The Kitten
“You can’t keep the cat.” My husband was trying to gently take the stray out of our son’s hands. Most cats didn’t like werewolves, our pack was only familiar with Medea. This kitten had wandered right up to Roy in the yard and hadn’t left his side since. Nothing was notably off about it, it was friendly, too friendly like Medea. It just wanted to be loved.
I had let him take it inside so that I could find out who it belonged to. We had hastily taken him to the vet, but he wasn’t chipped. I voted to wait and see if his owners reported him missing.
“He’s under my protection.” Roy crossed his arms with a pout. He was five and certainly entirely human, making this all the funnier. Porsche snorted. She, Ben, and Warren had all been playing a board game with Roy to try and distract him from the situation at hand—knowing that Adam wouldn’t take to the idea of a cat in the house.
“You aren’t an alpha and you don’t speak for a pack.” Porsche tried to crush his dreams. He stuck his tongue out and looked straight at her as he licked the top of the cat’s head. The kitten’s eyes went wide, like it had no knowledge of what had happened. Even Porsche couldn’t keep a straight face, she cracked a grin and glanced up at her father.
“Oh, now we have to keep it.” She said, happily. I was laughing too, with the rest of the room save for Adam and Roy.
“I licked it.” Roy announced loudly. “I have claimed it as my own.”
“Honey, if I claimed everything I licked as my own, I would have been married several times.” Warren told him. The joke went over his head and Ben shot his typical partner in crime an amused glance. I snickered and turned to Adam.
“Mercy, tell him we can’t keep the cat.” He asked.
“Don’t look at me, it’s your behaviour that’s taught him this.” I raised my hands in the air in mock-innocence and he groaned.
“Mom had a cat when she moved in.” Porsche pointed out. “We have all the things we need.”
“Yeah!” I don’t think Roy knew why he was agreeing, he was just happy to have someone on his side. “We can keep the cat!”
“I didn’t say that.” Adam corrected. “Your sister is defending you.”
Roy frowned and lifted the cat up to his father. It was a humorous sight. The younger was on the floor, lifting the kitten incorrectly under it’s front legs so that its hind end dangled. The cat looked confused, but didn’t put up a fuss.
I could already tell it wasn’t the brightest bulb in the bunch.
“I see it.” Adam nodded. “It’s a cat. We can’t keep it.”
“He likes you.” Roy insisted. Adam crouched down so that he was finally at eye level with our youngest and smiled.
“I understand he likes me, but a cat doesn’t fit in a wolf pack.”
“I’m,” Roy announced, standing up and walking away. “Calling grandpa and starting my own pack.”
“With who?” I called after him, not breaking eye contact with Adam. He was certainly frustrated, but it didn’t wipe the grin off of my face.
“With this cat.”
There was a moment of silence as we all listened to the youngster climb down the stairs with the cat in his hands in order to call his grandfather. Porsche had hurried to help him, fearing for the kitten’s safety.
“All of our children,” Adam said slowly, “Jesse included, are like you.”
I shook my head.
“This one claims things. He’s all you.”
