Cats Eyes

Things look different through Cats Eyes Published by P J Miller at Smashwords License Notes Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non- commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support. Cats Eyes Sam glanced over at the cat sleeping by the hearth with distaste. He didn`t like cats. He did, however, love his girlfriend Penny and, to his annoyance, Penny and her cats were an inseparable package. Before she met him, the cats had been her whole world and he felt he was still an outsider. He grimaced, remembering his first visit to Penny`s house. His skin had started crawling as soon as she had opened the door. He had been greeted by a bunch of her favourite felines, all sitting there staring up at him. The cats had hardly been delighted at Sam`s arrival either. He fancied they were watching and conspiring against him. He found himself tripping over felines all over the place, especially the stairs which he now treated with the greatest of care. He had once mentioned his suspicions to Penny. Her eyes had rolled up as the girl, as he remembered very well, had fixed him in an icy stare. She had accused Sam of paranoia before turning her back to him and storming off. He had to admit, Penny looked after the cats well and they seemed to show her the same sort of affection. The fat cat by the hearth, the instigator as he liked to call her, wasn`t actually fat. It was pregnant and Sam wasn`t looking forward to half a dozen new cats cluttering up the place. He had joked that Penny looked after the cats better then she looked after him. That hadn`t gone down too well either. "You know why I look after them, Sam?" She had spoken to him as if he were a child. "They depend on me. They need me." "I need you, Penny." He had said almost apologetically. "No Sam. You want me, you don`t need me. There`s a big difference." He had tried to argue but Penny stopped him in his tracks. "Don`t make me choose between you and the cats, Sam," she had warned him. He already knew Penny well enough to realise that he wouldn`t get a second chance. The cats were off limits as far as she was concerned. It had taken a week of apologising and a fortune in flowers before she had forgiven him and things were more or less back to normal. The flowers had proved to be a mistake. He had realised he didn`t know her as well as he thought after discovering them upside down in the bin the next day. He had tentatively asked her about them that evening. She had looked at him sadly. "I don`t need silly gestures, Sam." Lesson learned. Sam thought the cats sensed his dislike of their slinky bodies and thick fur and deliberately taunted him. He watched with dismay as the mother cat awoke and had a good stretch; he hated they way they did that too, with their tails stuck up in the air like a flagpole. Then the cat turned to look at him. "Oh God," he thought, "it`s going to come over and sit on me." It didn`t. To his relief, the cat merely flicked its tail disdainfully in his direction and made for the kitchen. It waddled a little under the weight of its unborn kittens. Sam stifled a laugh, soon cut off when the cat exposed it`s backside to him...deliberately he thought. He decided to ignore the taunt and settled back in his chair. He grew angry, listening to Penny cooing over her cats in the kitchen. Be nice if she looked after me like that, he thought. A nearby cushion took the brunt of his anger, receiving a hefty punch before being stuffed under his back. After feeding her cats, Penny reappeared with a big smile on her face. She sat beside him. "I`m glad you`re here, Sam." His heart lifted as he looked into her big green eyes. Things were looking up. She spoke again before he could reply. "I need your help." "Anything I can do, I will penny. You know that." he said, smiling at the girl. "Well, actually, we need your help." "We?" Oh God, please don`t let it be the cats. He quickly looked away, hoping she`d change her mind. It was the cats of course and Penny never changed her mind where they were concerned. "Scampi is heavily pregnant as you know. She`s going to have her litter some time in the next couple of weeks and I won`t be here." That was news to him. "What?" He stiffened, turning to face her. "I have to go on a tour. Sorry it`s a bit sudden but it`s an opportunity of a lifetime. They want to show some of my paintings in the Tate, down in London, you know?" He did, but was surprised at her sudden announcement. He nodded at her to continue. "Well, they want me there to meet people and shake hands and that sort of thing." "That`s great." He was genuinely pleased for her. "But can`t the cats go in a cattery or something. You know they hate me." Her face fell. "I wouldn`t ask you to do this if it wasn`t important Sam. It means a lot to me, but so do the cats." She stared at him with that steely look that he had come to know so well. "They are not going in a cattery." She stood and walked slowly back to the kitchen, talking over her shoulder as she went. "I can tell them I can`t go, but I was hoping you`d do this little thing for me. All they need is food and water a couple of times a day." She paused at the door, looking back at him with wide eyes. "Is that too much to ask?" He surrendered, as she knew he would. "No, of course not. I`ll do what I can. It`s just that I don`t know what to do with pregnant cats." She smiled. "You don`t have to do anything. Scampi knows how to take care of her kittens. You just make sure she`s kept warm and has water available all day." Scampi, the female cat, looked on as they shared a hug. Sam fancied he saw disapproval in the animal`s face as he and Penny went upstairs hand in hand. By the time Sam awoke the next morning, Penny had already left. There was a note on the kitchen table, carefully folded diagonally, Penny style. Sam liked that about Penny. She was different. He picked up the little note, smiling at the faint whiff of Penny`s fresh perfume. Sam. I know you and the cats don`t get along but they`ll need you. Don`t pick Scampi up while she`s pregnant and please please don`t try to pick up a kitten until I get back. Scampi won`t allow it. See you soon, love & kisses, etc. P. He snorted. "Cats. It`s always about the bloody cats." He angrily screwed up the note and threw it across the room. And what did she mean Scampi wouldn`t allow it? Since when did the cats get to make the decisions around here? Sam watched as one of Penny`s four cats, he could never remember their names, romped over to investigate. It sniffed the bit of paper then curled up beside it. "See?" he said to the cat. "This is why I prefer dogs. They don`t get distracted by meaningless crap." Well, apart from sniffing each other`s backsides, he conceded. The cat kept an eye on Sam until he could stand the scrutiny no more. "I`m going out," he said, "be back late..." he stopped suddenly. "Why the hell am I talking to you?" The cat stared back at him, expressionless. Sam slammed the door behind him, not wanting Penny`s prized felines to follow him. Not that they ever would, he thought, except perhaps out of a morbid desire to see him fall under a bus. While out, he came across a few of Penny`s acquaintances. She didn`t know anyone she would consider a real friend, except Sam, but it seemed a lot of people knew about her. "So you have those lovely cats all to yourself?" They all said pretty much the same thing. "You`re so lucky." He merely nodded and went on his way. "Yeah," he muttered under his breath later, "so incredibly bloody lucky." A cat hater in a house full of marauding felines. Every one of which owns a full set of teeth and claws...and knows how to use them. Sam was not looking forward to the next two weeks. And what did he have to show for his shopping trip? A dozen cans of cat food and some beer. More moggy nosh than beer, he noted with some disgust, chucking it all into the cupboard. As it happened, the first week went quite smoothly. Sam and the cats gave each other a respectfully wide berth. He remembered to feed them twice a day and kept their water bowls full. He grudgingly let them out when they wanted to go out and back in again when they decided they`d had enough fresh air. He even managed to resist temptation when they couldn`t make up their minds and stood half in and half out of the door. He often thought a well placed boot would have helped them make up their minds. He resisted because he knew that Penny wouldn`t approve and he had little doubt she`d find out when she got back. He couldn`t keep anything from her. It`s like she has second sight, he often thought when things got heated; and that had been happening more and more. He knew he`d have to be careful if he didn`t want to find himself out in the street again. He went out again every couple of days, managing to avoid the busy-bodies and, each day, he returned with a six-pack of the strongest beer he could find. Anything to help take his mind off Penny`s feline friends and their fleas. Sam was busy doing what Sam did best; watch television and drink beer. The two things that Penny had tried hardest to wean him off. "When the catthh away the mythe will play." He said to the cats, a little worse for wear. He laughed raucously at his own joke. Just as well Penny`s not here, he observed in a rare moment of clarity. She hated him drunk. He pretty much hated himself when drunk too, but it had never stopped him. Sam idly scratched his ankle a few times before looking down at his leg. Flea bites! "For God`s sake," annoyed, "bloody cats really hate me." Sam went to bed early on Saturday night, contemplating another full week with those annoying cats. The flea bite on his ankle had been impossible for him to ignore, it wouldn`t stop itching and every time he scratched, he just made it worse. By the time Sam got up, the next morning, he was in a foul mood. His leg had a raw patch the side of his fist where he had scratched half the night and, to make things even worse, his calf had half a dozen brand new bites from the hungry flea. If that wasn`t bad enough, he also had the mother of all hangovers. His head was pounding and his mouth felt like sandpaper, pretty rotten sandpaper at that. His mood wasn`t improved when he reached the kitchen and found five tiny newborn kittens snuggled up against their, now remarkably thinner, mother. Scampi looked up as he entered the room. He wasn`t too surprised to see her instinctively curl her body a little closer around her litter. "Nervous are we?" He chuckled as the cats ears twitched. She flicked her tail, turning her head to watch Sam as he made his way across the kitchen. He placed water and food bowls on the floor, as he had done every morning, under the watchful gaze of the cats. He peered at the kittens. "Cute little things." He laughed. "Even though they are cats," he corrected himself. What the hell do you feed kittens anyway? He pondered for a moment. "What was it Penny said?" He realised he`d spoken aloud when he saw Scampi`s eyes widen and her ears turn towards him like little radar dishes. He glared back for a moment before giving up. Not worth trying to out-stare a cat, he decided. Sam caught something out of the corner of his eye. He turned just in time to see a tiny mouse scurrying across the floor. It vanished under the furniture before he had a chance to react. "Did you see that?" He pointed in the general direction of the mouse. "Nearly half a dozen," he checked himself, looking at the kittens again, "no, almost a dozen cats in the house and we have mice." He shook his head in disbelief. "You lot had better buck your ideas up." Sam went back upstairs and left the cats to do whatever it was cats did when they weren`t being annoying. He had no idea what that might be but he was willing to bet that it didn`t include catching rodents. He took a couple of painkillers, threw himself back on the bed and closed his eyes against the morning glare. He swore at his foolishness, he`d chucked far too much beer down his throat. He knew he`d do it all over again though. Sam woke to the noises of cats playing, or fighting, or something. Maybe they were chasing mice. We can always hope, he thought, chuckling. He didn`t believe for one moment that they were actually doing anything useful. Better go check on the little beggers I suppose. The cats heard him clumping down the stairs. By the time he reached the kitchen, they had all, except Scampi and her kittens, found a corner to hide in. Sam wasn`t fooled for a second. He knew they weren`t scared of him, they just didn`t like him. The feeling was mutual and he was happy to have them well out of the way. Sam opened the fridge and his eyes were instantly drawn to a shelf full of ice cold tins. "Aw hell," he said to nobody in particular, wishing he`d hidden them. He tried to ignore the tins but he could almost see those tiny globules of moisture forming on the outside of the tins. He imagined them turning into rivulets, and all those little bubbles begging to be released made his mouth water. He could taste the hops and feel the cool refreshing liquid slipping down his throat. Moisture filled Sam`s mouth and his meagre resistance was ended. Old habits die hard and he soon had a tab pulled. Before long, he was staggering between the fridge and the table where he had stacked rows of empty tins. He carefully examined the pyramid before him. "Watch and learn, Kitties. This one goes on the top." He said to the cats, sitting on the floor watching him. One of the cats jumped onto the table just as he was about to place the last tin. Unable to gain any purchase on the top, the cat slid into the carefully constructed pyramid, scattering the tins all over the place with a deafening clatter. ... - tailieumienphi.vn