My Cat Wont Leave Me Alone Novels & Stories

The only other living thing in this world that I love is my cat. "Oh my God, Goose!" I scream, causing Pierce to look at me with a panicked expression. "My cat! I don't have anyone to feed him, or clean his litter, or give him those little treats that he loves! Please, Pierce! Please don't let my cat die." I beg him, my eyes filling with tears again. He puts his sandwich down and rounds the counter towards me, but I'm too panicked to worry about his close proximity. He holds his hands out and grabs my shoulders, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion.

I wanted to wiggle away, but I knew that would only end with me getting hit across the face, so I stayed put and let him touch me as much as he wanted. He smiled as he met my eyes. "You are so well-behaved today, little cat, I think I am going to give you a reward when I get back" "Where are you going" His hand caressed my face, his thumb rubbing against my lips. "I've got some business to take care of so I have to leave you for a while. Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it" "What business? And do you really have to restrict me like this? Isn't the ankle cuff enough... It's not like I can escape" Saying it out loud made it all the more real.

Couldn't they just leave me alone? I pulled into my garage and closed the door behind me, feeling a sense of relief and safety as I stepped out of the car and into the quiet and peaceful surroundings of my home. As I walked into my house, I was greeted by the familiar sight of my cat, Mr. Whiskers, who was lounging on the couch, looking lazy and content. I smiled and scratched behind his ears, feeling a sense of comfort and companionship.

As annoying as this woman is she still brings pie to me during Thanksgiving when I'm too lazy to go visit my mom. "Oh, Chloe how are you? Have you seen Pearl?" She has that worried look on her face. Of course, I haven't seen Pearl, I never see her why can't she realize that her cat leaves the house and comes back at will? Cats aren't like dogs, cats are independent creatures. They can survive out there. Who knows maybe Pearl snuck out to see her boyfriend. I can't wait for her to come back pregnant, that will be a huge twist.

As annoying as this woman is, she still brings a pie to me during Thanksgiving when I'm too lazy to go visit my mom. "Oh, Chloe, how are you? Have you seen Pearl?" She has that worried look on her face. Of course, I haven't seen Pearl. I never see her. Why can't she realize that her cat leaves the house and comes back at will? Cats aren't like dogs. Cats are independent creatures. They can survive out there. Who knows, maybe Pearl snuck out to see her boyfriend. I can't wait for her to come back pregnant. That will be a huge twist.

I meant it, I really am tired. ‘I’m not here with an agenda. The cat. It’s still at your place.’ ‘Oh. Right. I forgot. When are you taking it home?’ ‘You like cats more than I do. Do you want to keep it?’ I thought about it. ‘I’d love to. But it wouldn’t be fair. My childhood cats, Skipper and Pebble, they had a whole village to roam. Locking a kitten alone in a flat all day while I’m at work… I don’t think that’s such a good idea.’

I can’t blame her for being upset, and when I think of things from her point of view, the cards really do seem stacked against me. “She’ll understand,” I say out loud, reaching out to pet Simba, one of my two cats. He’s sixteen and was brought to a cat rescue after someone found him left behind when his owners moved out of their apartment. He was starving and sick, and I didn’t think he’d survive. Two years later, he’s still with us, and—shocking, I know—I got attached. He’s lived with me ever since. Giving up on trying to sleep, I mindlessly scroll through articles on my phone, wanting to stay distracted. A text from Chloe comes through, and I click on it right away.

I had never felt more alone and helpless than I felt yesterday. “Don’t, Adrian. I’m not ready to talk to you yet.” “It’s not what you think, though. It wasn’t like that.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, and go to argue, but the kitten starts to climb up my pant leg, mewling for food. The poor thing. I never fed her last night before going to bed.

As soon as I opened the door, they rushed to shove their catches into my hands. My heart, frozen all night, melted instantly. But remembering the countless days they'd gone hungry, I swallowed hard and forced myself to stay firm. "No. I can't take care of you anymore. Don't come back." I slammed the door in their faces, cutting off all sound from outside. From behind the door, I hovered like a sneaky voyeur, tiptoeing to peek through the peephole. Tears streamed endlessly down my cheeks. Day one: the cats refused to eat.

Just as I reached for my keys at the doorstep, a familiar meow suddenly echoed. I saw that Ragdoll cat crawling toward me, barely clinging to life. The cat that had previously ignored me was now actively rubbing against me, desperate for survival. I froze for a moment. Then, I mercilessly kicked it away. I did not want things that came too late. It did not matter if it was people or cats.