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What a fat fucking cat.
That was the first thing to come to mind when Butch found this stray within a dumpster during a somewhat rainy night. The stray in question was shivering from the cold and was hungry– chewing on a piece of god knows what. Overall, the cat was… For starters, vulnerable. One of the reasons why Butch took the stray in and into his hideout out of pity–
and the fact that she wouldn’t stop following him.
The stray would even cling onto the fabric of his pants with her claws for a grip. Butch had tried to scold the cat off and kick her off his leg to no avail.
Inevitably, Butch gave in to those sad kitty eyes.
Now, it was about two in the morning.
The bathroom was a cramped space that was really just meant for one. But who is there to judge if Butch had five cats, plus one now, in a small apartment complex?
The landlord was surely not happy.
Especially the fact Butch would flip them off and slam the door in their face when confronted with the many complaints received.
And the fact he couldn’t exactly do anything or tell the cops or at least the sheriff.
Besides, there wasn’t any in this weird ass county.
Starting the water, Butch would hold his hand out to the water flooding down and rolling towards the drain, just to make sure the temperature was just right for the stray. Once the water was lukewarm, he’d position the bath plug over the drain for the water to fill the tub. All that needed to be done now was to get that cat and dump them in the tub. Easy enough, Butch thought to himself.
.
..
…
Out of all the cats Butch had ever trained in his life.
This morbidly obese kitten—
Managed to leave the most scratches all over Butch’s arms, legs and face… More than the amount the others would ever manage to leave on him.
So much for just getting the stray in the damn bath.
But was Butch mad? No. He was just a tad bit annoyed.
However, he had to admit.
The stray did have potential.
“Meow…” The stray whined in defeat, as Butch dropped her into the tub with a splash.
“Look… You hissed ‘n scratched at me, yeah?” the ruffian remarked, taking in the sight of the cat being nearly entirely submerged within the water. Butch reached out a finger to give the kitty a quick boop to her nose, only for his hand to be retracted when the stray unsuccessfully nipped at his hand. Amused, Butch added, “That just shows you got a lil’ bite in you. Like a fighter.”
Once he finished his sentence, he’d flick the head of the stray.
The stray mewed once more in response, this time, it sounded more surrendered.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Butch scolded lightly, scooping up some of the water and using it to rinse off any of the dirt and grime the stray had on their fur. After a couple more times of repeating the action, he would reach over to the bottle of cat shampoo. However, the stray would hiss at Butch and make an attempt to scratch him once more if he’d try to touch her again. Of course, Butch flinched, then flicked the head of the stray.
But to make her more comfortable, the ruffian made a move over towards the cabinet and pulled out a package of treats. Some sort of… Tuna type treat with salmon. For cats. Previously for his best thief cat who kept jumping and running around in order not to take that bath. As for where they are now? He had no idea. But, it may get this stray to stop biting and scratching like how it did to get that thief cat from avoiding taking a bath.
Butch tore the top of the thin sachet, holding it out for the stray who’d sniff it once or twice. The stray nipped at the snack like a hungered critter which gave Butch the opportunity to apply the soap at the neck to the back of the stray.
Once that was done, the ruffian used the water to rinse off the stray once again until the soap was off.
“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Butch commented under his breath, pulling the remaining plastic of the empty sachet away from the stray so they won’t choke or cause a blockage in their intestines. Afterwards, he picked up the stray by the neck and set them on the ground. He would remove the bath plug from the drain when he got the cat out of the tub and on the bath mat, allowing the water to be vacuumed into being drained into the hole.
Next thing Butch did was dry off the stray with a dry towel.
He should be done by now.
But the stray still let out a sad yowl. Which, Butch assumed was the stray's way of telling Butch they were hungry.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you somethin’ to eat. C’mon.” Butch beckoned, tossing the now wet towel to the side as went to open and exit the bathroom– expecting the stray to follow him, in which she did.
The kitchen had a good amount of space, it wasn’t that big but it was enough. And Butch wasn’t complaining.
The ruffian approached the cabinet beside the fridge, opening it to reveal about five to ten bowls. And since the stray was a blue cat, he ended up choosing the blue ceramic bowl to fill up to the brim with kibble.
Unsurprisingly, the stray started digging in almost immediately.
Butch made a mental note to restock on food later.
For now, he’ll just put the cat food in one of the cabinets the other cats won’t reach, plop down on the couch with a half-empty strawberry ice cream tub and watch the shitty television until he decides he wants to sleep.
And he did.
…
Was he forgetting something?
The dull light that emitted a warm orange light in the room flickered.
Probably not.
…
Butch watched as the film played on the screen. His attention eventually drew away from the old television screen once he heard the stray mew a mew. What is it now?
To his amazement, the cat was done with the food in a span of… Well, he didn’t keep track of how long it took for the stray to eat something of such a quantity but it sure was quick.
‘Right. That’s what I forgot.’
He didn’t name the stray yet.
Butch got off the couch with a grunt, dragging himself along the creaky floorboards until he was in front of the stray, peering down at them.
“If I was to pull a name outta my ass, what would it be?” He’d ponder outloud, picking up the stray, who’d stare into his eyes with the same, sad kitty eyes from moments prior. Butch dropped them onto the couch beside the folded blanket– in which the stray would claim as their own, climbing to the top and curling up onto it. There goes Butch’s covers.
“Aren’t you just spoiled?” Butch scoffed as he would sit right beside the kitten. He could just get a pillow from the supposed-to-be bedroom, repurposed and reserved for his other cats… Eh. No point in that. He doesn’t feel like getting up again. The ruffian slumped backwards into the cushioning of the couch, wondering what name would fit best.
“Tink? Nope, that just sounds stupid.” Butch paused, what was that thing you do to make names feminine again?
Just add a ‘a’ in said name.
Tinka just sounds more stupid.
“Tina.”
There we go.