15-20 Seconds of Creative Non-Fiction

As I laid my head down on the already fluffed pillow, I heard a small sound. At first, I wasn’t sure what it was or where it was coming from. It sounded almost in agony, yet it was so soft, so quiet; I didn’t realize it was coming from my own bedroom. Quickly, I threw my maroon comforter off of my recently cocooned body and I got up. My first instinct was to turn on the flashlight on my phone and check under the bed.

Around the light, it was pitch black,  and the chilling feeling of someone watching me crept over me. The darkness under my bed always creeped me out; I’ve seen too many horror movies. After too much overthinking, the hairs on my neck stood up; the noise was back. Except, this time, it was closer. I quickly scanned the room with my flashlight in hand and I saw it.

Or rather…  I saw her.

Underneath the dark wall of clothes that lined my closet, I shined my flashlight in her direction and her shiny blue-eyes looked up at me with exhaustion washed over her face. I walked over to her and saw that the blanket on the floor was spattered with blood. I quickly inspected the area around her and at a closer glance, I saw quite a few jellybean toes, along with ten unopened eyes, and five pink and black noses. My beautiful blue-eyed baby girl just gave birth to five squeaky little kittens.

Disclaimer: This is a creative non-fiction story about a 15-20 second moment in my life. I decided to write about this particular moment because it was the day my grandkitties were born (April 24, 2015). I kept two of the five and they’re pictured above.

Theodore Toe-fur Meowsevelt is the kitty on top. He almost died at six-months by eating a shoestring (you can read about it here: A Matter Of Four Days ). I’m so happy he made it through and he’s still my baby munchkin.

Patrick Meowsevelt, on the other hand, is still a chubby little man. He’s definitely grandpa’s cat, but he’s very particular and judgmental when it comes to who is in his house. They’re both such characters, and they’re little punks, but I love them unconditionally.

To read more on my boys and their mama, see the following:

Baby Blue Eyes

They Pounced

Theodore “Toefur” Meowsevelt: A Memoir From a Cat’s Perspective

Baby Blue Eyes

Baby blue eyes,

sitting on my lap,

how do you stay,

when I move my legs?

I’ll set you on the floor,

because my limbs fall asleep,

but you still come back.

Is it love?

Do you just,

want my chair?

Mama cat,

Oh,

Mama cat,

I don’t understand.

I’ll always appreciate,

your little claws.

Especially since this is,

a rare occurrence.

Or rather,

it used to be.

Do you miss my brother?

Is this just you,

being a sad little cat?

I know you hate,

your bratty kids.

I know you love,

to be squished and held.

But mama cat,

Oh,

Mama cat.

with your,

baby blue eyes,

what’s going on,

in that little head?

I See You

I see you,

 With your green slitted eyes,

And your long pointy nails.


The way you move,

through the mulch,

and the way you eat,

I see you.


Scales,

Tails,

Nails and all,

I see you.


And even though,

Others are intimidated by you,

I want to hold you,

And the anticipation,

 is killing me.


I watch you through,

The glass cage,

 that confines you.


I watch as you scurry,

When people take photos of you.


I’m one of those people.


It’s been almost six

years.

Since I’ve found

my love and

fascination towards you.


I have a list of names

in my phone

already ready for you.


So,

blue iguana,

sitting on top of your house,

made of logs,

in the middle of Petco.

I see you.


And I’m almost ready,

to bring you home.

They Pounced

 

His brown hair flows,

in the subtle wind of the basement room fan.

His eyes set forward in a trance,

watching and waiting for his food.

Patiently,

 with his butt in the air,

he pulls his ears back,

and waits.

He waits for his prey to still,

before he can attack.

The creature watches as the human,

picks up the dish,

scoops out the pellets,

and puts the dish back.

His prey was ready.

The ritual was about to begin.

He looked over to his brother and nodded,

they were both ready for this exact moment.

The creatures weren’t sure,

when they were going to be fed again.

So, they pounced.

They pounced for the food,

that they weren’t going to ration,

because they didn’t know how.

All they knew,

was that they were hungry,

and there was food.

Right there,

in front of them.

They finished it off within minutes,

but their bellies were still growling,

like the beasts, they were.

The blobs of fur laid by the dish,

for what seemed like hours,

but it was only minutes.

They let out little sounds.

They yelled at the humans impatiently.

“Feed us!” they shouted.

But no one came.

Not for hours.

They were left in the basement.

Alone.

Minutes turned to hours.

Hours turned to days.

They were hungry,

and felt like they were withering away.

When finally,

the human came back.

“I just fed you five minutes ago,”

the human lied.

The human always lied.

We watched as they scooped,

they scooped the food up,

and set the bowl down.

The furry creatures put their,

butt in the air,

folded their ears,

and they pounced.

Dinner was finally served,

or was it second breakfast?

Theodore “Toefur” Meowsevelt: A Memoir From a Cat’s Perspective

It was a very long night when my momma, Lylah decided to give birth to 5 beautiful baby kittens. On April 24th, the girl human got home from work at almost 11 0’clock at night and my momma was settled into her little box in the back of the closet. Meowing. Groaning. Whining. By the time 1 o’clock arrived I was born alongside my brothers and sister. We were nameless at the time until the humans decided what our names would be but eventually I learned that my name would be Theodore Meowsevelt. I have long hair and apparently, I’m the worst behaved one.

When we were born we couldn’t really hear or see much but we still knew where our momma was. She was always with us. From the time we were born from the moment we started walking. Lylah was no ordinary mom. She loved us unconditionally and made sure we were groomed well and fed. Every time we tried to roll away from her she would pick us up by our scruffs and pull us down for a bath.

“No, mom! Stooppp! I wanna play with my siblings!”, I’d scream and protest while she continuously pulled me back from the spot I rolled to.

“Theodore Meowsevelt, get your tiny furry butt back here!”, she’d faintly scold at me while I proceeded to protest.

No matter how much I tried to roll, momma always got me. She wouldn’t let us go further than 6 inches away from her. How ridiculous is that? I mean, we were only a couple weeks old at the time, but I still wanted my freedom.

We later learned that our mother wasn’t just a mother. She was a smother. From the time we were born until we were a couple months old. Our momma was the cat version of Beverly Goldberg.

Sooner or later, our eyes and ears started to open more. I could see blurry little blobs I could only assume were my siblings and we could hear our mom a little bit more clearly. The latter part was not very fun to say the least, considering I was always in trouble. Momma seemed to only yell at me rather than the other four.

When our eyesight was no longer blurry I could finally make out what my siblings looked like. Alistair was the oldest by a couple of seconds. He had, what looked like white eyeliner around his eyes and he had long hair like me! Winston was a little gray tabby cat who looked just like our daddy, an outdoor alley cat named Oliver. Winston was so friendly and he had a twin sister named Daisy, who was the only girl of the group. Patrick, well Patrick kind of looked like a squishy ball of fur. He had short hair and we believe he was the baby because he’s clueless most of the time.

It wasn’t long after our eyes and ears opened until we started to learn how to walk. Walking.. Well. Walking was weird. One little paw in front of the other. My siblings and I took on a new task together. All of us stumbled, some of us made it a few inches, while others (mainly Patrick) decided to stay next to mom.

“Come on Patrick, let’s go explore the world!” we would try and protest with him.

“Guys, I’m so comfortable. I don’t wanna leave mom.”, he’d say while proceeding to get groomed, yet again, by momma.

Patrick would not budge. He was just a squishy ball of laziness. So, we just left him to his naps and over-bathing tendencies.

A couple weeks went by before we learned how to jump. We were on the girl humans bed when we were only a couple months old! It was so high up there. Sometimes we would just sleep up there and take up the girl humans leg room. It was fun and sooo much more comfortable than the floor my momma had us sleep on.

At 6 months old, my siblings started to disappear! It was the craziest thing.

A Matter Of Four Days 

Hello World of WordPress.

As any of you may know, I have three cats, two are kitties, the other is the mama. Well, my little man Theodore decided he wasn’t going to feel well when I got off of work on Friday (08/28/15). I mistook him acting weird as a sign of a belly ache (kittens get those sometimes) and went ahead with my plans to sleep at my fiancé’s parents house (we still live with our parents so we move back and forth). Well. Saturday comes around and we go check on the furbabies.

Let me tell y’all, Theodore Meowsevelt looked so horrible. He was so lethargic, not eating or drinking and he just kept vomiting. Everywhere.

Poor thing.


Needless to say we stayed with him and attempted to nurse him back to hydration but he just wouldn’t do it. My fuzzy monster was not acting like himself at all.

We called the emergency vet and they said to try everything that was on the Internet (flavored water, tuna, wet food) and we tried. He wouldn’t drink. He wouldn’t eat. He didn’t even sleep with us. He just stayed by the door while his brother Patrick groomed him and napped with him.

(Theodore is on the left, Patrick is on the right.)

Around Sunday night my boy started drinking the tuna flavored water and he even went to the bathroom! Things were slowly starting to look up, but he still wouldn’t eat or play around; then the baby decided to spit up a hairball and eat it! Nasty boy. We figured that would be the problem right then, so we decided to take him in.

Monday morning we took him in to the vet with a “walk-in” appointment ($33). The first step was to weigh him, he was a whopping 4.9 pounds. Then they took his temperature before the vet came in. Well, as any pet owner knows, they put the thermometer in his butt and he started PURRING. Oh my gosh, the nurse was laughing and Cody and I couldn’t help ourselves because we always call him gay for sleeping with his brother (we’re not against gays or anything before any of y’all start hating). His temperature was 100.3.

(Patrick is on the left and Theodore is on the right.)

The vet came in and felt around his tummy. He said there was a hard mass about 2×2 in width and about 4 inches in length (which was the size of the hairball he spit up).

Well, the vet gave us three options.
1) go with the laxatives
2) do barium tests
3) the exploratory surgery

The only logical thing to do was the surgery. So we signed up for a CareCredit card and admitted him.

We left him in the vets hands and went back home.

A couple hours later the nurse calls with a bad ultimatum, she said that we could either pay more to get him fixed or put him down. We chose the first option even with the 50/50 mortality rate, because that’s my little man and I couldn’t lose him.

I checked my phone every hour, hoping to not get the bad call.

One hour went by..

Two hours…

Three..

Then they called.

Theodore was out of surgery and sleepy, they said we had to keep him overnight to make sure he goes potty and is still healthy.

I still waited for that call that something was wrong or that we could get him.

Well, hours went by until I could fall asleep.

wpid-20150927_234727_hdr4.jpgThe next day, we called and they said Theodore was awake and healthy! I could go get my boy at 3pm!

3pm came and sure enough Theo was acting like himself, he was up and bumping against the little carrier for attention. My little man was back to being himself.

We took him home and he ate more than what the vet thought he would and he slept with me for a couple of hours until Cody got home.

Today he’s just as hyper with a little bit more weight on him and he’s a happy growing grandkitten!