The Boy And His Cat

By Amy Sadler

© 2019

Prologue

“This is a story all about a boy and his cat. That’s me, my name is Ginger, though that isn’t my real name, but for now, on with the story at hand. What? I hear you say, a talking cat! Yes that’s right I can talk, in fact I can do much more than just that, you’ll see. Anyway this boy is my pet, yes you heard correctly I did say he is my pet. Yeah, you humans always think that you are the owners of your own pets. I’m so sorry to have to break this to you folks, but that is entirely and completely wrong.”

“I’m sorry if this news comes as a bit of a shock for you humans, you may find it hard to swallow, or accept, or even be able to believe such a thing. I know that I am not going to be able to convince you, I won’t even bother to try. But maybe, just maybe after my telling you my story and that of my pet, you just may well believe me after all. We’ll see.”

“So, as the saying goes, on with the story. There once was an 18 year old boy who went by the name of Jason Young, he had short blonde hair, blue eyes, he was of a small build and he was 5ft 4in tall. Oh he did look ever so cute, I just merely helped him to look just a whole lot more cuter, that’s all. Anyway, Jason lived on his own, he did not get along with his parents, or his siblings, his older brother Jack and his eldest Sister Jill, I kid you not. My guess is, that it was either the mother or the father or both of those two, who had a strange warped sense of humour when it came to naming their human offspring.”

“Regardless of this, the fact was, was that Jason simply did not belong, the moment that he was old enough, his parents kicked him out of their home. But Jason was fortunate enough to get help in getting a flat of his own, he even got a job, a Kitchen Hand. Which was a very polite way of saying General Dog’s Body, as it saddens for me to say, that no matter how posh the title may have been changed over the years, like Kitchen Porter for example, the job was not to just merely wash and wipe the dishes, it was to do whatever he or she was told to do. Though on the whole, most who held such positions were mostly boys, as girls had far better sense not to want to go for those kind of jobs or ever want such jobs.”

“I simply know this not because of my human told me, or more to the point, he talked to me very often about his day at work, of course I already knew, as we cats know far more than what most think or believe about what we know and understand. I sympathised of course, no matter what my human did, he was clearly not very happy at all. It saddened me very greatly to see him be upset. I sensed however, that there was far more to his behaviour that made me realise, that it was not the job alone that he did that made him be so unhappy.”

“We cats do not know absolutely everything, no being does, there was only one way for me to get to know what was making my human be so sad. It was risky, I know, but I had to let him know that I could speak and let him know that he could truly tell me why he was so sad. He was not really all that sure himself, to be perfectly honest until one day. Well, we will get to that shortly. For this story is better being told from the very beginning.”