Kit

Kit

 

 

 

 

I love kittens. I love them a lot. But I just can’t get one yet after what happened with one of the kittens we had when I was younger. My mom brought him home one day out of the blue and said he was a gift to me for something. I don’t know, grades or behavior, something like that. Anyways, I loved him, and just thought he was great. I ended up naming him Kit. We use to make jokes about his name and call him “kit cat”. It was a funny name to give him like that after all.

He was a small gray kitten with half of his face was white and then the tip of his tail was black. A very odd looking kitten. But cool and cute all the same. He slept in my room every night with my door closed so he couldn’t escape. I loved him to death. I fed him and played with him and cleaned up after him and everything.

Though a few weeks later, one night while we were in my room sleeping, I heard a weird noise that woke me up. I sat up and looked down at the end of the bed where the cat was. He was sitting there looking at me talking away. I closed my eyes again and laid back down thinking nothing of it. I sat up quickly realizing my kitten was talking.

I thought I was dreaming all this until Kit jumped up and pounced on my arm, leaving a couple small and painful scratches where he hit. “Ow! What did you do that for?” I asked him. “I just wanted to play, I’m sorry.” He said looking pitiful in a cute way. All I could do was plop back down and go bad to sleep for the night. I didn’t know what to think so I slept till morning.

The next morning I was awakened by a very cold nose on my bare back. “Wake up sleepyhead! I’m hungry!” He whined. “Jeez you’re pushy.” I said back to him. I got dressed and headed downstairs to the kitchen. He followed behind me quickly, almost tripping me on the stairs.

It was a Saturday and normally my mom had to wake me up half past noon. But this morning since Kit rudely woke me up way early, she was surprised to see me walk into the kitchen. “Honey, you feeling ok? You’re up awfully early considering it’s Saturday. Everything alright?” Yeah, she sounded more worried than anything. “Yeah, I’m fine, still a little tired though.” “Then why did you get up?” “Well, Kit woke me up with a cold nose and told me he was hungry with a whine.” I told her.

“Kit told you this?” she said slowly. “Yeah, why?” “Kit…TOLD…you this?” she said again, but with more confused tones. “Yes!” “Ok…Are you sure your feeling ok then?” she said. She looked at me in a strange and disturbing way. “Cats don’t talk…..” she finally said.

“Well, this one does! Here, watch this: Kit! Speak!” We both stared at Kit, but he said nothing to us, just stared up curiously with his big light blue eyes. “Come on Kit! Say something!” I yelled. All he did was purr and made a loud and high pitched “meow”. I was mad and embarrassed. My mom was just puzzled at me thinking my kitten could talk. Then she got mad for it and grounded me for lying and making up stories.

I grabbed him by the skin on the back of the neck and took him to my room with me. I threw him on the bed and shut my door. I went over and knelt to the side of the bed and glared at him. “Why didn’t you tell her! You got me into trouble for this.” I told him. “I was too afraid to.” he whimpered back. “Why though? It isn’t too hard to say hi and then run off for a bit is it?” I said. “I was too shy. I like you. You feed me and play with me and do everything I love. All she ever did was put me in a dark box and then gave me to you.”

There wasn’t much I could say to that. I was the one always there for him. All she did do was bring him to me. But still, I couldn’t just live with him talking to me and everyone thinking I’m crazy for it. But I knew eventually someone would find out too. I mean hey, come on, a talking cat? It couldn’t stay a secret forever…..

Weeks went by and Kit started to grow bigger and his fur became softer and shinier. He also became more talkative on anything he could talk about. But still I was loving him more and more. Animals are great for when no ones around with you, but you cant normally have a conversation with them too. And he was smart, always learning from what he secretly heard. He was the best pet ever.

The only problem still was that my mom was getting very mad about my supposed “lying” on how my cat could talk. She would get mad at me for saying and I was stupid enough to keep telling her about when he talks. After a while I told her on purpose so maybe she would start to think I was telling the truth. But no, of course not. She never did think that.

I was always grounded for that and she even put me in counseling and got so many mental tests done on me. They found nothing and the counselor said I was fine. So Kit kept on talking and I kept on telling and she kept on grounding. It was getting old but since I couldn’t prove it still and she wouldn’t believe me I just had to deal with it. It was the price I had to pay to own my precious Kit cat.

Months later of grounding and psychological tests, I got really mad at Kit one morning for something he had did and locked him in my room instead of letting him out before I went to school. I left and didn’t think anything of it. Well he cried and cried at the door yelling and asking to come out and saying he was sorry and a few words after that he shouldn’t have learned.

When my mom came home around eleven AM or so she heard someone talking in my room and thought that was strange. She wondered why I wasn’t already gone and in school. So she went up to my room to get me and yell at me and take me to school. She heard someone yelling, “Let me out! Let me out! She opened the door saying “why aren’t you in school? Your in trouble for this.” She looked around to see I wasn’t even there after all. She was confused by why she heard talking. Then she looked down and saw Kit sitting there wagging his tail.

“Thank you so mu…I mean, meow?” Kit said. He was busted, finally caught. “You really can talk Kit! He was right after all! And I punished him so much for this.” She made a sour face thinking about her actions.

By the time I had gotten home I found them together on a chair in the living room, Kit sitting on her lap. They had become almost like best friends by then. She explained how she had caught him in my room telling anyone how much he wanted out and she found him talking there. She was over apologetic with me and even gave me one hundred dollars for some reason. Money wouldn’t buy her forgiveness, but it couldn’t hurt.

So Kit lived with us for years and years later and now he is old and raised many kittens. I’m on my own now too with him. And like I said in the beginning, I won’t get another cat yet because of him. But its not because he was too much to handle, it’s because we kept those kittens…all seven of them. And they never shut up…..