I was adopted by a kitten.

Writer\s Cramp - April 11, 2025 - Pampering My Pet

         I heard a soft meow beside the bed when I first fell asleep. I looked down and saw the kitten we had purchased for the boys. She still had the red bow around her neck. It was still unnamed, as a fitting one wasn't suggested.
         I got up and carried the kitten to their room, putting her in her little bed next to the boys' bunk bed. As I left, I looked behind me and saw I was followed. I again took her to her bed and told her to stay. That always seemed to work when I told the dog the same thing.
         She didn't think I was a person to be listened to, as she was already following me. I decided to go back to bed, and when she grew tired, she would return to her bed. I didn't know anything about kittens.
         I saw the kitten wasn't going away when I got to my bed. Wanting to get to sleep, I picked the little furball up, put her in the middle of my wife and me, and covered up.
         As I lay there, I felt a little body walking on me toward my exposed head. I thought she would either lie down or fall off. She did neither. She approached my shoulders and head and began playing with my ear. By playing, she was swatting it with her razor-sharp talons of pain.
         Trying to outsmart her, I picked her up, gave her love, and placed her under the blankets with us- erroneously thinking she would settle down and fall asleep. Mark another point for the kitten.
         I felt her move around under the blanket, walking up and down the bed between us. After a bit, I didn't feel any movement, so I thought she had settled down. As I was about to fall asleep, her talons grabbed my foot, and her jaws of torture attacked my toes.
         Seldom have I ever moved so fast.
         Throwing the covers off and rolling out of bed, I searched for the kitty ninja to place on the floor. As I apprehended her, my wife inquired about my problem and why I was so fidgety. I told her about the kitten and our encounters, thinking she would feel sorry for me. She told me to put socks on and let the kitten sleep with us.
         The next day, I noticed the kitten following me, wanting me to pet her or let her sit in my lap. At this time, my wife gave me the unwelcome news: the kitty had adopted me as her surrogate daddy. Never been a cat person, I winced at the thought. I was more of a pet rock a person.
         After having a kitten shadow, my eldest son asked me what I had named her. I said, "Cat." This didn't go over well with anyone.
         After deliberation, I name that tiny little fluffball "Spot." It just felt like the right name for her.
         I knew she had adopted me as her dad when one morning, as I was taking my shower, she jumped in and sat behind me, getting very wet all the while. She didn't try to leave. She just sat there waiting for me to finish.
         I also knew I had become attached to Spot when she got outside when the door to the backyard was left open. I searched and searched for her, calling her name, her squeaky toy, and catnip, finally resorting to cussing. She didn't come back until the next day. Sixty-three days later, Spot gave birth to three kittens.
         I was upset. How could she get pregnant? Looking back, I am uncertain what my emotions were: hurt, betrayed, or upset.
         As Spot grew, I became increasingly accustomed to her presence. She still slept with me, but now, she would lie on top of me, no matter what my sleeping position. She would always come when I called her--this frustrated my sons because she would ignore them. She purred loudly whenever she sat on my lap or lay on me in bed.
         I bought little cat toys, catnip, different collars, and an automatic water dish. I didn't consider this spoiling her; she needed these to survive.
         When I pick up one of my sons from school or their job, I bring Spot. I had a small blanket on my dash, where she lay. Occasionally, she would perch herself on my shoulders and purr.
         As Spot grew older, she would like to sit with me in my recliner while I watch TV or read. If she weren't with me when I sat down, she would come quickly when she heard the footrest ratcheting into place. There she would lay, between my knees with the little cover I had bought for just this occasion.
         Spot had a distinctive purr. It was louder than the other two cats we adopted after Spot. While Spot was a very laid-back soul, she didn't like it when any of the other two cats were near me. She wouldn't resort to violence. Instead, she would get between me and whoever drew near.
         In her later years, jumping up on our bed became difficult for her. To make it easier for her to join me at night, I bought a small stool that allowed her to access the bed.
         After sixteen years, Spot passed away. She was on my lap and purring.
         I still think about her. Her love and devotion to me. I will never forget her: the cat that adopted me.



Contest: Writer's Cramp
Words: 950