Four. I May Be Trapped Forever as a House Cat

I climbed up into the front seat of the sedan and pawed open my savior’s glove compartment. I learned his name from the car registration. It was Jason Galanis, the perfect name for a perfect, blue-eyed wolf boy. He does have the flaw of being completely oblivious though. He never took an interest in the fact that his new cat was reading through the documents in his glove compartment. He just told me to “Quit playing with that.” then remarked “I need to find you a crate for the next car ride.”

I did not distract him so much that we crashed though, and I never shifted back into fully nude Cassandra, no matter how I strove for it. I did imagine it happening, and then yes, I did picture the two of us having sex in Jason’s car. That daydream left me feeling very womanly, yet still it did nothing to eliminate my kitty claws and full-body fur. It just started me purring.

I’m starting to think I may be trapped forever in the shape of a common house cat. Maybe I did actually die and briefly turn into a ghost last night, and now I’ve been reincarnated as a kitten. That doesn’t explain my quick minute as a lynx of course.

Maybe the lynx was a were-cat, and I’ve been infected with permanent cat taint in my shifting.

Or maybe this is all the deranged dream of a dying mind, and the cops will find my body bleeding out at the base of that tree.

I wonder if Heather called them after I failed to show up to open with her then failed to answer my phone. Of course, I do joke with her a lot about quitting by just ghosting our corporate overlords and moving to a new town. She’d make a better manager than me anyhow. I’m a disorganized drop out. She has goals and real friends she keeps in touch with.

I have next to no one, and maybe no one will come look for me.

Even if they do, there’s definitely no one who will suspect the classy witch who walked into our cafe one day of being the one to kidnap me.

I curl up on Jason’s passenger seat, and I would have been tearing up and sniffling, if cats could produce a proper pity cry that is. I don’t think their tear ducts work like that though, because all I managed was a sneeze.

“Bless you.” I love that Jason told a cat that. I love how gentle and caring he is, and I was thinking it was maybe a good thing that he couldn’t see the real me, because this cat-face is much cuter than my actual one, and he is way out of my league.

We were barely inside city limits when Jason pulled over outside a rather rundown looking building with a peeling sign in blue paint over the doorway that read ‘mal cl-n-c’ And if you can’t guess what that is, it is an animal clinic. He was dropping me off at a shelter.

I bounded to my feet the second I made that realization and let out an angry, high “Rooowr!” I don’t want to spend the night locked up in some stinking cage. I don’t want to be adopted out to some rowdy family with kids who are going to pull at my fur and yank on my tail. I thought Jason would take care of me, and I bloody need him to until I can figure out a way to ask him HOW DO I TRANSFORM BACK INTO A HUMAN?!

“Whoa, calm down, kitty.” It is Cassi! Cassi the shape-shifting barista, not an actual cat! “I need to get you inside, alright?”

He went to lift me out of the car, and I scratched his treacherous hand, leaping over him with my springy little legs and shooting off into the alley between buildings.

“Damn it,” he muttered, stalking after me.

I hadn’t run far. I was crouched beneath the heavy, stinking dumpster, determined to not let wolf-boy out of my sight. I would tail him stealthily to his home and find a way to keep by his side until he answers my every question and helps me turn back into a human.

“Come on out, kitty. You like me, remember? Thought we had an understanding.”

So did I. Then you tried to send me to the pound.

Jason stays crouched most patiently by that dumpster for an admirably long stretch of minutes, waiting for me to come out. I glare at him and refuse to be coaxed, so he starts to his feet and pulls the dumpster away from the alley wall, stripping me of my cover. I shoot off at a sprint and take new refuge inside a nearby cardboard box.

Jason gives a heavy sigh. “Alright, kitty. Just stay there then. I’ll bring you a treat. Everyone loves a treat.”

He heads inside the animal clinic and comes back about five minutes later with a little bag of Temptations. Not nearly as tempting as the urge to cuddle up against his bare body, I will tell you, even with the cat senses.

A man in a lab coat comes out to join him a few minutes later. He’s probably a vet tech in this clinic, even though his baby-face looks to be no older than Jason, like a kid still in uni. “Hey, Jase.” I just love the sound of that. It’s such a nice, one syllable nickname. Jase and Cas, the wolf and the cat... “Still no luck luring out Miss Kitty?” Miss Kitty is Cassi, thank you very much.

All that comes out as I think that is: ‘Rowr’ and I decide we humans most truly underappreciated the wonder of a voice box capable of speech.

“I can’t just leave her out here, Nick.” Jase sighs, lowering the treat bag in defeat.

“Why not?” Nick offers in callous response. “You found her in the woods, no collar or tattoo. Odds are she’s feral. Could have given you rabies with that scratch.”

How dare he assume I have rabies! I’m not some alley cat stricken with mange! Even in shadow, he can see how adorable I am. I snap a swear at him in cat sounds, and it comes across pretty clear. It’s a rather unmistakable timber when a cat tells you to F right off.

“Don’t think she likes you much, Nick.” Jase laughs, and it is such a charming and wonderful sound that I calm right down, fur unprickling.

“Well she ain’t coming out for you either, man.” Nick certainly didn’t talk like a vet. He talks more like a frat boy, and he gives up on rescuing my adorable cat self within ten seconds flat. “Come on inside already. I need your help with our new in-patient.”

Wait, does Jason work at this clinic? He wasn’t just dumping me off here, he actually works with the vet?

Jason reluctantly follows his friend back around front of the building, and I shoot right after them. He slows, turning back to me with a smile. “Changed your mind then? You want a treat after all?”

‘No, I want to find a way to communicate with you.’ I knock the Temptations right out of his hand in clear point, but… they smell unfortunately delicious to my cat nose, and that makes me all the angrier. I will not start eating kibble. I am a human being, so even if I feel like I am starving to eat something… I demand canned tuna or some other bi-species food.

“Sassy cat,” Jase clucks.

“Aren’t they all?” Nick retorts, pulling open the door of the rather deserted looking clinic. “Anyway, I thought you were a dog person?”

“I am an all type of animal person,” Jase counters. “Cats just don’t usually like me.”

Probably because you smell like a dog, and like… delicious manly musk. But I am not a cat, and I will show you that. Just give me something to write with. And like… some opposable thumbs, otherwise I won’t be able to move the pen.

We head inside the animal clinic, but I keep my distance from Jase and Nicky the vet-tech, in case they try to put me in a cage. I spot a computer and think ‘There’s my window to type a message.’ Assuming I can manage to open a word processor with these little cat paws.

I haven’t even made it onto the desk though, when a rabid dog tries to take me for his dinner.