Man's BETTER FRIEND

Hi everyone, enjoy this story about a new cat owner learning the ropes! This story is partially inspired by my childhood as a cat owner. Enjoy!

Mans BETTER FRIEND

A dog, mans ‘best friend’, well my best friend must be french fries then.

I do not have any pets, they say that you can only be a dog person, the ‘supreme pet’, but miraculously, those loyal rats are a bad luck charm.

Golden Retriever, mine was a Participation award Retriever, Behavior isn't their thing.

Great Dane, More like Great, Did you really have to chew up my new couch?

Dachshund, that hot dog might have found its way out of the toilet bowl. (Hopefully)

As you can tell, don’t even say the word in front of me. 

Being majorly shy, I had no friends, although I was doing fine financially, my mental health sure wasn’t, unless you count binging netflix as good for you. As soon as I moved out, I’ve been alone since 2021. My apartment was small, and the food in my fridge was smaller, it was fast food or starve for me, salad was way too pricey. With no friends, outside was literally a myth, fairytale, and the definition of fiction.

My aunt had decided to give one of her tabby cats to me, it was the runt of the litter, a shy one too. I had finished binging everything available on netflix by now, so I had nothing better to do. Although I recommended for her to give it to someone more professional, my aunt insisted and I agreed reluctantly.

Dropping off a carrier, litter box, and cat food, my aunt left me with an instruction sheet, in of course, illegible handwriting. Hieroglyphics are 3 letter words compared to her intricate squiggles. I took a deep breath as I inched near the carrier timidly, regret on the tip of my tongue.

Unzipping the carrier, I spied the smallest orange tabby, its amber eyes too big for its body. It was tucked to the back left corner, the small carrier was a mansion compared to that kitten. I noticed the paw shaped snacks tucked into the bag that her pupils were peering at in agony. I baffled out a few treats, leaving it on the area in front of it. 

At that moment I felt it, Pet Rush, we called it.

Me and my sister would brawl over our hamsters' love. Even though it died in 3 months from our nagging, that competition had been won by my mother, or should I say dominated, who had not even lifted a finger for it. The hamster would trot over to my mother as my sister and I bickered. I guess some animals can be introverts.

I scrambled to think of a name, not cringe like ‘Whiskers’ or ‘Snowball’ . I noticed the slight tint of brown in her fur, not a redhead. A spicy brown, not a dusty shade, more like… Cinnamon. That's a pretty good name I guess. 

As Cinnamon sniffed every corner of my apartment, she sauntered off to the couch, not clawing, but gripping the gray fabric. She struggled like it was her first time at the gym, clueless on how to use the medieval torture devices, and barely lifting a pound

I silently walked over, like hiding from an intruder, I gently hoisted her up, first shuddering by my hands' sudden appearance, then allowing my help, then rushing off to the other side of the couch, hiding behind a white pillow. Her fur was soft like velvet blankets.

Noting cats were considered lazy nappers, I thought of this as a piece of cake, until Cinnamon had some type of crazy catnip calamity, although I had not fed her anything but her food, she had seemed like me after drinking 3 red bulls. 

I had been smiling too much, hopefully that won’t leave any marks behind when I’m older!

She ran around the house chasing a glue stick cap for basically the whole night.

I was expecting to pick up toys at petsmart, but over the days, Cinnamon had proven to find fun by pouncing and rushing at any inanimate objects, the ones that moved were even funner. 

I attempted to play with her, she seemed shy but still in for the fun. Day after day, our relationship grew with rapid speed, Cinnamon had opened up to her comfort toward me as well, which was the last thing I expected.

After a sweaty cat gym session, I sat down on the couch to browse Netflix, for what was the 4th… 6th, time, I had lost count. After I had picked out a movie I saw cinnamon approaching from the left side of the sofa.

Cinnamon leapt up to the couch, expecting a pounce attempt, I flinched hard, then calmed down. Her eyes were droopy, not her usual black boba eyes she slips in when pouncing on her toys. She tightly curled up in my lap, barely covering my thigh, she looked like a little pastry. 

She was warm and gentle, calmly sleeping through every jumpscare that appeared on the screen, she was handling that better than me! She had fallen serenely into sleep, like not even ten alarms could wake her, which is the same for us because my phone rings like no tomorrow.

I never knew what cats were like, but the stereotypes that were cleanly hammered in began to unscrew. I have to be clear with this, jokes aside, This is better than any other time before.

The End.

Hi readers! Thank you so much for reading “Man’s BETTER FRIEND” 

I’ve been a little busy with no time to post but I will more soon next week. Please read my other previous stories on my page if you liked this one! What’s your favorite pet, from your childhood or present time? Leave it in the comments below! Please like the story and I’ll make sure to upvote your comments. See you next week with another great story!