Sawyer Prefers Blondes by Amanda Leigh

And here is the last response to our cat adoption prompt from the point of view of the cat!! This one I wrote from the perspective of my adopted kitty, Sawyer. I hope you enjoy!! We love pets!!

 

Sawyer Prefers Blondes

Meowwww….

Sasha mewls next to me, and suddenly all the kittens are clamoring to get a look, climbing over each other. I peek and see that someone is coming through the door. People! Humans! One taller, with black hair on her head and tan skin. And then the little human walks into the room. She’s not a kitten…a child. But she is small. And has yellow hair, and something on her face covering her eyes. They are dark, like they’re blocking out the light. Her smile is bright, and the room lights up. She seems a little bit nervous, but mostly happy and excited. Her and the big human come into the room more. The little one walks a little bit off, more weight on her right leg. Her fingers twist together a few times.

One of the nice humans who takes care of us tells her to take a seat. And I know, I just know it. This one is mine. This is my human. Who I’m supposed to go home with.

“Hey,” I say to my friends in our way. “Don’t be too cute.” 

Meow. “Why?”

“Because! Because I found her, this is my human. I want her, need her to pick me!”

“The bigger one? Or small one with the yellow hair and the things covering her eyes?”

“That one. The small one! I want that one!”

My friends meow in agreement. When one of us knows, we just know, and all of the others are supposed to respect that. We don’t get in the other’s way when one of us knows a human is meant for us, and we’re meant for them.

I’m the first kitten she holds, and I get to see her eyes because she takes those things off of her face. They look blue, but not blue. Blue, but then sort of grey like a few of the kittens in here. They’re kind eyes, I like them.

The woman tells her to hold some more. No, I think. This is my human. She has to pick me.

The yellow haired girl holds only one more before she says she wants to hold me again. Yes! Yes, she wants to hold me again. I’m place into her arms and she smiles again. The biggest one so far. She feels it, too.  She knows she’s supposed to be my human, right?

“This one’s awful cute,” says the bigger human, about a different kitten. No, no, me. She has to choose me.

The girl agrees, but turns her attention back to me. I can feel it. She’s going to pick me, right? Right?

***

Not too long after. I’m in some sort of mini house made of the same thing the square things we like to play in are. And in this I’m seated on my new human’s lap, in a big metal thing that seems to fly. I hear other ones, too, and the noises scare me.

“Shhh. It’s okay. We’re almost home. It’s okay.” The little human’s voice soothes me. Her voice is soft, and calm, and I like listening to her. I don’t like this metal box that moves, but I like listening to the little woman’s voice.

 ***

When we get to my new home, I’m happy, I’m excited, but I’m still scared. It’s a new place. And there’s so much more room!

So many new things. I don’t know what to look at first. I want to run up to all of them, and sniff them, and play with some of them, but I stay in my little house instead. They set it down on the floor. I want to come out, but I’m still scared.

I start to come out more over the next few days, but I keep going back to my house box. (I heard them call it a box. That’s the word for it.) They show me my litter box. (I get my own!) They show me where my food and my water is. I go to that sometimes.  And they have toys for me already.

 ***

A few days into staying at my new home, I start to come out more, and play with my little yellow haired human. Seven times a day, she sits down and swallows many small things. They’re not food, and the bigger human doesn’t do this. They call it her pills, her meds. Sometimes she feels sick after the meds, I can tell. So I start to sit next to her when she does them, and start to crawl in her lap.

One day, my little yellow haired girl (Amanda is her name, but I start to call her mama in my head) is laying down on the couch (I heard the humans call it that) with a book (I learned that one, too. My human has a lot of them). She’s reading and sometimes talking to her mother (the bigger human!). I decide I want to be up there with her, too. So I jump up on the couch and pad over to her feet. She looks over the book at me and smiles. Her eyes go back to the book for a minute. I walk over her legs, up onto her stomach, and duck my head under the book to look at her. She smiles big and laughs. I walk right over her chest, and up onto her collarbone and shoulder, and lay down right there.

She holds her book out to the side, forgotten for the moment. Her mom takes out the little rectangle things the humans have and clicks a button. I don’t know what she did, but my human seems happy. She pets my fur and scratches behind my ears just right, and lets my stay on tip of her. She’s warm and comforting and my mama. That’s when I decide once and for all I made the right choice. This human was meant to be mine. I’m glad I adopted her. She has some issues, I can tell, but we’ll work through them together.