Nine Lives by J. Combs

What if your cat suddenly developed intuition, reasoning, and common sense? Do you think he would continue to settle for a bowl of warm water and a can of dead fish? Think about it!

From the day she was born, her owner knew that Missy was different. She was a cuddly, sweet kitten just as every other that had entered the world, the tiniest in a litter of five. Four were completely white, just like their mother, but Missy was black as a night in the jungle. Except for her right ear, which was white as snow from the base to the tip.
On her third day in this world, Missy accidentally bit down on one of her mother's nipples. The mother cat hissed and ran for her hiding place under the bed, as four white kittens were flung from her underside as she dashed. Missy was not yet able to focus on her world as she moved about the room on shaky legs. She sniffed the floor as if looking for something, the way all baby animals do when they stray from the safety and comfort of their mother. She sniffed out each litter-mate and lay down on top of them.

When her owner returned after a twenty-four hour mini-vacation, he found four lifeless white kittens strewn about the room. Curled up in a ball under the sofa, Missy was sleeping soundly. The mother cat was still under the bed. When he tried to coax her out, she simply raised her head and hissed at him.

Eventually, he got the mother cat by placing a blanket over her and dragging her out from under the bed. He took the kittens and their mother to the veterinarian. The doctor revealed that the four white kittens had somehow suffocated. Due to the unattended bite that the mother cat had received from one of the kittens, infection had set in and given her a fever. They were unable to save her. Missy however, was one of the healthiest kittens the doctor had ever seen. Deeply saddened, the owner took the orphaned kitten home, with instructions from the doctor about how to care for such a young kitten with no mother.
At six months old, Missy was still not litter box trained. Her owner spent sometimes an hour or more with her immediately after meals or a play session, trying to coax her into the litter box. Time after time after time, he would put her in the litter-box. She would jump out, squat beside it, and do her business on the floor. She simply refused to use that box. He finally settled for placing a wide expanse of newspapers around the litter-box. It worked, at least for a while.

One evening, he returned from work to find a pile of cat poop on the coffee table. That night, he put Missy out on the porch to fend for herself.

Missy sniffed around and walked to the end of the porch. She looked back at the door as he peered through the curtains at her. He noticed that she seemed to be smiling at him as she squatted and peed on the 'Welcome' mat. Then she sauntered off the front porch and jumped into the open window of his car where she spent the night.

* * *

When the little girl saw Missy, she immediately fell in love with the cat.
"Oh, mommy! Look at this one. I think she likes me!"
Missy purred loudly as she rubbed against the front of the cage and the little girl put her fingers through the grate to touch her.
"She's an older cat, sweetheart. Are you sure you wouldn't like to have a kitten?"
"No, I want this one, mommy," answered the child.
"There is a story behind this one," said the attendant. "The police brought her into the animal shelter from the scene of an automobile accident. Apparently, she was in the car with her owner. After the accident, she jumped through the broken window of the car, and sat on the side of the street until the police arrived.
"What about her owners?"
By now, the child had opened the cage and was holding Missy as the cat licked the child's face.
"Look, mommy . . . I told you that she liked me!"
The attendant leaned close to the mother and whispered, "The owner didn't survive the accident."
"You're kidding! The poor thing must be lost with out them."
The child sat down on the floor and played with the cat.
"Well, I suppose we'll take her, if you're sure this is the one you want."
"This is the one, mommy!"

On the way back home, the mother stopped at a pet store and picked up some food, a new litter box, a bag of kitty litter, and a feeding dish. When they got home, the mother helped the child prepare the litter box as Missy ate the entire can of cat-food that the mother had put in the dish.
"My goodness! She certainly was a hungry little cat," commented the mother.
The child picked the cat up and placed her inside the litter box. Missy sniffed around a bit, then scratched out a place in the litter with her paw. She did her business and hopped out of the box, rubbing up against the child's leg.
"Well, that's a relief! At least she's litter box trained," said the mother. "What are you going to name her?"
"I don't know, mommy. I guess I'll try different names until I find one that she likes!" said the child. She skipped off to her room with the cat following close behind.

When the family sat down for dinner, the cat sauntered into the dining room and jumped up on the table. The little girl smacked her on the backside and the cat jumped down to the floor.
"No, no, no, cat! You're not allowed on the table!" said the little girl as she shook her finger at the animal.
"Little missy needs to learn some manners, I see!" said the father.
"It'll take her a little while," said the mother.
"That's it, mommy! We'll call her Missy!"
"Good idea, honey," replied her father.
Then the child shook her finger at the cat again.
"You are not allowed on the table, Missy!"
The cat meowed once and left the room.

That night, when the child crawled into her bed, Missy jumped up there with her. The girl petted the cat as it arched her back in approval. Then she kissed the cat on the head, picked her up, and sat her down on the floor. Missy jumped back up on the bed in defiance. The child spanked the cat on the backside and pushed her off the bed.
"No, no, no Missy! You can't sleep on my bed! Mommy said you'll get hair all over me!"
The cat meowed once and crawled under the child's bed.

The next day, when the child came home from school, the mother had prepared a snack of milk and cookies.
"These are for you," she said.
"Can I give Missy some of my cookies?"
"I suppose so," answered the mother.
As the girl sat at the dining table eating cookies and milk, she broke one of the cookies into small pieces and fed them to the cat. Afterward, the girl went into her father's den to do her homework at the computer. After the girl turned on the computer, she gathered her books and sat down to work. Missy jumped up onto the desk. The girl pushed the cat off the desk and onto the floor. The cat looked up at the child, and meowed once.
"No, no, no Missy! Daddy wouldn't want you on his desk!"
Missy simply meowed again and wandered off to some other part of the house.

"Mommy, can I go out and swim in the pool?"
"Did you finish your homework?"
"All finished."
"Yes, for a little while," replied the mother. "Go put on your bathing suit."
"I'll stay in the shallow end."
As the child dressed for swimming, Missy sat and watched.
"Come on, Missy! I'll show you the pool!" The girl ran through the house and out the back door.

The child ran to the shallow end of the pool and jumped in, splashing water everywhere. Missy stepped back a few paces as some water landed near her paws at the edge of the pool.

The girl moved to the edge of the pool and called Missy over to her.

"Here kitty, kitty . . . here Missy," coaxed the child.

Unable to resist the high-pitched 'kitty, kitty,' Missy cautiously walked over to the edge of the pool. When she was close enough that the child could reach her, the girl swooped the cat up into her arms and tossed her into the middle of the swimming pool.

Missy started paddling furiously as she swam to the edge of the pool. She climbed out of the pool, soaking wet, and started licking herself to remove the excess water from her body. The girl was laughing and splashing around in the water, excited that her cat knew how to swim.
After playing in the water, the child got out of the pool, wrapped a beach towel around her body, and ran down the edge of the pool toward the house. Missy darted out from under a lounge chair and startled the child, causing her to lose her balance on the edge of the pool. As the girl fell, she screamed and hit her head on the edge pool, knocking her unconscious. Her small frame began to sink to the bottom of the pool, as blood from the wound on the side of her head began to give the water surrounding her body a pink tint.

Inside the house, the girl's mother turned off the vacuum cleaner and the motor wound down to silence. After she rolled the machine into the storage closet, she headed for the pool to check on her daughter. When she stepped through the door and onto the patio, she noticed the faint tint to the pool water in the deep end. Stepping to the edge of the pool, she saw the child's still body on the bottom.

She dove into the water and pulled her daughter's body to the surface. Placing her on the edge of the pool, she started to perform CPR. After ten minutes or so, she ran for the house to call for help.
Missy walked over to the child and sniffed the wet, lifeless body. Then she meowed once, and disappeared into the hedges.

* * *

Jack Strong was awakened from a deep sleep by the sound of something walking around on the tin roof of the old house. He sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbed his eyes, and yawned. His wife stirred from her slumber as well.

"What the hell do you suppose that is, Janet?" he asked her.
"I told you that I saw a raccoon in the big oak tree out back," she said, still half asleep.
"When did you tell me that?" he asked, as he slipped on his trousers.
"Last week, Jack," she defended.
"Go back to sleep. I'll get the ladder and chase him from the roof," Jack said, buttoning his shirt as he closed the bedroom door behind him.

He went out through the kitchen door and stumbled, still not yet fully awake, to the storage shed out back of the house. He pulled the eighteen-foot extension ladder from the shed, an old straw broom, and carried them around to the front of the house.

"Damn animals! I can't ever get a good night's sleep around here. This is the last straw!" He leaned the ladder against the house, then pulled the rope to extend it to the limit. With broom in hand, Jack started his climb. When he got to the roof, he was staring face to face with a cat.

"You're the culprit!" he said, as he lifted the straw broom by the handle and took a wide swing at the cat. Missy ducked and avoided contact with the broom.

As Jack Strong regained his balance and drew the broom back for another attack, Missy pounced at him. Finding her target, she extended the razor sharp claws on all four paws and started tearing at his face. He screamed and dropped the broom to the ground. Holding the ladder with one hand, he slapped blindly at the crazed cat with the other. Missy kicked her back claws, making deep incisions in the man's cheeks, while she pulled and scraped at his eyes and bit him on the nose.

Jack lost his balance, and felt the ladder start to fall backward, away from the house. Suddenly, Missy stopped attacking the man and jumped to the safety of the roof. As the ladder continued to fall, Jack tried to grab onto the gutter of the house, but missed.

His hands clasped the ladder so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He felt himself and the ladder heading for the ground. Suddenly, the ladder stopped mid air, touching the main power line that hung limp over the sidewalk. Sparks exploded from the point where the ladder touched the wire, and the electric current danced down the aluminum ladder and into Jack's body.

His hair started to smoke and a trickle of blood ran from the corners of both eyes. The body shook uncontrollably and the plastic watchband on his left wrist started to melt into the skin. In several seconds, it was over. The power line finished playing puppeteer and slammed the ladder and Jack's body to the ground.

As he lay there, his body smoking and bleeding profusely, Missy skirted the gutter to a small tree, then climbed down the tree to the ground. Crouching low, she cautiously moved over to the body, sniffing the ground for any sign of danger. When she heard the scream of a siren somewhere in the night, she meowed, ran out of the yard, and disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

The teenage boy held the blanket over the window to deaden the sound as he smashed it with his elbow. When he no longer heard the sound of glass hitting the kitchen floor, he threw the blanket on the ground and climbed through the window and into the kitchen.

Once in the house, he stood still, cocked his head to one side, and listened. The only sound he heard was the tick, tick, tick of an antique grandfather clock. Certain he was alone, he tiptoed through the house, surveying the contents as he moved. In the bedroom, he opened the jewelry case and took everything, filling the deep pockets of his army jacket. Then he went into the bathroom and cleaned out the medicine chest.

"There's bound to be something in here I can use," he whispered to himself.

In the dining room, he continued to fill his pockets with pure silver from the antique serving table.

In the kitchen, he went to the refrigerator and opened it. Seeing a six pack of beer sitting on the top shelf, he took one. He popped the top, took a long drink, then closed the door. As he turned around to leave, he saw Missy sitting on the kitchen counter, watching him.

"Damn, cat! You scared the living shit out of me!" he said, as his heart thumped in his chest and he gasped for air.

He walked over to the kitchen table, stretched out his hand, and let the cat sniff him. He picked her up and held her close, gently petting her. Missy closed her eyes and purred deeply to show her appreciation. As he walked toward the back door with her in his arms, he realized that he had left his beer sitting on the kitchen counter. Then he saw the microwave.

Grasping the handle, he jerked the door open, and shoved the cat through the opening. When he slammed the door, the light came on inside. He saw Missy's face pressed against the thick, glass door as her breath began to fog it up.

"Now what the hell are you going to do, cat?"

He opened the refrigerator, took the other five beers, and slammed the door shut. As he passed the microwave, he reached over and punched the 'start' button.

Standing in the yard, he popped the top on another can. After a long guzzle, he made a little 'meow' sound, and disappeared into the night. . .

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