With that tight body and gleaming emerald eyes, she was the babe of the neighborhood. Besides being the one with all the Toms trailing behind her tail, she had brains that kept her out of trouble. Her paw, once getting caught under my dad's '91 Chevy, learned that running cars are bad for your health. She was a tiny, sleek cat; a gift from my best friend in second grade. Unfortunately, she won the hatred of my allergic-to-animals mom and so she had to live outside most of the time. My family wasn't exactly rich and my dad thought it was stupid to take her to the vet after the $20 bill for her first rabie shot, so she never went to Dr. Jones again. I gave her the name Smiley, but my brother thought that was gay so we just ended up calling her Kitty. We lived in the country in that "big white house" everyone thought was a landmark in our town because it was always used to give directions like, "Turn right at the big white house", or "I'll meet you at the big white house", instead of, "I'll meet you at the Amaco gas station". We rented it for $520 a month which I guess was a fair price for a house at that time. There was a river that ran by it and about 50 or so acres of land behind it with pecan trees that our landlord kept his horses in. Overall, Kitty had a beautiful home, better than the coped up house, I guess. She found lots of things to do with herself when she was bored, like chasing butterflies (like in all the movies with kittens chasing them) and grasshoppers (usually it ended up her eating them). Sometimes, she would catch fish from the river and eat one side of it and leave the other in the garden. I'd come to work in the garden and have a heart attack after seeing unblinking eyes staring at me from underneath a cabbage. When I asked Kitty about it, she'd give me a look that said, "Have you seen a psychiatrist lately?," and I swear I saw her snickering when I stormed inside after yelling at her. At nights, she went away, probably to that orange male tabby, and didn't come back until the sun was high in the sky the next day. My family never worried about her knowing she could take care of herself. She was a free soul in the wind, or that's what we liked to think.
One day, my mom was working in the garden when she saw a green, tiny snake. It was probably just a harmless garden snake, but as religious as she is, she screams, crying that an evil sprit is attacking her. To tell you the truth, that snake was probably just taking an afternoon nap, but obviously, my mom didn't take it that way. She yells and screams making the whole family come outside, and to our surprise, Kitty comes yawning through the bushes, as if to say, "What's going on?" When she sees the snake, I see her eyes turn red and she pounces on the poor snake, digging her sharp fangs into its head. It squirms around but later goes limp, my sister screaming her head off. Kitty starts to eat the green thing starting with the tail, which of course didn't help my spasming sister. She finally ran inside after awhile leaving me, my dad, and my mom outside. Kitty, after eating her share stares at me as if saying, "You want the other half?". It was very kind of her, but I pass. My dad since then treated her like a queen, buying this and that, but never really taking her to the vet. She didn't like anything he bought her, so he just gave up after a while and my mom's gotten closer to her but still doesn't pet her. But like the cool kitty she is, she stayed calm as to say, "No prob". As for those Toms, she still has 'em hangin on her tail, though I've noticed they've gotten slightly old.
Hey what can I say? I love my Kitty. I'm a 14 year old with a 6 year old polka dotted (calico)cat that thinks she's a princess. The story's actually true, she really is a smart babe, but I lost her when my family was on vacation. She stayed with my aunt but she ran away. She didn't have a licence or a collar she there was no way of ever getting her....... I know I'm not that great of a writing, but I'm trying!
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