Quick blurb I wrote from experience that happened to me nearly two months ago. Also, please fix your animals, even if you're waiting until the right age and have two animals of opposite sex to take the right-fuck I forgot the word, but the thing to make sure the two don't do the deed and repopulate.
I live within the Appalachian region, and I tell you the kitten boom is crazy right now, but it is also sad. But I'm also glad that a lot of rescue groups and shelters now are making people sign contracts that they have to bring the animal back to get them fixed, or they'll take the animal back.
Furthermore, please enjoy.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖
The alarm had gone off.
Twice.
Maybe three times until the realization had hit him that he had work today rather than it being his day off.
"Fuck."
The word burst from his mouth before he had even sat upright. He blinked at the digital clock on his nightstand as if glaring at it would somehow reverse time.
8:17 am.
"No, no, no—fuck!"
The apartment erupted into chaos as Milo tore through his apartment, hopping on one foot while trying to shove the other into his work pants. His toothbrush hung from the corner of his mouth. Numerous strings of profanity left him as he kept doubling back all around the apartment, the moment he got closer to the front door, believing he had everything before realizing he didn't. His work badge had somehow found its way into the bathroom, keys hidden beneath a pile of mail, which had exploded the moment he threw them up to grasp the keys, then ran back to the kitchen upon realizing he had forgotten his phone.
For the first goddamn time.
Late.
He had never been late.
Not once.
Not through blizzards, flat tires, power outages, or the flu that nearly had him hallucinating during his morning commute. Milo prided himself on being early. It wasn't something he'd ever spoken aloud, but he liked the quiet reliability of it. He liked routines. They made the world predictable.
"Oh, he's gonna be unbearable," Milo groaned as he yanked on his boots. "'Look who's finally joined the land of the irresponsible.'" He mimicked Asher's smug voice with a scowl. "'Didn't think you had it in you, Milo.'"
He could already hear the laughter and teasing. He grabbed his jacket, slung his bag over one shoulder, and practically threw himself through the apartment door. It slammed behind him with a thunderous bang that echoed through the stairwell, taking two or three steps at a time.
By the time he burst through the building's front entrance another colorful string of curses spilled from his mouth.
Rain.
Not a drizzle.
Not even close.
Sheets of rain hammered the parking lot, bouncing off pavement and rooftops in silver curtains. Within seconds, icy water soaked through his hair and jacket. "I heard rain earlier," he muttered bitterly as he sprinted toward his car. "This wasn't supposed to be biblical."
His shoes splashed through puddles.
Almost there.
He was almost there, if he sped a little, maybe ran a few lights, then he would be there just barely but on time, to avoid Asher's relentless teasing. "Mrrrrow!" Milo stopped so abruptly he nearly slipped. The cry came again, High-pitched, Desperate, "Mreeeeew!"
The cries were coming from his car. He stomped one foot against the wet pavement hard enough to splash water over his pant legs. "I was so close..." Milo grumbled, dragging his feet to his car, and crouched down, peering underneath his car, where he saw the tiniest ball of fur crouch down beside his car tire.
Its soaked fur clung to its body until it resembled little more than damp fuzz with enormous ears and terrified blue eyes. It cried as though the world were ending.
Milo pinched the bridge of his nose. "This'll take two seconds," he muttered. "Grab you, stick you in the bushes, your mom finds you, I go to work, everyone is happy as they can be, it's a simple plan."
He reached underneath.
"Come on, don't bite me..."
The kitten stared.
"...Or scratch me..."
It bolted.
Straight up into the engine compartment.
"...You little shit!"
Another volley of colorful curses echoed through the parking lot. He hurried around the front of the car, popped the hood, and pulled out his phone. The flashlight flickered to life as rain continued pouring over both him and the open engine.
The kitten's frantic cries echoed somewhere inside. "I hear you, but I don't see you," Milo growled as he peered through every little crack and crevice he could find. From the corner of his eye, he finally spotted it, the kitten had wedged itself deep between the engine block and a cluster of hoses, somehow choosing perhaps the single worst hiding place imaginable. "Found ya!"
"MEEW!"
"Yeah, yeah. I hear you." He sighed, carefully threading one arm through the cramped machinery, rain soaked his sleeve while grease smeared across his wrist. Eventually, his fingers curled gently around the tiny body. "Gotcha." The kitten hissed with all the ferocity its miniature lungs could muster. Milo snorted. "Oh, be grateful I even bothered to save your ass."
He pulled it free, cradling the tiny body instinctively against his chest while lowering the hood.
It was...Small.....Painfully small....
His hand nearly swallowed the kitten whole. The little creature trembled violently against him, rain-soaked fur offering no protection from the cold. Milo looked toward the bushes, then back at the kitten who had pressed itself against him.
"Oh fuck me..." Milo sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand before fishing out his phone and, by some luck, sending a quick message to David saying he had a sudden emergency and wouldn't be able to come into work today.
His streak of perfect attendance officially died thanks to this thing. The kitten let out one tiny, sleepy chirp. "Yeah," Milo muttered. "You owe me." He unlocked the passenger door, carefully set the kitten on the seat, then shrugged out of his work jacket. The oversized coat became an instant nest.
The kitten almost completely disappeared beneath the fabric before a tiny head poked out. A moment later... purring. Loud. Ridiculously loud for something so small.
Milo stared, "...Seriously?"
The kitten blinked slowly and purred even louder.
-
Walking into the store, Milo had every intention of buying only what was necessary until he knew what to do with the kitten. Instead, forty-five minutes later, he wheeled an overflowing cart toward the register, where the cashier smiled at him knowingly.
"Is this your first kitten?" she asked, scanning and bagging the items while cooing internally at the kitten wrapped in a jacket and sitting in the front seat of the cart. Milo cleared his throat as he pulled out his wallet. "Uh, it's a foster," he explained, but he was uneasy about the look she gave him. "Uh-huh, a foster, right, right," she chuckled.
Upon leaving the store and making his way back to his car, he felt his wallet had been personally assaulted.
-
Back at the apartment, Milo filled the bathroom sink with lukewarm water while the dryer tumbled several towels and blankets into warm, fluffy comfort.
The kitten protested the bath with great fervor, tiny paws pushing against Milo's hands and escalating squeaks into tiny growls. "You need this bath; you're covered in fleas," Milo insisted. An attempt to escape lasted half a second before Milo gently caught it again, receiving an indignant squeak in response. "Oh, don't argue." By the end of the bath, the water was filthy. Wrapped in warm towels fresh from the dryer, the kitten melted into the comfort with an exhausted sigh.
Later, bundled securely in soft blankets, the kitten lay curled in the crook of Milo's arm while he squinted at the instructions on the formula container. "...One scoop per..." he paused, scowling at the container before glancing back down at the kitten. "Is this a kitten or a human kid I have?"
He awkwardly measured out the powder, spilling some on the counter. He muttered another curse, tried again, and finally managed to fill the bottle. It was difficult to do everything with one hand, but he figured it was unnecessary to put the kitten down and disturb its sleep.
The kitten slept through everything until the rubber nipple approached its nose. Instantly awake, it latched onto the bottle with remarkable speed and force, tiny paws gripping Milo's fingers as it made loud, indignant eating noises, its ears wiggling adorably.
Milo watched in silent disbelief. "So much attitude packed into something that weighs less than my boot." The kitten ignored him as it continued to eat.
Milo laughed.
It caught him completely off guard.
The sound echoed softly through the apartment, blending with the rain tapping against the windows. He glanced down at the little kitten, determinedly battling its food.
"...Aggro."
The kitten paused only long enough to glare at him before returning to the bottle with renewed ferocity. "Yeah," Milo said, smiling despite himself. "Aggro suits you just fine."
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖
How it started VS How its going
