- Vol. 09
- Chapter 01
Your mother misses you already
Your mother gets you a cat because you’re eleven, just about the right time to learn to take care of something. The two goldfish you got catching plastic ducks at the fairground and flushed down the toilet two months later don’t count. Everyone knows fairground fish are trapped in plastic bags way too long; if anyone’s to blame, it’s her for letting you take them home.
Your mother gets you a cat because her coworker Annie’s big brown tabby keeps getting pregnant, and before giving kittens away to people she doesn’t like, she’d rather try once again with those who have already said no. Including your mother, who has already said no three times.
Your mother gets you a cat because you’re an only child, and perhaps everyone who says you need company has a point. So what if it’s not a baby brother? You were always the one asking for a pet.
Your mother gets you a cat because it gets boring in this house, where two people could live without crossing paths a whole day, but three used to feel like a crowd. Depends on who the third person is, she supposes. Her experience so far hasn’t been the best, she admits. A cat will take up a fraction of the space, won’t spend entire days parked in front of the TV, and won’t get into arguments when there’s not enough beer in the fridge. A cat will do just fine.
Your mother gets you a cat because you seem to understand the ground rules: not allowed on beds and leather sofas; no human food; neutered as soon as she's old enough. You promise you’ll fill bowls three times a day without fail, empty litter boxes, clean up vomit from stairs and carpets. When you say it, you believe every word. Your mother doesn’t, really, but she’d never let you or another living being down.