Bloody Mucus Cat Novels & Stories

Reed kept a hand against Don Gato's side, lightly rubbing his fur. Dr. Lyston finally entered the room. He at least looked at me after I answered the first of his questions. "We can do some blood work and take an x-ray to see if he has a blockage." A touch of censure entered his voice. "It's hard to tell by what I can see. If he was an indoor cat, you would know about his bowel movements and eating habits, but I can only work with what we have. His temperature is slightly elevated and he could be fighting off an infection."

He sat down and stroked the little cat: "Kitty, go home, don't run around like that." The little cat rubbed against his hand, constantly moaning. Because it was dark, Uri didn't notice that the back legs of the cat had been dyed red in a large patch. "Let's go back!" Uri said and quickly stood up. Just as he turned his back, a black figure get out of the alley. Not long after, a red blood flowed from the inside.

Maria sighed. "Nope, my bad. I took Fluffy out to the yard for a bit of play that day. Maybe it's too small or has a weak immune system. Also, the yard is kinda damp. Turns out, Fluffy ended up with some cat moss on its fur, so Mr. Toussaint took Fluffy to the pet hospital." Cat moss wouldn't exactly put Fluffy's life on the line. But it could make Fluffy shed fur, and in serious cases, the moss could spread all over its little body.

The cat comes out purring rubbing herself against Ghost's long legs. "She's a Norwegian forest cat. White ones are rare. They're usually tri-colored or dark gray," Leelie tries to sell him on it. "Made a dent in your pocket," "You better keep the hair under control," he points at me. He steps back and is about to walk out when the cat meows loudly. He looks back at her. The cat goes over to him rubbing herself on Jayk's legs. Jayk crouches down to pet her and I swear she falls in love with him in that instant because she rolls over pawing at him. He smiles rubbing her belly.

Inside a pair of pained eyes looked back up at me. “Meow.” “Oh... Selene....” I cried as tears fell from my eyes as I looked over the poor cat. It was covered in mud and blood, patches of fur were missing, and I could count almost all of its ribs. “What the hell did they do to you?!” I couldn’t even tell what color its fur was supposed to be, it was stained by mud. The poor creature started shaking again and I wrapped it in my arms protectively. “Well damn.” My brother whispered. “Come on, we should get it home.” I felt him grab my waist and pull me towards the car.

I turned to check the window above the sink, and to my astonishment, it wasn’t broken but ajar. Inspecting it closer, I noticed a broken mug in the sink, which I left there in the morning. I shut the window, grabbed a small bowl, and filled it with milk. I took it closer to the kitten but away from the fire so it didn’t curdle. The fur started to dry, and it surprised me that it was a vibrant red like mine. The kitten slept peacefully on the pillow, and I used that opportunity to finish washing my hair.

The cat flew off and landed with an excruciating 'meow', its mouth spitting blood. The ladies at the store gathered around the bloodied mutt cat, and some cried, "Oh, my God! Look at the cat, how could you do this?! It's bleeding!" Victoria remained unnerved, and she scoffed condescendingly, "This is a high class pet shop. How did this half bred get in here?"

Cameroon - I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even been near a cat, let alone held one. Yet here I was, standing in my doorway, cradling a tiny, furry creature in my arms while Trixie was halfway out the door, dressed up for her date with Dexter. The cat—Mr. Muffels—was purring away, totally unfazed by the fact that he’d just been passed off to someone who had absolutely no clue about cats. "So, what exactly am I supposed to do with him?” I asked, trying not to sound as clueless as I felt.

"Listen to me." Something in his tone stilled me. I didn't dare to move in his arms. He seemed to exhale softly, yet the grip around my waist did not loosen. He was still holding onto my tail with his free hand. "I once had a cat." He fell silent for a long time after that. In fact, it was so long I thought he wouldn't continue. Then, he spoke again. His voice was very soft, and he sounded almost nonchalant about it. "It was called Powder. It had pink and white fur, too. Just like you."

A contingent wave of bitterness and pain swept over me, and sent me crashing to the floor, my gown settling on my feet. I wept my eyes out, mucus drooled from my nostrils and when I wiped my face with my dress to continue my journey back home, I saw a tiny cat beside a bin, staring at me in a creepy way. I shushed it and it remained motionless. Moving closer, I observed the kinda white cat, its colour is darker than it should be, obviously, it was close to the bin. It cowered a little, not able to flee from the spot. I stooped down to inspect it carefully, also aware of my safety gap should it attack, and that was the point I noticed it was injured.