Story 64. Written by Rosa J. Vargas

It was last summer, backing into a space in the Penny parking lot, and as I looked forward, I almost ran over a cat. I saw it sitting there, just inches from the wheel. It was sitting right in the middle of the road, totally confused, cars were driving around it. Someone must have dumped it because it looked like it had been wandering for a while. It was a small cat, white but with a red tail and a red spot on its head. Not a popular combination, even the dog wouldn't want it. Its days were numbered. I didn't dare touch it, afraid of catching something.

Then, while I was shopping, I decided I'd take it home. I asked for two empty boxes at the store to put it in. The two boxes, pushed together, would lock the cat in, and I'd only let it out at home. When I came out of the store, the cat was gone. I got in the car and headed home. At an intersection, turning right, a good few blocks from the store, there the cat was, sitting in the middle of the crosswalk, still in mortal danger, cars passing inches from it.

I pulled over to the right a few feet past the crosswalk, got out with the two boxes, and started toward the cat. By then, a little girl had carried it to the other side to keep it from getting hit, and she was just setting it down on the sidewalk when I got there. I told her it was my cat, it had just run off. Thanks for helping it. Then I put it in the box and closed it with the other one. I went back to the car and put it in. Then I went to another store, Aldi's, to shop, and the cat stayed there in the box, meowing miserably.

When I got back after shopping and wanted to leave, something touched me, it startled me, the little cat had gotten out of the box and was wandering around in the car. I quickly locked it back in. When I got home, I let it out. It wasn't a pretty sight. But I gave it food and water. It seemed like it had a cold. It was sneezing a lot, I was waiting every minute for it to die. But it survived, it came around. Anyway, it didn't really know what kind of event it was at. It disappeared a lot, I kept picking it up here and there. Once I was going into town, it was sitting in the middle of the road. I put it in the car, turned around, and took it home.

Later, the neighbors said a couple had just moved into a house a few doors down from where I found the cat, and they liked the cat and wanted to take it in, they thought it was a stray, and even gave it milk, but I took it home. Right after that. Maybe they were afraid to say they wanted the cat. But I would have gladly given it to them. It could have had a good life. Surely better than with me. Later, that couple got two cats, I often see them playing in their yard.

Old ladies who walk along the river where I live, I once offered to give them a little money if they'd take the cat in. But they didn't want it either. It's just a hassle, I've never had a pet before. The ladies tell me to take it to the vet, and I tell them, okay, but only if they give me money for it because I don't have any. Of course, they don't give any, they know I wouldn't spend it on the cat. There's a woman, retired too, who takes special care of my cat. She offered to take it to be spayed because they're afraid there will be a lot of kittens and they'll overrun the area. I decided, I'm not stopping until I get to a hundred cats. Let their fears come true. She was so forceful once that she said she was taking the cat because she'd already talked to the animal rescuers. I told her I wouldn't like it if she decided about spaying my cat against my will or without my knowledge, but I'd take it in the spring, there's no danger until then. It's still small. She understood. Though I was still afraid for a while that she might take it anyway.

Meanwhile, the cat recovered pretty well. Once, as the ladies were walking along the river, I overheard them say it wasn't even the same cat. Anyway, it was pretty good with them, sometimes it would accompany them on their walk along the dike. Then, one day, it disappeared. It didn't come home in the evening, it didn't sleep in the shed I made for it. A few days went by and I didn't have a cat anymore. It was weird. Maybe I missed it? I don't know. I asked one of the ladies if they'd seen it. I was afraid a dog had torn it apart. It didn't really know fear. Maybe it naively went up to a dog or crawled through the fence to it. There are some dogs here, people keep them, though I don't know why. The lady said she saw it. It was sitting on a woman's shoulder in a car while her husband was driving, she recognized them, they sometimes come out here to the river to get some air. They must have seen it, thought it was a stray, and took it home. I accepted the fact, and I hoped it would have a good life, Carolina.

Another day went by. It was past ten at night. I went out the door, I thought I'd have one more cigarette before bed. As I stepped out, the cat was meowing there. It came back, or they brought it back because it didn't want to stay, maybe it missed home, it was meowing a lot and they couldn't take it anymore. They brought it out to the river and let it go.

I was telling my co-workers on community service about my cat's story, how it was kidnapped. One of them perked up. She said she had kittens right now, she'd give me one so I wouldn't be without a cat. A black and white one. So I wouldn't be without a cat. I'd gotten so used to having a cat that I said okay, bring it. So she brought it in a shoebox. There were a few holes punched in the box for air. She gave it to me and left right away, said she had a lot to do, I didn't even get a good look at it. It was meowing miserably in the box. When I let it out, it disappeared like it had never existed. I didn't see it for days. Then, one day, I heard it meowing in the woods at the end of the yard. I took food over there, I saw it a couple of times, it was really black and white. Later, it came closer and slowly got tame. They ate together, the big one and the little one, there was maybe four or five months difference between them. After a while, I could even pick it up, and they slept together in the box I made for them in the evenings. It was early spring, they snuggled together, warming each other.

That's how Clementina came to me. A little squished, and her tail is broken at the end. The person who gave her to me must have run away because she thought if I saw it, I wouldn't take it. I was calculating, two girl cats, four kittens each year, and those have four kittens each if they're girls, in a few years I'll reach my goal of a hundred cats. Let the neighbors be happy! Anyway, Carolina looked at me very gratefully, that I'd gotten her a companion, she must have thought I was a god, fulfilling her wish not to be alone.

One day I was talking to the neighbor woman, and the subject of spaying came up again. I wanted to string her along, that I'd spay them later, when they were bigger. First Carolina. The lady says, can't you see it's a boy, look how big his balls are! The red cat was walking right there. I was shocked, I told her, I thought it was a girl, that's why I named it Carolina. I was a little relieved, those cats eat so much, they require constant attention, it's better if they don't breed. They'd eat me out of house and home! At least they have a minimal use, since I've had them, the mice don't scurry around in the attic.

Then we looked at Clementina, it turned out she was a girl. You can tell from her personality, she's like a little girl. She needs love, you have to play with her, pet her. Of course, it's terribly tiring for me, but she'll whine until I do it. Then the little cat got sick. She didn't eat, she was listless. I dug a hole in the yard so when she died, I could just put her in it, I wouldn't have to struggle with digging then. A few days went by, and I noticed something dark and round on her neck. When I looked closely, I realized it was a tick. There are a lot of ticks here, I realized then, though I haven't gotten one on me in nine years.

I took the little cat over to the neighbor lady and told her to take it off! I don't know how. I could barely hold her down, she scratched me in several places. Finally, I pressed her to the ground, and the lady picked them out with her fingernails. She says when they come out to the river, Carolina always goes over to them and sits in her lap. There are always a few ticks on her, and she takes them off. But Clementina never goes over, she's a homebody, so she hadn't been able to free her from the bloodsuckers. From then on, that fell on me. Every day I have to look over the two cats, I even got tweezers to pick the ticks off them. The little cat recovered, she's back to her old self, I filled in the hole. The dogs are jealous, the cats are selfish.

A few days ago, I started taking videos of the two cats and taking pictures of them too. I'm a very talented photographer, by the way. Confidence first, right? Maybe I'm not, but why shouldn't I say I am? If I said I wasn't, how much better would it be, even if that were the truth? Or maybe a lie makes something true. They say there's no truth on earth. But there's a lie? Isn't the opposite of a lie the truth? It follows that there is no lie either.

This morning, I realized how much potential there is in the two cats. Seemingly no use, but if I upload the pictures and videos to emmarally-art.com, who knows what kind of viewership they could get. Then all I have to do is advertise the kittens, "For sale: from a beginning cat breeder." Obviously, if Carolina isn't preceded by some neighborhood cat, the offspring of these two cats could be worth a lot. Then I'll put them up for auction and get rich from it. After all, I have a video collection and a story about them, this one I'm writing right now.

Wednesday, May 7, 2025, 9:34 AM

I'm going to get rich off them. They have seemingly no use, and nobody wanted them, but I did good by them and fate will reward me and make me a millionaire, or rather, they'll make me a millionaire out of gratitude. And the mice won't chew up my collection in the attic.

Wednesday, May 7, 2025, 12:31 PM

Here we are, the two of us, and it just occurred to us that maybe this is fate, or God's will. That by bringing these two cats into our path and putting us to the test. We passed the test, so we deserve the riches.

There was a girl, not beautiful or smart. Nothing special, except her father was rich, so she never lacked money. She was spoiled and thought she was the smartest in the world. Come to think of it, what she did to me wasn't stupid, that's why. She seduced me, gave me the horse to ride. I ran headfirst into the wall. I started chasing her, figuratively, I wrote her poems, tried to get close to her, which will later be uploaded. All day I didn't do anything, all day I strummed the guitar, wrote poems, I was in the most productive state of my life. I was in the most creative period of my life. I made her records with my own music. Obviously, unrequited love caused it. That brings out the best in you. From the girl's point of view, it was different, I gave her the poems, or dropped them in her mailbox, and she said, okay, I'll read them later. I brought a maypole. The girl tolerated it, and like us with the cats, realized she could profit from this. This admirer is good. Other people don't even have one. This will surely make them think there's something to me. I won't turn him away too harshly, I'll give him the horse to ride. Maybe I'll find an intelligent partner this way. It worked, everyone thought, there's, this, a fan of such a girl, there must be something to her. After that, all the young men started to value her more and more. Everyone wanted her. Her girlfriends became more and more jealous of her. Eventually, she fell in love with someone who screwed her over, so the forces balance each other out. But her plan worked, she found a husband, she has children, and a happy life. So I made this girl great, like the immigrants made America.

Cat for Sale from a Breeder