Chapter Text
March 22nd 1995
Mood: /ᐠᵕ̩̩̥ ‸ᵕ̩̩̥ ᐟ\
I miss my family. I miss my Mom and my litter. I thought my siblings would always be my playmates, but then a little human girl came to visit our house, and picked me up. She seemed nice, but in hindsight I should have clawed her. I didn’t know she was never going to put me down. I could never have guessed she’d take me away from my family. At first I thought it was just a game, but I’m still here. I’m now in a big, wooden house without my Mom and my siblings. At least the girl is giving me lots of attention. And she keeps calling me Ginger, like it’s my name. It’s not the same name my Mom gave me, but I guess I kinda like it. It sounds sassy and kinda spicy.
March 28th 1995
Mood: /ᐠ ._. ᐟ\ﾉ
I still miss my litter, but I get really good food here. And the little girl who lives here, Karen, plays with me a lot. She’s a lot bigger than my sisters, but she could be a new sister. Her Mom is a good cook, too. I got something called salted kipper today. It's utterly purrfect. I’ve never tasted anything like it in my whole life. I wonder if my own Mom ever tried it? If I got to eat that everyday, I guess I’d be a very happy cat. I just wish I could send some home to my family.
April 2nd 1995
Mood: /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\
I was let out in the garden for the first time today. The trees are so tall, and the sky is even higher out of reach. ‘Outside’ is amazing. I quite like living here. I hope my brother and sisters get to experience this. I wish I could tell them about it.
April 3rd 1995
Mood: /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\
Karen’s Dad installed something called a cat flap in the back door today with a really loud drill. I really didn’t like the drill, and meowed at him a lot to stop, but they didn’t listen and Karen just carried me away. Then later, I was taken back to the cat flap, and imagine my surprise when it smelled like there was my favourite salted kipper on the other side! I pushed through and somehow ended up outside by myself. It’s like a wormhole, or something. But there was only salted kipper on the other side the first time. That’s a shame. But now I can go outside any time I want, like it’s my own personal transporter. I feel so free! It’s really paw-some.
April 8th 1995
Mood: /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\
I tried to go outside today again, as it’s now my daily routine when Karen is somewhere called ‘school’ and her parents are out somewhere to watch the birds and try to climb the shortest tree in the back to get at them… but today the craziest thing happened. There was water falling down from the sky! I like to drink water from my bowl, but I really don’t like it falling on me from the sky. I didn’t like the feel of it on my fur, and it got my paws all wet, too. I had to go back inside.
April 29th 1995
Mood: /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\
I’ve been really itchy all over lately. It’s really getting under my claws. Maybe I’m just itching to see my family? Is that it?
May 1st 1995
Mood: ✧/ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\
I really hate nail clipping. Like, I LOATHE it! After they put the clippers back in the shelf and left the room, I made sure to smash the cabinet door open until the offending clippers fell out. They’ll never find where I hid it, hehe, silly human suckers.
May 3rd 1995
Mood: ✧/ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\
I thought I hated when water falls from the sky, but I’ve decided that the water I hate most is when the humans put a lot of it into something called a bath, and stick you in. Why would anyone choose to put a cat through such torture?! And what are ‘fleez?’
Sheesh, Karen’s Dad really deserved the scratch I inflicted on his arm for trying to stick me in there. Does he think I don’t know how to clean myself? Does he think my barbed tongue is inadequate? My Mom taught me purrfectly fine, thank you very much. Actually, I was so outraged I refused to eat my dinner, then I raided the fridge later and helped myself to an egg. How was I to know the ones in the fridge weren’t cooked and broke easily when they hit the floor? I’m hungry now. Maybe I should have just eaten my dinner after all.
May 4th 1995
Mood: /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\
I had a surprisingly good day today. First, the itching’s stopped for some miracle of a reason, and second, I found a new activity. Happily, my shortened nails still worked well enough to shred a bunch of papers I found on Karen’s Mom’s desk, and it was really fun. It made the whole floor white and pretty, like a dry version of that weather that makes the grass wet and sheen outside.
May 19th 1995
Mood: ✧/ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\
I didn’t do it. I swear in the name of the god of cats, I’m a good cat. And I’m not stupid either. I know what Karen did. She set me up. She used me as a scape-cat. I didn’t smash the tv. Karen was playing with one of those things called ‘yo-yos’ in the living room. It had flashing lights, but she wouldn’t let me touch it, which is a shame because they were so pretty and mesmirising. Anyway, she was doing something called a 'cat's cradle', which made no sense at all as it was nothing to do with my sleeping space, and then it hit the tv... which fell down. Then, get this, she blamed me! Her cat-sister! I thought we were family! Such betrayal!! And then her parents believed her, before starting to yell at me a lot, and then they turned on each other! Karen started crying, and at that point the raucous all became too much, so I hid out in the garden to sit under the tree all night. The sky turned black and I saw bright white lights up on it, like Karen’s yo-yo. I didn’t like them, so I just shut my eyes to block them out and went to sleep there.
May 20th 1995
Mood: /ᐠᵕ̩̩̥ ‸ᵕ̩̩̥ ᐟ\
I don’t know where I am. I was put in a box for ages by Karen’s Mom, and then when I was let out, Karen hugged me- she was crying again- and then I was put in a cage by rough hands I’ve never smelled before, and left alone.
And that’s where I’ve been left for the longest time. It’s so small and stinky here, and oh-so noisy. I don’t like my water and food bowl. I don’t like the smell of the kitty litter they expect me to do my business in. It’s not the right constituency. There are no windows. I don’t feel safe. I talked to the other cats here that I can see through the bars of my cage, who say they’ve been here for many nights and days. They described other animals they’d seen here. Bigger ones that run fast and chase after cats like us. I really don’t want to meet them. I’m scared. I wish my Mom was here to explain what was happening. And I miss Karen and the big wooden house.
Why am I here? Why won’t Karen come for me? I’m not a bad cat. What did I do to deserve this?
August 2nd 1995
Mood: /ᐠᵕ̩̩̥ ‸ᵕ̩̩̥ ᐟ\
Sorry I haven’t updated my diary in so long… I’ve just been so miserable and sad. Every day is the same. In the morning, I’m let out to go hang out with the other cats in an outside enclosure, but there are no trees to climb or birds to pester. And some of the feline gangs are real bitches.
Then, in the afternoon, children- girls and boys who are not Karen- stare at me.
Meanwhile, big humans I don't know and who don't talk to me rough handle me, give me tasteless food, then ignore me... It’s torture. It’s relentless. I’d happily face the dreaded bath filled with water again if I knew I’d get to go home again.
Have I been abandoned? Is this a mistake? A misunderstanding? Is Karen ever coming back? Or will someone take me back to my Mom if I wait it out?
August 8th 1995
Mood: /ᐠ ._. ᐟ\ﾉ
Today was different! They had more visitors than usual. There was a bustle of excitement among the staff. Our cages got cleaned extra, which I appreciated, and I and the other cats even got dressed up in ribbons. Obviously I looked pretty good without, but nothing wrong with sprucing up now and then.
Someone said today was ‘International Cat Day’. Obviously, I would expect every day to be Cat Day, of course, and I’m not sure who this ‘International’ is, or who their cat is, but all I know is thank you Mr. or Ms. International, because that must be the reason she came.
I knew from the moment our eyes locked in the noisy, stinky rescue centre I was going to be happy with her. She had such a sparkle in her human eyes. They're the same colour as my favourite can of Purina. And the fur on her head is a sunshine yellow, like in the daytime outside I love. She's much older than Karen, a fully grown- I didn’t even know they kept or even wanted cats- but she had this air of a human I can trust. So when she asked one of the workers I hated to open the cage and let her get a closer look at me, the moment she picked me up, I didn’t resist.
I felt safe in her arms. She was gentle and slow. And then she touched me in just the right place on the side of my neck that my Mom always used to nip at me when cleaning me, and I couldn’t help letting out a purr- a noise I hadn’t made in a long time. It had felt good. Karen hadn’t even known that spot. I liked this woman, and it seemed the feeling must have been mutual, because next I knew I was being taken away from my prison to her car.
So I let her take me to her home.