Chapter Text
One month. Thirty-one breakfasts where the fuzzy one eats first. Thirty-one mornings waking up seeing the shortest one cuddling the fuzzy one. Thirty-one days without treats. Thirty-one days with the funny one did that. The fuzzy one did this. Oh, look how cute the fuzzy one is. Thirty-one days of being invisible. Thirty-one days. Pebble is sure now that it won't change. Unless he is doing something about it.
He was patient. He waited. For the novelty to wear off. Humans are like that. They obsess. They coo. Then they forget. Pebble has seen it with plants. With a bread-making phase. With the air-fryer. With a new cleaning system with color-coded bins. Everything vanished after a few weeks. But not Mochi. The fuzzy one didn't vanish.
The fuzzy one was still here. And multiplied. He was everywhere. New toys. Squeaky ones. Ones that roll unpredictably across the floor and attack Pebble. Ones that crinkle. Everything for the fuzzy one. Even Pebble's food bowl has been moved. This was probably the greatest offense. The short one decided it's more practical when it's directly next to Mochi's bowl. Practical. Yes. When you are lazy like the short one.
The fuzzy one believed the house belonged to him. The couch. The windowsill. The beds. Pebble's tail. Apparently also Mochi's. Pebble used to own the highest ground. Now the fuzzy one climbed like gravity did not exist. He slips. He falls. The tall one and the short one gasped every time. Cuddled him. Pebble fell off the bookshelf. Nobody noticed.
The fuzzy one also believed Pebble's bowl was his. A shared resource. Now Pebble also had to fight for his food. Or at least defend it. With hissing. But the fuzzy one didn't understand hissing. He thought it was a game. The tall one helped Mochi. Scolded Pebble for hissing. It wasn't her fault. She didn't know. Thought the fuzzy one needed help.
They all fell for the fuzzy one. The devil. The shortest one carried the fuzzy one everywhere. He rode in hoodie pockets. Napped on her toys. Bit the crayons. Pebble remembered the days when the tall one and the short one shouted at him for destroying things. When the fuzzy one did it, they laughed about it.
His sleeping place was now at the foot of the bed. The fuzzy one slept in the crook of the shortest one's arm. Purring like a tiny engine that never shuts off. Pebble had to listen to it in the dark. Prrrr. Prrrr. Prrrr. It was relentless. And when the fuzzy one interrupted one of the games in the bedroom of the tall one and the short one, they didn't throw him out. Of course they stopped playing their game and entertained the fuzzy one.
That was not the tipping point. That came this morning. Everyone was fussing over Mochi. He did something cute. At least according to the tall one. According to Pebble it was stupid. The fuzzy one fell into the water bowl. He didn't look fuzzy after that. Then he ran to the couch. Made it all wet.
Pebble hopped on the counter to enjoy the show that was supposed to follow that incident. He expected a shouting tall one. A short one that tried to calm the tall one by helping with cleaning up and making it worse thereby. What he got was a happy family on the couch drying the fuzzy one and cuddling him. Then the tall one saw Pebble on the counter. And she had the audacity to shoo him away.
Pebble made his decision. He has been patient. He has been dignified. He has been ignored. Enough is enough. There was a time when he also belonged to this family. That's why he came up with a plan. Just like after the aluminium foil incident. They won't know what hit them until it's too late.
Phase one will start immediately. It is subtle. It involves presence. He has to remind them that he lives in this house too. He sits directly on whatever the tall one and short one are looking at. Laptops. Books. Tables. And Pebble reclaims space. He sleeps in the middle of the couch. Stretched long. In the tall ones spot. He pretends not to hear when she calls his name. When she tries to move him, he becomes heavy. It's a skill. A very old skill. A skill the fuzzy one doesn't know about. Yet.
For a moment, it works. The tall one scratches him. He purrs. Then the fuzzy one attacks the tall one's hair. That brings Pebble to phase two. Noise. He starts meowing every time the tall one and short one rest. During the beloved bedroom time. During the night. Right when they settled on the couch. This brings him attention. Not always a positive one. But Pebble sees no other way to remind them he is also part of the family.
Phase three is more drastic. It involves chaos. Knocking things over. Vomiting on the rug. Getting into Mochi's way. He can feel the tall one and the short one are getting nervous. Pebble can see them discussing quietly in the kitchen. They look from him to the fuzzy one and then back to him. Then they walk over to the couch where the fuzzy one sleeps.
Pebble approaches the couch. The fuzzy one is sleeping on a pile of blankets. Twitching. Dreaming. The shortest one sits right next to him with a dreamy look on her face. The short one and the tall one look at both of them with love. A happy family. Only Pebble is missing. Maybe it's time to drive the message home. Pebble jumps onto the blanket pile. The fuzzy one wakes up with a squeak. Chaos erupts.
Hands grab. Voices rise. The shortest one gasps. The short one rushes in. Pebble is lifted. The look passes between the tall one and the short one. The silent one. The tall one rubs her face. Says something about this isn't working. Pebble's heart sinks.
Later that day Pebble notices something has changed. He is being fed first. The tall one sits with him on the couch. Pets him. She watches him instead of the fuzzy one. The shortest one whispers that he is still her favorite one. He doesn't need to be the favorite one. Just being part of the family is enough.
Pebble decides to offer a sign of peace. He jumps from the couch. Walks over to the bed that Mochi is sleeping in. The fuzzy one wakes up. Looks at Pebble with wide eyes. Trusting. Stupid. Pebble does not hiss. Instead, he lies down next to the fuzzy one. The tall one and the short one freeze. The fuzzy one presses closer to Pebble. He sighs. This is not surrender. This is strategy. He grooms the fuzzy one once. Just once. Rough tongue. The short one melts. They think they are bonding. Pebble closes his eyes. Let them think that.