Klaw's Kitty

Binx had hardly woken from her string cheese and catnip stupor when she was tackle-pounced by Klaws. He rubbed his nose over hers and licked her lips. Pawing at her whiskers, he purred, “Hellooooo there, sexxxxxy” before starting to smooch on her like he was a 17-year old human boy in the back of the school yard. Binx reeked of catnip and string cheese, and she demonstrated all evidence of having partied all night. His whiskers stiffened as he pawed at her while searching suspiciously for any remaining catnip and cheese. “Brought me any of that?” he asked her.

With a non-descript sound, Binx blearily reached in her pocket and pulled out some warmed string cheese. She pulled off the pocket lint before offering it to him. Klaws inspected the cheese before tasting it while watching her stretch. She grabbed her backpack and pulled out a large bundle of fresh catnip. His eyes widened as she said, “A catnip dealer um..dropped it.” He looked directly at her curiously for a moment sniffing before his ears flattened and he glared at her.

The trouble with catnip is that, after the euphoric high wears off, one should sleep. And if they do not sleep sufficiently, the paranoia sets in. Klaws was in the process of wondering whether she had slept enough when she questioned him about who the kitty was that just happened to glance their way while walking down the street. Klaws facepalmed telling her that did not know and he was not surprised that Binx did not believe him. He started to interrogate her more about the catnip and cheese, but the only information he got from her was additional questions about every kitty girl who happened to walk by. Churlishly paranoid was simply annoying to him. Plus, she was not answering his questions! He pinched her rump and demanded, “Do not change the topic. Kitties and catnip…catnip dealers never just drop their stash. Nor does string cheese fall off trees.” Pawing at her tail, he grumbled, “So straighten out your story or at least give me one that is more believable.”

She grumbled, “So you *do* know that kitty.”

Grabbing her firmly in response, he pressed her against the chain link fence. “You are still trying to change the subject," he said. She mewed up and licked his lips before chewing on one of his whiskers. He twisted his face so she could not reach it and growled, “No getting frisky on me! I demand the complete story about how you got cheese and catnip.” He quickly shoved the chain on each side of her causing her to bounce back and against him quickly. Her tail wrapped around his waist and she purred as she licked his lips. The taste of catnip on her lips diverted him a moment. He licked her lips in return but only after she told him about the mayhem of the night before that left “Dealer Dalton” injured in the middle of the road.

Klaws grinned after the story satisfied his curiosity and then raked his claws over her tummy up to her chest. He purred, “Why not immediately give me the entire story?” She said nothing but continued to cuddle and he started to feel cuddlier as well. He glanced down the street. “As for that kitty that passed, I do not know her name, face, or family. Just random, I guess.” He shrugged making big eyes and felt her claws lengthen. Sleep, he thought. She really needed to sleep off her current high. Seeing that she was not placated with his explanation, he tickled her tummy and smooched her soundly holding her close. “Don’t be mad at me, you uber-jealous little power-bundle.” She pouted and he decided the best thing to do would be to kiss her until she slept or was happy again.

Binx’s mood did improve greatly. She crushed a few leaves of catnip from her pack and rubbed it on her lips. Another kitty girl approached only to speak and go. Binx narrowed her eyes at him again while he blinked at her with an innocent mew. She grumbled, “Kitty girls never come up to talk unless you are here.” Her tail flicked and her mood started to plunge again.

Wiping his forehead as if removing sweat, he stammered, “See? Now…Look. I had nothing to do with that person.” She twitched her whiskers with annoyance. He swished his tail as he watched her. Catnip lows, he thought sourly. “I didn’t kiss, talk, or flirt. I don’t do that with anyone!” She simply watched him. He licked her lips and pawed her playfully. She didn’t look amused so he looked left and right while thinking what he should do. More kissing, he decided before grabbing her tightly and exclaiming, “MY KITTY!”

Binx had heard that exclamation all of her life, and she smiled cuddling again and seemed thoroughly placated. Klaws barely remembered many things from when he was a small, but he remembered one thing clearly: The day Binx was delivered along with a few other kitties in a cardboard box to the Good Sister’s Foundling Center. He was but a toddler and had been waiting to show Sister Anne Marie the mouse he had caught. It squirmed miserably in his little paws while he patiently followed the good sister until he could have her undivided attention. Only this Sister had time to read bedtime stories, so she deserved to get to watch him kill the mouse.

When the box arrived, groans were heard from the sisters. Who had time to tend to another batch of homeless kits? Klaws looked in the box and saw the one red-headed kitten with its eyes still closed. Reaching in the box, he grabbed her exclaiming, “MY KITTY” and ran down the hallway to the room he shared with many others. He named her Binx and wanted her to play, but she was too little. He watched her eyes hoping they would open, but it took a few days before he saw their green color. The mouse waited for the occasion. Fed and fattened so that its demise was the first thing she witnessed immediately following his introduction and announcing that she was his.

Pulling her from the chainlinked fence, Klaws scooped up Binx after setting aside his memories for the moment. She fell asleep as he carried her to a rooftop and crawled into a cardboard box refrigerator box. She immediately slept and again Klaws smiled watching her. His thoughts returned to the foundling center and he remembered the box he kept her in when she was so very little. While waiting for her to sleep off the rest of her catnip high, he sniffed her over knowing that he had better never pick up a scent of anything or anyone he would not want to pick up. Satisfied that all was well, he ate the string cheese and chewed on a catnip leaf wondering if Dealer Dalton lived or died.