Osho and Spooky: A Cat Love Story Part III

Osho woke up one morning to a cold bed. Spooky was gone. He jumped from the floor to the arm rest of the lounge chair, scanning the room. Her hair covered the sofa and the carpet, but there was no sign of her.

He meowed in dismay. The girl-person ran down the stairs and smoothed her hand over his back. Normally it would calm him, but without Spooky he felt empty and alone. She spoke to him in soothing tones, but he couldn't understand what she said. Normally he didn't care to know, but today he wished he had the ability to grasp people-speak.

His meow mix sat uneaten in the bowl. The girl-person offered him tuna fish, but he couldn't bring himself to eat anything. He paced the windowsills, looking for a glimpse of Spooky's black flecked fur among the bushes. Did the girl-person forget to let her back in? Would she freeze outside?

He meowed to be let out, but the girl-person grabbed him in her arms and brought him upstairs, muttering more gibberish. She plopped him down on her bed and closed the door behind him. Osho pounced down and clawed at the door. Why was she being so cruel? He jumped on the widowsill and pulled down the fabric of the curtains, leaving long strings of threads on the floor. Nothing consoled him, even destruction.

Day turned into night and Osho thought the girl-person had forgotten about him. He would die in this forsaken bedroom and never see Spooky again. Drifting off to sleep, he heard the girl person's voice on the other side of the door. The door opened and she called his name.

"Osho."

He snuck up to the crack in the door, suspicious. What did she have in store for him next? As she stood by the door and waited for him to come out, he heard a distant meow, Spooky's voice! Sliding through the crack in the door, he rounded the corner and there she was, curled up in a basket.

Only she wasn't alone.

Beside her squiggled four little kittens. Three of them had Spooky's black flecked fur, and the fourth had his own mottled gray coloring.