Rags

By P.S.Gifford

I think I might have acquired a cat. Or, I should say far truthfully- I think that a cat may have acquired me.

It began two weeks ago, as my neighbor across the street rang my doorbell.

“Hello,” I said as I answered the door.

“Hello,” he replied.

“Can I help you?” I added not used to visitors at nine in the morning.

“Yes, I just wanted to know that you cat has been clawing at your front door for the last twenty minutes, crying and trying to get back inside.”

“But I don’t own a cat,” I said.

“Oh!” he said as he scratched his head.

“Where is he,” I said peering about with curiosity.

“It ran off as I came up tour driveway.”

Three days later my good friend, Greg, came over for lunch. I am considering putting a water fountain in the corner of my yard and he has experience in such matters.

He was looking at one of my many feed birders when he said. “I did not know you had a cat!”

“Errm, I don’t,” I replied walking over to him.

“Then who is this then?” he said pointing with a big grin on his face at this underfed multi-colored little thing meowing softly at the side of my house.

I walked a little closer, and the cat began to meow a little louder. I studied the poor mite and went down on one knee and meowed back. Yes, yes, I know that sounds silly…Darn silly, a grown man meowing.

However the cat did not appear to consider it silly at all, as it cocked its head at me, and then slinked its way towards me with a deliberately slow movements, as if to say “Yeah, gorgeous aren’t I!” and allowed me the pleasure and honor of scratching its head.

Greg shook his head. “Doctor Doolittle strikes again,” he said with amazement in his voice.

It was then my dog, Tasha, from inside the house began to bark…And my feline friend bid a hasty retreat.

I thought that was surely going to be the end of it…But I was, as I am sure you have guessed, wrong.

A couple of days later, I was sitting where I sit everyday-in my office. I was tapping out one of my attempts at storytelling, when I heard a noise that made me all of a flutter- a cat purring. I looked behind me, and saw to my delight that the cat was outside my office window looking at me…

So now you are pretty much up to date with me and this cat, who I now call Rags.

Well, now Rags seems to spend most of its time in my garden, accept of course when the dogs are outside. I naturally did the honorable thing, and began to leave her food and drink. (Yes, I found out it is a lady cat.)

I haven’t told my wife yet-haven’t found the courage.

But, in my defense as I mentioned before, it wasn’t my fault. After all the cat found me- and not the other way around.

Wish me luck.

P.S. Gifford

P.S. Gifford is a published horror author of great talent. He started submitting stories around 2005. His short stories are by far some of the best and most entertaining that I have read. Around that time he was invited to write columns which are titled "Paperback Writer."

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

error

Enjoyed this? Please spread the word :)