Blood In The Water

30

"M'home, Budino" James called out to his otherwise empty house

The cat came running to the door to greet him, in response

"Missed me, ey?" James chuckled under his breath, hanging his suit jacket up on the hook by the door as the cat rubbed her forehead against his calf

He went straight for a bottle of bourbon as he entered the kitchen, pouring himself a large glass. He'd earned it. Though he wouldn't be drinking completely alone. The cat meowed loudly at his feet

"Mrroww yourself, what're you yellin' at me for?" He mimicked the animal's demanding chatter as he took his first sip, finally piecing it together "..oh, I know what you want. You didn't get your breakfast, did ya? You're starvin', poor thing. Ain't eaten all day... you ain't the only one."

James strolled to the cabinet and retrieved a can of cat food, peeling back the lid and setting it on the counter. His cat leapt onto the bar stool, and up to the counter to receive her meal, purring loudly as she ate.

He took a seat at the end of the counter, finally prepared to drown himself in his drink. Lazy swig after lazy swig, he was into his second glass by the time the cat finished her meal, strutting over to his end of the counter.

Suspenders hanging at his hips, his head held up on the counter with his hand, the cat continued the routine she had started when James returned home, pushing her face against his fist. He ignored her, deep in his own thoughts, until she began pushing past his hand and doing the same to his face. It wasn't until he received a nose to the corner of the eye, that he finally gave in and scratched her back, a slight smile at her pleas for attention. Hell, if nobody else in this world loved him, the cat sure did.

James had 'adopted' his cat, about four years ago. He found her in an alley, hidden behind a garbage can, after a fight he'd just barely walked away from. Though, he almost always wins, in the end.
Limping away from his now lifeless opponent, he was stopped by the high pitched mews of a lone kitten. Perhaps stupidly, he stopped his flee, crouched down, and called the cat over. After only a few seconds, the timid animal made his way over to James.

"Hey.. what're you doin' out here, Baby, it's fuckin' freezin." He spoke softly, looking around for the cat's mother. There was no parent or sibling to be found. And judging by the state of the animal, it was clearly a stray.

The cat adored him, immediately. Even if they were standing beside his casualty.

That night was supposed to be the coldest in years. A record since 1917. Everything was going to freeze over, there was no way he could leave the cat out in the streets in weather like that. He picked her up and he carried her home. He bathed her in the sink, cleaning her of all the dirt, bugs, and mud she'd collected on the streets. Though she wasn't happy with that one at all. Although James walked away the victor, having cleaned off the animal, he was left with quite a few scratches. Still, she let him dry her off with a kitchen towel. He didn't have any cat food in the house, he never had any animals. He fed her little pieces of the chicken he was having for dinner. But the next day, he stocked up on cans of cat food, and a new collar for her.

Having a pet was pretty exciting for him. He'd always wanted a dog, growing up, but his parents always refused. They didn't want anything else to take care of. Though he certainly could've used the companionship. Now, he finally had his pet. It only took two decades

Having something to come home to was surprisingly therapeutic for him. The house didn't feel quite so lonely anymore. And while he didn't have anybody to talk to, anybody to confide in, he could talk to the cat. Who was she going to tell? Maybe not as helpful as venting to a real person, but it was a step up from what he had. That cat's one of the only ones he can talk to.