Mithmeoi

As of late I’ve been inspired to write a little, so I’ve decided to write a short story about my Oliver. Just to warm up again, it’s been years since I last wrote anything of much significance. I won’t say it’ll be exciting or even that interesting, but hey, feel free to read if you’d like. I will break it up into little chapters for easier reading, and by little I mean little.

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My dad was military, so inevitably that meant moving. We had been living on Edwards AFB, CA when he got orders to transfer to Peterson AFB, CO. That’s roughly a two day drive by car for those unfamiliar with the space between those states. So we packed everything up in our 4Runner and little one axle trailer and left for the Rockies.

Now my parents still had a cat of their original trio, Midnight, he was about eight-teen at the time we moved. My family has always had a cat. In fact there was never a moment growing up that we didn’t have at least one. Usually we had three, and at one time four. To keep each other company and then each person of the family can have their own cat. Though, as most who are familiar with cats know, the cat has to choose you specifically. So sometimes there was an imbalance, but typically my parents would have their own cat and I had mine. So with that in mind, they knew Midnight would not be too much longer for this world so they went on the hunt for a kitten, specifically one for me. I’m an only child, so a kitten would keep me company. They had two requirements, it must be male and either grey or black. Well one day my mother received a call that a grey kitten had just come in, they invited us out to take a look at it. I was just ecstatic at the thought of getting my very own kitten. Excitement rippled through me, this was a first!

After what seemed like forever to a child of seven, we got in the car and drove to the place. As we were welcomed in there was a small grey ball sitting on a table, and I loved him from the moment I saw him. The lady told us that one of the workers had named him Oliver. I liked that too, so it stuck. He had been dumped, how anyone could just throw away such a lovely cat I will never understand. After a bit of talking they got to the business of adopting him. The feisty little kitten pounced on the pen as my mother and the lady filled out paperwork. The workers there were sad to see Oliver leave, but they were happy to know he had a family now.

He was slipped into a little cardboard carrier and I got the job of sitting next to him in the car to make sure he would be ok and not tip over. Though the whole time I kept trying to get into the box to play with him. He would slip his little feet and legs through the holes in the box to get at my fingers, and every once in a while I’d catch a glimpse of tiny greenish-blue eyes looking up at me through one of them. I couldn’t wait to get him home and out of there to play with him. I think he was quite tired of the box himself, he would let out a few protesting squeaky meows on the way home announcing that he was ready to come out.

This was my first cat. My first friend since I had moved. I didn’t even know how much he’d come to mean to me as years went by, but this was the start to a wonderful relationship. A relationship between me and a cat named Oliver.