The Good Stray

*** Based on a true story***

The Good Stray

I saved the orange and white tabby that came slinking to my door. His sad, scrawny form with the abscess on his side begged for food. I gave him some raw meat I had thawing for dinner, and decided if he made it through the weekend, he would be officially ours and we would take him to the vet to have him neutered, vaccinated and treated as needed to get him back to healthy. Even if he ran off afterwards, at least he wouldn’t be creating more kittens or spreading sickness.

Little did we know what we were welcoming into our lives. No good deed goes unpunished.

So he survived the weekend and hung out by the house. Come Monday, we called to make his appointment with the veterinarian. They took him in that afternoon and we brought him back home in a couple of days. He had been neutered, his abscess treated and he was gaining weight. I could finally let my daughter interact with him. She had been dying to pet him all weekend. Now she had to pick a name. We warned her that he may not want to play or live here.

He did.

So, Meow Meow became the best cat for our daughter, though he lived outdoors. She could do anything with that stray cat, from picking him up and hauling him around, swinging in her small arms, to dressing him up and taking him for a ride in the stroller she had recently outgrown. But he wasn’t as fond of us, the adults in his house. He liked to lay by us on the porch, but far enough out of reach to avoid any chance we might touch him. He did like beer, though, as we discovered him eagerly licking the top of a can my husband had set on the ground.

Anyway, after a month or so, when he had blossomed back to health and decided he lived here permanently, I went into the garage through the back door. I stepped inside, closing the door behind me, but my hand remained on the knob as I stared in stunned disbelief at the cat flying crazily around the garage, bouncing off walls and hay bales. I finally came to my senses enough to partially open the door behind me, but I wasn’t about to take my eyes off the yellow streak of craziness before me. He saw his chance for escape and came flying toward me. I thought he was going to claw my eyes out, but he hit the floor and scooted out the door between my legs instead. Still shaken from my near blinding experience, I went back to the house and reported the incident to my husband.

Later that day, he came sauntering into the yard. All appeared to be back to normal, and our daughter played normally with him. I was apprehensive, but gave in to her insistence. He was good as gold.

Our neighbor called over the winter about finding our cat on top of the woodpile in her shed. She conveyed that he hissed mightily and ran off.

Our cat came back the next day, again normal and as good as gold.

In the spring, my husband found the skull of a cat in the woods, along with a tuft of orange hair. Meow Meow was still healthy and living comfortably with us. There were never any more sightings of the evil cat.

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This was written in response to James and Oneg's Original Summer Extravaganza Challenge, which you can read about below:

I was tagged by Judey Kalchik to join in - I typically don’t write Horror.