Felix by Sofia Greenberg - Humble Pie

Anyways, what were we talking about? So I wasn’t getting adopted, and the months
rolled on till I was about one and a half years old. That’s when I saw her again,
Rachel White.
In my past life, Rachel was the first girl who went down on me. She was kind
of chubby, and she liked me way too much. And not for any of the reasons the other
girls did. Rachel and I had been friends for a while before she fell for me – and
admittedly, I fell for her too - just not enough. I never fell for any girl enough. But
Rachel had this hot friend, Stephanie, that I wanted to bang real bad. Rachel sensed
something was up or whatever and became a god damn cock block. And so I told
Rachel she was an ugly cow. That ended our friendship, and I didn’t think much of
it. I never thought much about any of that stuff…. until I got my cat balls removed.
That seemed to curse me, with compassion or remorse or something.
You can probably imagine how surprised I was to see Rachel at the SPCA.
She was more beautiful than I remembered – for a human. I had forgotten how large
her breasts were, and how stringy her hair was…very stringy. I got up and meowed
at her. More of a squeak than a meow – my cat voice was pathetic. Rachel turned
and looked at me and my heart melted. She pet my head and I licked her hand which
in turn made her smile.
In the socialization room, I let Rachel put me in her lap. I don’t know why I
was so obtuse to that before. Laps are warm and you can put your head on the
human’s hand while they scratch your head with their other hand. Rachel also let me
play with her stringy hair. And as I let her curls fall into my mouth I knew I loved
her.
…
As a human, I was named Alex – like Alexander the Great. As a cat, Rachel
named me Muffins – which at first I resented but came to not mind as much. In the
beginning Rachel was an excellent master. She let me sleep at the end of the bed and
everything! She also would feed me Fancy Feast as opposed to the generic stuff they
gave me at the shelter.
Her apartment was far bigger than my previous living quarters. Which was
great because I could run frantically from room to room for no reason at all. And
Rachel loved it! Everything I did was ‘adorable’ and would make her laugh.
Sometimes Rachel would bring over her pretty friends. I would run under the bed
and hide, watching their feet, till Rachel would come and drag me out. When I was a
human I would have probably fucked them all, but now I feel pretty loyal to Rachel
…I mean, she’s the one who feeds me after all.
When she brought men over I was overwhelmingly jealous. They would fuck
her over and over for hours and sometimes I would watch from my cat bed, but
mostly I would just sit in the bathroom on top of the laundry basket and fume about
it. Then the dude would usually come in to take a leak and if he didn’t notice I was
there I would hiss to scare him, making piss go everywhere and causing him to
swear.
Then one night, I’m sitting in the bathroom after this one dude’s been banging
her for like an hour and I hear the front door slam. Rachel walks in a little while
after. She’s in a sexy red slip and has smeared lip-gloss on her face. She bends down
and begins to clean out my litter box. That’s when I see it, this look of utter despair
and loneliness laced across her face. Eyes focused on shoveling my shit. Then she
puts down the little scooper and wraps her arms around herself and begins to softly
cry.
“Fuck.” She murmurs. And for the first time ever in both my lives I want to
tell this girl that she’s my everything, and not to be sad. But I know that I am not
enough for Rachel. And ‘meow’ is the only response I can give her.
Rachel’s eyes meet mine, and I can tell she is both relieved I am there and yet
disappointed that it’s just me. That it’s just Muffins.
“I’ll be okay, kitty.” She says.
After that little incident she started bringing more and more men over. And
they’d fuck her and hurt her and leave her – just as I had once done. She’d cry and
cry as she cleaned out my litter box and I felt helpless to comfort her. I’d meow, I’d
chase ping-pong balls around the apartment - but nothing helped. Not even when I
would bring her dead bugs.
Finally, after months of assholes, this one guy appears whom Rachel calls
‘Jake’. And he’s okay, a bit of a loser if you ask me. But Rachel tells her friends he’s
nice and takes care of her well, so I guess that’s cool. I like Jake okay. He plays with
me and the string sometimes. I love string.
But I’ve been feeling funny lately. Like something is wrong inside my head.
Master – I mean Rachel – is happy. And so I am happy. Okay, actually I am a bit
concerned because she has been purchasing the flavors of Fancy Feast I like the least.
(what the hell is ‘mixed grill’ anyway?) I have not been bringing her dead bugs as
presents to express my discontent with this. But Jake distracts her. Which is okay,
because he plays with me and the string. I do love string.
Rachel is out of the apartment more and so I’ve been sitting in front of the
window. And I don’t think about much when I do it. Hours pass and I don’t feel or
notice anything. But I miss Master when she is gone. And sometimes it takes her too
long to notice that my food bowl is empty or my litter box is too full.
I’m starting to wonder if there is something I have forgotten. I sleep a lot – I
mean, a lot – and I have dreams about another time and another place when I was
something other than a cat. But what was it? I can’t remember. And now I don’t
understand what the master is talking about. Only when she calls my
name…Muffins…or brings me food…or string…God, I love string.