t have to worry about Max not wanting to buy the cow because he was getting the milk for free, since he didn’t even seem to want the free milk in the first place.

  “Oh, by the way, I leave tomorrow for a trade show in Denver. I’ll be gone until Wednesday.” His voice came sleepily through the dark.

  And there went tomorrow night’s milk, down the drain.

  “Okay.” She sighed. “The laundry is done, so you have clean socks and underwear.”

  “Thanks, babe. You’re the best.” Then he started snoring.

  He hurt…again. Why was he always waking up in strange places and in pain? This time, however, was by far the worst. Not the pain, but the cause for it. He leaned down and licked the area in question. It tasted like alcohol. Damn them.

  By some miracle, he had survived a millennium, but now he wasn’t sure he wanted to live another day. He remembered being captured a few days ago. Then being stretched out on the operating table before the world went black. Oh, the do-gooders had a lovely word for it— neutered. Why didn’t they call it what it really was—castration.

  Damn them and damn the witch that did this to him.

  At least she was dead. He had watched her cottage burn to the ground with her in it. With Sebastian’s help, it had been easy enough to dump a sleeping herb into her broth pot one night. Then all they had to do was pull a burning stick from the hearth as she slept. They had been sure to get the other cats, who actually were cats, out before the blaze consumed the cottage and the sleeping witch with it. He had hoped that her death would reverse whatever spell she had put on them both. It hadn’t.

  Sebastian chose to stay and try to find his family.

  Living as a cat amidst his own family was not a future he had wanted to explore. Especially since it seemed he was not only a cat, but also immortal. Poor Sebastian would have to watch his family die as he lived on forever.

  That wasn’t for him. Instead, he had bounced from city to city. A cat could eat well in a city and pick up quite a bit of interesting information. It was by listening inside a pub at a seaside village that he learned of the New World that had been discovered. A new world had sounded exactly right for his new life, and he hopped on the first ship bound for there. Cats were always welcome on ships back then. And as long as you had acquired a taste for rat, everything was fine.

  So here he was, in the New World, in a cage, and without his balls.

  He had accepted the fact long ago that he was no longer a man, but this—this was unacceptable. If he must live for eternity as a cat, he would at least like to do it intact. He peered through the bars of the cage angrily. With the quick slap of one paw, he overturned the bowl of food next to him. Did they really think he could eat at a time like this?

  He was still pouting when a pair of legs worthy of Playboy Magazine stopped right in front of his cage. He had learned a lot in his years as a cat. People left the most interesting things under their beds, including some very titillating magazines.

  These particular legs made him feel his recent loss even more keenly. He supposed he could at least try to be happy in his neutered condition if a woman with legs like hers adopted him. It would be far better than going home with one of those old ladies who collected cats. He’d lived with some of them in the past. Most of them were crazy as loons and their houses smelled. But this one, he could live forever just watching her towel off after a shower. Mmm, mmm.

  Judging by her expensive looking leather shoes, she would definitely have more than just basic cable. He’d acquired a taste for cable TV over the last couple of decades. Ooo, maybe she’d have satellite. Even better.

  During his musings about his new life, she had started to coo at some kitten in one of the cages above him. Being neutered was bad enough, but he would not lose his new woman too. In an act of pure desperation, he reached out a paw and swatted her leg.

  Spinning around in a happy dance when she bent to peer at him, he watched a fall of long reddish-brown hair swing over her one shoulder. He purred loudly and rubbed his face against the bars of the cage, trying to look as cute as possible. She smiled and her green eyes lit up.

  “Hello, there. Aren’t you handsome.” She stuck a finger between two metal bars and rubbed the side of his face. She was good at rubbing and got just the right spot. He didn’t even have to pretend to purr now.

  Then she stood up and walked away. He reached out again and swiped, but missed her leg. Pressing his face up against the cage, he tried to see where she was going. His head and his hopes fell as she went out the door and let it slam shut behind her.

  Belinda walked to the front desk of the shelter and tried to quiet the voice in her head. Max didn’t like cats. It was a big responsibility owning a pet. If she adopted a cat, it would be alone all day while she was at work.

  But then she thought of all the nights and weekends she was home alone while Max was away. Wouldn’t a warm fuzzy body snuggled up in her lap make her feel better? It wasn’t exactly a substitute for sex, but since she hadn’t been getting a whole lot of that lately, she was grasping at anything right now. And that last cat she had looked at, she just felt a connection to him. He’d actually reached right out and picked her, rather than her picking him.

  The volunteer behind the desk looked up from her papers and smiled. “Can I help you?”

  Belinda smiled back, her decision made. “Yes. There’s a big black cat in the bottom cage. I’d like to adopt him, please.”

  Chapter Three

  “Hey, you want to come over tonight and hang out?” Belinda filled the cat bowl with food and water while cradling the phone on one shoulder.

  Donna hesitated. “Is Max home?”

  “No.” Belinda sighed. It was extremely trying that her friends didn’t like her boyfriend. “He’s away at a trade show…again. But there’s a new man in my life I’d like you to meet.”

&nbs
p; She smiled down at the black cat as he somehow managed to purr and eat at the same time.

  “Really? Who?” Donna sounded much too excited.

  “Relax, it’s just a cat I adopted. But I think I love him already. He’s so sweet.” As if on cue, he left his food bowl and came to rub against her legs again. Belinda hadn’t had someone’s undivided attention in a very long time. It was nice, even if it was only a cat.

  “I’d love to come over and meet him. I’ll call Grace and pick up a bottle of wine.”

  “Great, and I’ve got a pot of sauce on the stove and fresh pasta from the market down the street.” Belinda stepped over the cat to give the sauce a quick stir.

  Belinda ran a vacuum over the carpet and had just lit some candles and set the table when the doorbell rang.

  Her friends descended upon her apartment bearing wine and fresh filled cannolis. No wonder they had been friends forever. They enjoyed the same things.

  They sat down for a relaxed meal.

  Amidst a whirlwind of talking, laughing, drinking and eating, the man turned cat sat beneath the coffee table and just observed. It was times like this that made him realize the difference between men and women. Three men would eat and drink together, yes, but without all of this chatter. It was enough to give a person, or even a cat, a headache.

  Sure, in the old days, he had enjoyed sitting around a fire and sharing manly companionship. Sometimes they told tales of battle or even raunchy stories about women they’d bedded. Even more recently he’d enjoyed hiding in a pub, watching a game of sport on the TV. Sometimes the men would raise their voices in a cheer, if a specific play warranted it. But never did they all speak at the same time, and so quickly and loudly too.

  How did these women even listen to each other when they never shut up long enough? It was just like that talk show that one of his past owners loved. The one where these women sat around a table and just yelled at each other for an hour every morning. He had despised that hour.

  “I can’t believe you got a cat.”

  He was just pondering his hatred of that particular show and hoping this new owner was not a fan when he heard himself being referred to.

  “What’s Max going to say about it?” The one with dark curly hair named Grace was talking and looking at him with distinct distaste. Ah, not a cat lover, he could see that already.

  His woman shrugged. “He has nothing to say about it. It’s still my place, Max just happens to be living here right now. Besides, he’s away so much for work, he really can’t complain. He won’t be here enough for the cat to bother him, and I want the company while I’m alone.”

  He’d seen evidence of a man around, things like neckties and rather large shoes on the floor of the closet. He’d wondered where this man was, and tried not to feel jealous that his woman was with someone else.

  If he could have laughed at himself at that thought, he would have. After a thousand years, you think he would have stopped coveting female flesh, especially after his ‘neutering’. At that memory, he bent to lick himself again. The area was healing nicely, but it itched and was still shaved bald and ridiculous looking. It angered him every time he thought about it.

  “He is a beauty. The cat, I mean. I’ve never seen eyes so blue on a domestic shorthaired black cat before. You usually only find that eye color in a Siamese. So what are you going to name him?” the other woman asked. Donna, he thought her name was, the one with shorter straight hair who kept refilling everyone’s wine glass. Obviously, she knew her cats and had a keen appreciation for quality when she saw it.

  His woman shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Nothing seems to fit him. I’ve taken to calling him Black Cat for now.” He glanced up and saw her look over at him and smile. Embarrassed at being caught in his particularly compromising position, he quickly stopped licking himself.

  Cat-hating Grace raised an eyebrow. “I’m more interested about the comment that Max is just living here in your place for now. What about the ‘moving in together is one step closer to marriage’ theory of yours?”

  His woman took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. He watched her shapely breasts rise and fall, then brought his gaze back to her eyes, as green as cats’ eyes.

  “I’ve been rethinking that.”

  “The theory, or Max?” discriminating Donna asked.

  His woman rolled her eyes. “Listen, both of you. I know you never liked him. And don’t get all cocky, because I’m not admitting that you’re right. It’s just I don’t like myself when I’m with him. I’m insecure and uncertain. Uptight. Everything he accuses me of being. But that’s not really me.”

  Grace threw her hands in the air. “Exactly. That’s what we’ve been saying all along.” Perhaps he would consider giving Grace another chance, given she was on his side in getting rid of this man in his woman’s life.

  Donna nodded. “It’s not that we don’t like him. Well, okay, we don’t like him, but it’s because you’re different since you’ve been with him. I don’t think he’s the right guy for you.”

  His woman nodded and looked sad as she stared into her wine glass. He walked over and jumped into her lap, circled once, then lay down, purring. He looked up and saw her smile as she stroked him. He closed his eyes and imagined her stroking his human form.

  “At least I have you, huh, Black Cat.” She leaned down and kissed him. Her voice and breath in his ear made him shudder.

  Damn that witch to hell!

  Grace jumped up and grabbed her purse, which was big enough for two cats to live in with room to spare.

  “Now that we’ve decided to get rid of Max, let’s consult my spell book and see what we should curse him with.”

  His woman laughed and sent a vibration through him as he lay in her lap. “You’re carrying that witch book around with you now?”

  Grace pulled the book from the big bag. “No. I just brought it here tonight because you witches are my coven. So let’s see what we’ve got in here.”

  Donna got up from the table. “Good. I’ll put up the pot of coffee and get the cannoli while you figure out how to get me the money for that beach house and make Max’s penis fall off.”

  “Thanks, Donna. I’ve got my hands, or rather my lap, full at the moment. And I don’t want Max’s penis to fall off. I just want to find a man who loves me just the way I am and doesn’t make me feel inadequate. Is that too much to ask?” She leaned down and whispered the last sentence to him. He raised his head and rubbed her chin with the side of his face.

  “No problem,” Donna called back from the kitchen over the sound of the water running in the sink. “But I’d reconsider the penis thing if I were you.”

  He liked the sound of Max’s penis falling off too, particularly after what those cat ladies had just done to him. Misery loves company, as they say. Although, witchcraft had put him in this position and he wasn’t comfortable being around it again. Particularly since the book of spells was currently in Grace the cat-hater’s hands.

  They continued to read the spell book over coffee and dessert, and he realized he had nothing to worry about. They were just a bunch of slightly tipsy women fantasizing about being rich, finding love and cursing the men in their lives.

  For once he felt safer being a cat rather than a man. It seemed that over the years, women had become more assertive and hated men more with every passing century. It had all started back when women got the vote and had steadily gone downhill from there.

  He curled up in his woman’s lap, content for the first time in a long while. As he drifted off to sleep, he inhaled the distinctly female human scent of her. Visions of his human form and her naked one coursed through his brain and he had a feeling his dreams tonight wouldn’t be about mice.

  Chapter Four

  “What the fuck…”

  Belinda awoke with a start and heard Max’s voice in the dark, followed by a cat’s hiss.

  “Belinda! Did you get a damn cat?” He stomped into the bedroom and flipped on the lig
ht, blinding her.

  She blinked at him. “Yes. You didn’t step on him and hurt him, did you?”

  “Him? What about me? I nearly tripped and broke my neck in the dark.”

  “I can see you’re fine.” She bent to look under the bed for the cat. “He must be frightened to death. Poor thing. Here, Black Cat. Psss, psss, psss.”

  “Black Cat? You’re in advertising and that’s the best you can do? Real creative, Belinda.” He snorted and went into the bathroom.

  Belinda scowled, his comment grating on her nerves.

  There was something very wrong that she was far happier lately when Max was away. When he was home, he always somehow managed to make her feel like crap.

  Talking with her friends tonight about Max just seemed to solidify the nagging feeling of discontent that had been residing in the back of her brain for awhile now.

  She plopped down next to the bed on the carpet. A realization had just hit her. In the past, when Max was away, she was obsessed with the fact that he was around other women, including his assistant who traveled with him all the time. The insecurity and jealousy had nearly consumed her. But this trip, she hadn’t even thought about it. She was just relaxed and relieved that he was gone. What did that mean? Was she getting stronger, or did she just not care about him anymore?

  Hmm. She leaned against the bed and the cat came around the corner. Padding up to her, he jumped to put both paws on her shoulders and butt his head against her chin. She laughed, grabbed him and pulled him into her lap. “Perhaps I’ve fallen in love with you instead, my handsome Black Cat.” She whispered it, but the truth, the fact that she didn’t think she loved Max anymore, sounded loudly in her head.