Published at: 12ShortStories.com
Monthly Prompt: cut the strings Word Count: 1,000
BETRAYAL
by T.R. Kisgen
It was winter when Cindy found me and brought me home. I was hungry and freezing. She called me Dixie. Mom and Dad fed me and made me feel like I belonged.
I learned that pleasing Dad was important. Dad controlled the treats.
Mornings I greeted Dad and also when he came home from work at night. His big hands would rub my head, travel down my back, to my strong tail. I would reward his attention with my loud purring. I never begged for Dad’s food and he liked me. The family played games together, especially with toys, boxes, and newspaper. And when Dad was happy, he gave me sausage bits for a treat.
I had true freedom. By scratching at the door I would ask to go out and then again to come back inside. I often wandered several blocks before returning home. I enjoyed observing and hunting birds, squirrels, and mice.
While taking a stroll one day I noticed a handsome black male. He glanced at me but kept moving. He wasn’t like the other boys in the neighborhood who enjoyed chasing me at top speed. This guy had confidence and seemed older somehow. I found him very attractive and I took more walks hoping to see him. He seemed to always be near but never approached, always on his own mission. He was cool.
After a few more times of seeing each other, he began waiting for me and would join me on my walk. He showed me places I had never seen and we hunted together. He chased off other males who showed interest in me. We spent much time together and I only went home to sleep.
When my belly began to expand, Mom and Dad seemed displeased.
“How did this happen? Dixie is pregnant! What are we going to do?”
I recall Cindy walking in on their conversation and she had the opposite reaction. She jumped for joy. This caused Mom and Dad to nod and hold hands.
They were smiling when Mom said “After this we’ll get her spayed.”
—–
Two months passed and I woke with pains. I made a place under Cindy’s bed. It was stuffed full of dirty clothes which provided a soft nest. I very quickly delivered two babies. The sweet smell of new life and baby noises woke the girl. She peered at us with a flashlight. I growled to warn her away. This was hard work for me and I could not be distracted.
When Cindy got ready for school she peeked under the bed.
“Hi, Dixie – it’s okay, I won’t touch them. Mom told me not to. You know I won’t hurt them. They are so cute! Oh my – I can’t wait to hold them.”
I started to purr so she knew I trusted her. I now had four babies. The girl seemed very happy. She left the room and I delivered my fifth baby.
Later in the day Mom visited me. She lied down on the floor for several minutes just staring at the ceiling. Eventually she turned over to make eye contact.
Mom whispered.
“So you have five babies. They are black and white like you but one is champagne colored – how interesting. You rest now but soon you will need to eat. Cindy won’t bother you. Don’t be afraid to leave them alone for a few minutes. You have a safe place here.”
I fell asleep while my babies nursed. Still, life was good.
That night Cindy ran to her bedroom as soon as she got home. She used her flashlight to see us.
She squealed with delight.
“It’s true. You have five babies! Let’s see, which one is my favorite? I don’t know. I want all of them.”
Thinking back, I should have realized what she was saying. She wanted all of my kittens but Mom and Dad would keep just one.
Mom visited again in the afternoon but this time she reached in and took one of my girls. I started purring to demonstrate my trust even though my anxiety was high.
“This one is special. I think she might be Siamese. I’ll name her Bubbles.”
Her interest gave me false security. I thought producing something ‘special’ meant love for my kittens. I was wrong.
Once they got bigger and became playful, Dad showed his pleasure with the babies. He declared that my nursery under Cindy’s bed was insufficient. He built a pen inside the bottom of her closet. He took the door off so it was open. Then he laid a soft blanket on the closet floor and bunched up the edges against the corners of the wall. He put a short board across the opening so that I could jump over it while it would create a barrier for the kittens. This new nursery provided us with more space as they grew bigger and became mobile.
At five weeks of age, my group roamed the house freely and began sampling food from my bowl. By six weeks they no longer needed my milk but still suckled. They were growing fast and provided our family with hours of entertainment.
—–
On a summer morning, Mom came into the living room carrying a box. She loaded my babies into it, one at a time. She didn’t ask me, or even acknowledge me. She put four of my babies into a box and closed the lid. The kittens were loud and began clawing at the cardboard. Mom moved towards the door and Dad picked up his car keys.
I sprinted and jumped on Mom and clawed at the box. Dad knocked me away.
“Dixie, it’s okay. We’re leaving you Bubbles. We can’t keep them all – time to cut the strings.”
The door closed in my face so I jumped onto the windowsill. I watched helplessly as the car drove away. My girl joined me and we grieved together.
—–
I won’t ever trust Mom and Dad again.