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“What is that?” Carlton asked nervously, pausing at the door. This had to be the wrong house. He hoped he was in the wrong house. But that was his sofa, and that was his collection of civil war portraits, and that was his boyfriend, Shawn, petting a dirty hairball in his kitchen.
“It’s not a what. It’s a who,” Shawn all but cooed, as he petted the ragamuffin. When Carlton didn’t respond, he deadpanned. “It’s a Komodo Dragon. What do you think?”
“I think it’s a dirty feline that has no business in my house.”
“Our house,” Shawn corrected.
“What is it doing here?” He set his bag by the door and hesitantly walked over to them. At least the cat didn’t smell like shit. It looked like it rolled around in a puddle of mud before it ended up here.
“I found this little bundle of joy outside, looking for a home. She looked like she needed a little TLC, and some tender love and care. So we’re gonna watch some house hunters while I feed her milk in a tiny baby bottle that I bought at the dollar store.”
“We’re not keeping that thing.” Carlton gestured to it, accidently getting its attention.
“Make sure she doesn't leap off the counter. I’m gonna get her something to drink.”
“Don’t give it my soy milk. It’s expensive and I don’t think cats should have soy.” It started sniffing at him. He let his hand hover over the counter. That's why you’re supposed to do, right? Then they trust you?
“Do cats drink water?” Shawn wondered aloud, half of his body in the fridge.
“How should I know?”
“There’s still a little bit of my regular, plebeian milk left.”
“I have a sensitive stomach,” He grumbled. It was getting too close. If it tried to jump his suit jacket would get all dirty. He was planning on wearing this jacket later this week. Her body was all muddy but her face was clean and orange, and dare he say it, cute.
Shawn snorted. “Do you see my bag? The bottle is in there.”
“Why don’t you just use a bowl. It’ll be a lot less messy,” And a lot less ridiculous. The cat was practically nuzzling him. “Stinky cat.” Carlton said in a soft voice.
“No, she’s a lovely baby.” Shawn corrected, trying to reach a shallow bowl on the top shelf, the kind that they barely used.
“Fat cat,” Carlton said, affectionately. He reached out to scratch the cat’s ears. It purred back at him.
“Noooo,” Shawn pouted and poured a little bit of milk into the bowl and put it on the center of the kitchen island. The cat stayed by Carlton, getting pets.
“Annoying, dirty kitty,” Carlton said leaning down so he was face to face with feline. The cat got up all close up to him and bopped him on the nose with her paw.
“You said kitty,” Shawn smirked, sliding up next to him.
“I said no such thing. ”
“Yes, you did.” Shawn said nudging him. He ignored him, scratching the cat's chin. She closed her eyes and purred at the attention.
Carlton looked over to Shawn, to see his soft smile, but that wasn't allowed apparently. It was only two seconds and she bit him out of retaliation. It wasn't deep, probably wouldn't need a band aid, but it still hurt. He hissed at the pain, and she hissed back.
They were about to get into a feline-human staring contest when Shawn started laughing. The cat looked over at Shawn who directed her attention to the bowl. “There’s a snack just over there just for you.”
The cat cautiously looked behind her and then scampered over to the bowl.
"This one's mine," Shawn said, smiling up at him. Carlton refused to blush.
“Where did you find her?” Lassie asked as he watched her sniff the bowl curiously and then start drinking like someone who’d just run a marathon. It seemed like she hadn’t had a meal in too long.
“Outside the Psych office. Gus said we couldn’t keep her in there. He still hasn’t gone over his jealousy over the cat from the suicide hotline case a few years ago. I couldn’t just leave her out in the cold.”
“Today had a high of eighty degrees.”
“And now it’s sixty. She has sniffed us. We have fed her. We are family now. She has joined our family. Congratulations, you’re a dad. We shall call her Ms. Kitty, or Ms. Kitty the Snuffle. Better yet, Ms. Kitty the Snuffly Cuddly Puff Ball of Love. We can call her Ms. Kitty, or Snuffly for short. If it was a dog, I'd name it Lassie.”
“Nope.”
“To which part?” Shawn asked not looking at him, reaching over to run his hand along her back, through her muddy fur.
There was a lot he could be saying no to: the temperature, the name, or the family part.
Shawn was right. They had to keep her now. She was so small and sniffly and it broke his heart a little bit to think about her in some animal shelter all alone.
“The name. We are not calling our cat Ms. Kitty.”
“Why not? It’s cute, logical, and a reference to a historical fiction character. It’s the best of both worlds.” Shawn smiled at him.
“I’ll think about it.” Carlton said, straightening up. He wasn’t as young as he used to be. After a long day at work and the crouching now his back ached.
“See that you do.”
“You should get her cleaned up. I don’t want her getting dirt and pollen everywhere.”
“Good idea. Come here, gorgeous girl. We’re gonna take a shower and get you all squeaky clean. We’re gonna sing rubber ducky and we’re gonna cute pictures with you all wrapped in a towel so I can put them all over instagram.” Shawn cooed as he picked her up and cuddled her to his chest. When she was all settled, leaning her head against his shoulder, he turned back to Carlton. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to get dirty later,” Shawn said with a wink.
Carlton rolled his eyes as he watched them retreat down the hall into his, their, bathroom.
This was a big step for them. They’d only been dating for a few months and everything was going great so far. Shawn was practically living with him. He had a key to his place and slept over almost every night. He still had an apartment that he used when he needed some space, but those days were fewer and fewer. He had started referring to his place as their place.
Adding a pet into the mix was a commitment. Although Shawn had given no indication that they were there and they hadn’t really had the relationship talk, this seemed like a gesture. Shawn was taking their relationship to the next level.
You don’t get a cat with someone that you aren’t serious with, right? He had the urge to google it but he could probably talk to Juliet tomorrow. She’d have an opinion and she knew Shawn better than some random yahoo answer nobodies.
He could hear meowing and hissing down the hall but it wasn’t his problem. Instead of lending a hand, he walked into the living room and plopped down on the sofa. Crossing his ankles on the coffee table, he sat back and channel surfed until he found an old episode of Chopped.
When Shawn was done, he’d probably come back out all wet and snuggle up to him and get him all wet. Then he’d dump the grumpy damp cat in his lap, and she’d be all annoyed but then they’d settle in and cuddle up. He’d fall asleep like the old man he was turning into. Shawn would wake him up in the most annoying way possible like the child he is. But his heart felt all fuzzy, and now they're a family, and they were having a cozy night in; he couldn’t complain.