Apple Cat Novels & Stories

my baby started and I in my head I was sure she'd name it something similar to kitty, cat, cookie, something easy. "Yes?" I say waiting patiently for her to come up with a name. "Tiger!" she says excitedly, picking the cat up and hugging it, and then it all clicked the orange tabby wasn't just a normal cat, small enough to be one sure, but it's a tiger, an animal that doesn't exist anymore, and if I remember correctly, they are the kings of the jungle more powerful than a lion ever been. "How did you know?" I asked Katie, I couldn't even remember the name of the animal and she was one of the generation after the nuclear disaster.

have found me so fast. She shoved the thought down. Hard. Across the yard, Jasmine and Kika were locked in a brutal spar. Jasmine—wild cat number 89—was dominating, landing elbow strikes and knee drives that had Kika (101) staggering. Serial stood at the edge of the mat, arms crossed, shouting critiques. “Too slow, 101! You fight like you’re scared of pain—newsflash, it’s coming anyway!” Jasmine swept Kika’s legs; Kika hit the mat hard. Serial barked a laugh. Then her gaze shifted. Landed on Riley. A slow, predatory smile curled her lips. “Oh look who we have here,” Serial called, loud enough to draw eyes from every corner of the yard. “The runaway wild cat. Quite surprising how out of the

So pure that even snow seemed dull in comparison. By the first day, Snowy opened his eyes. On day two, he started walking. And on day three, he could open doors, shred the milk box with his razor-sharp teeth, and drink all the fresh milk in the building. Leo and Luna were satisfied with raw food. Not Snowy. He only ate live prey. He drove the neighborhood's escaped hamsters to extinction, snapped up fish straight from hooks, and even hunted a neighbor's pet rabbit. My role as "cat mama" escalated—I was now the posthumous disaster manager: cleaning up after carnage, apologizing to neighbors, begging forgiveness, and still having to earn money.

“Want to check it out, then?” “Let’s see the alpacas and dogs.” Vivian jumped back in. “Honestly I prefer dogs too. Cats just meow at random, and strays are filthy. Well-bred cats are rare, though” “Really? Then you and my grandmother share the exact same hobby. She keeps a cat she’d call ‘well-bred,’ too.” Vivian missed the edge in Alex’s tone entirely, agreeing readily. “We must genuinely have something in common.” “Ha then you should head to the cat café instead. I’m not joining you there.”

“What’s her name?” Addy smiles, “that is Molly.” They both stop as they see the black cat run across the coffee table from one window to the other. Giggling she points at him, “that is Dutch. The two white Siamese, the big one is Chong and the smaller one is Taz. Then there brown tabby white Siamese is Quinn, she is a shy sweet hearted cat. Manuel looks at the bag she brought over, “wow is the whole thing full?” He asks, the bag was the size of a medium backpack.

My breath came fast and shallow, lips now dry. In the corner, next to a fallen bookcase, stood…an enormous male cat with shiny black fur. Emerald-gold eyes peered into my soul as he lifted his head to hiss at me. I blinked a few times. Yep, I've lost it. Because what I was looking at was a panther, and we didn't have panthers in Colorado. Unless I missed something, okay, remain calm. Remember your farm training. Who the hell was I kidding? This was a wild animal, for Christ's Sake.

“She’s survived worse.” “Hmm,” was an agreement hummed through his nose, his attention on something rustling within the folds of a semi-collapsed tarpaulin. Lyric drew closer to the rustling tarpaulin, starting to lean over spotting a glimpse of dark fur, thinking that someone’s pet kitten had been left behind. “Here kitty, kitty.” “Kitty-kitty?” Niarthen wondered. “Cat,” she said. “You know, meow, long tail, purrs. Domesticated house animal. Pet.”

"It's alright," she said, though she didn't mean it. "Did you hear that, Code? Your name's not so bad after all. Funny how you still ignore me when I call you." Jack chuckled. "What kind of cat is he? He's huge," Jessie asked while stroking Code with open curiosity. "He's a Maine Coon. Also, Ronny bought me that fluffy, intimidating one over there with the blue eyes. That's a Siberian." Jack introduced the cats one by one.

"Ahh!" She whipped her hand back, and Kevan looked down to see three obvious scratch marks on the back of her hand. The Ragdoll breed meant that Muffin's personality was one of clingy obedience. Although she liked playing with humans, she would never bite or claw at others like mischievous domestic cats. This was the first time she had done it ever since her birth.

He patted the cat who curled up to him. “This cat, Snowball, is an attention seeker.” He rubbed his belly. “Probably because he can’t find his mate.” “What about that calico cat? It’s a female right?” “Yes, and that cat is spayed. Look how chubby she is now. She’s healthier.” Echo smiled. Then, he stared at her for a long time. “Ella,” He called. “Yes?” “You haven’t given me any names, darling.” She was silent as she shook her head.