It was official; life was really out to get me. I was just a normal man, living my life as a very talented and handsome trumpet player at a jazz club in downtown Goldenrod. I was well-known in the area for my incredible talent in music, my upstanding family background and inheritance from my father, my dashing good looks and finally, the fact that I wouldn't even so much as look at you before shoving you out of my way. I was a busy man; earning a paycheck every week was far more important to me than socializing. I lived in a very nice house in the gated part of town and preferred the privacy it offered me. If someone somehow ended up at my door, whether human or animal, I was quick to get them far away from me. I had better things to do with my life than dealing with nuisances.
I guess that only gives a reason as to how I ended up behind bars.
Now, I know what you're thinking. You probably are assuming that my cold behavior somehow lead to me being thrown in jail. Well I am happy to report that my criminal record is nonexistent. The police and I have had no issues in the past and I'm certain that we won't have any problems in the future. Instead my bars are of a more terrifying variety, ones that no matter how hard you try you can never escape them. This horrible cage of mine is cramped, dry and smells horribly of some flea-ravaged mutt that probably occupied it before me. The only thing I can do is curl up in a ball and wait for someone to release me, irritated and hating the world. This cage that I'm trapped in is in fact—
"Hey, furball!" My eye twitched as the golden retriever across the hall barked at me again, his one good eye gleaming with humor. "Will you shut your puny cat jaws already? The rest of us are trying to look cute for today's batch of potential homes!" His tail slammed against his cage as I drew my lips back and hissed in his general direction, still trying to adjust to using these much sharper teeth in my much smaller mouth.
"You shut your mouth, dog," I hissed. "I'm trying to think of my escape and furthermore, I am not a cat! I told you before when you wouldn't stop sniffing your own butt that I am a human and I have been cursed by some spiteful ghost-cat!" The other animals in the general area just laughed at me with barks of amusement and yowls of anger. The newfound fur on my face itched with heat as I turned away and stared at the dark corner of my cage.
—As I was trying to say before some fleaball started yammering, I am currently trapped within the dark depths of an animal shelter. I know, I know; you think I've gone crazy. Perhaps a bit too much jazz music and not enough sanity. Hate to burst your bubble but I am the perfect picture of sane. In fact the only thing I have to blame right now for my predicament is a vengeful, bratty spirit who took the form of a tabby kitten and cursed me for not letting it in my house which was completely my choice I might add. The thing was soaking wet and covered in filth! Like I wanted that all over my polished, hardwood floors!
Well, thanks to that late night visitor to my doorstep, I'm currently locked in the body of a cat. Not just any cat mind you, but a cat with vibrant red fur and cold silver eyes. So not only am I something other than a human, I'm stuck looking like some drawing a teenager made in attempt at being original in character design. I got turned into a cat and zapped outside of my own home in the pouring rain and that nosy old hag next door decided to call animal control on me when I tried to get back in my own home. That smelly behemoth took me straight to this animal shelter and here I am, locked up and waiting in a corner for the next time someone with thumbs opens my cell.
"Hey, hey, hey," an obnoxious persian cat closer to the end of the hall started yowling as footsteps rang out against the cold tiled floor. "Food's a'coming!" My ears perked up as the uproar of noon feeding time took over, the various cats and dogs held within this animal prison started waking up and getting excited. I turned towards the metal bars of my cage as I found a few volunteers making their way down the hall with bags of animal chow beside them and plastic cups in thier hands. My eyes drifted to the overflowing bowl of cat food at the head of my cage. I of course was high above eating the disgusting pellets of brown that they tried to pass off as food. They had tried to feed me with wet cat food when they brought me in but I was quick to claw up the face of the man who thought I would be foolish enough to eat that stuff. Instead, I let that stuff sit in the bowl where they left it, even if it meant I had to tolerate the gnawing feeling in my stomach and the dizziness from not eating anything since a sandwich I had the day I was turned into this horrible thing.
I slowly made my way to the door of my cage just as a man opened the door again. I sprung to my feet and tried to run past him, hoping that my sudden charge would catch him off guard and give me the chance to escape. Instead I was held back by a single hand and given a click of the tongue. I found myself yowling in anger and trying to claw him out of my way as I've seen many a cat do, but instead I just ended up swatting him and making him laugh at me.
"Hey little guy," the man cooed. I held down the disgust in my throat as he just shoved me back in the back of my cage and scooted the food bowl in the center, spilling out a few of the pellets as it moved. "This is food, you know. I don't know what you used to eat, but this is what you're supposed to eat now. If you don't eat something soon, you're gonna have to be fed with a bottle or something." I was just inches from spitting at him as my legs gave out from underneath me and I was sent crashing to the floor of my cage. The man flashed me a sympathetic look only seconds before the man feeding the dogs on the other side of the hall started sighing at him.
"Don't waste your time with that one, David. That furball's set to be put down tonight."
Oh. Did I mention that my desperate attempts at freedom and aggression have slated me with a one-way trip down the hallway to euthanization once the day's over? Yeah, that's another reason why I'm hating my life right about now.
"No way!" David, the man who was now shutting my cage door, turned his head to stare at the dark-haired volunteer. "This little guy?"
"Yup," the man grumbled. "He clawed up Frederick so bad that he had to have a few days off. The fellow won't eat, play nice with guests or do anything a proper cat is supposed to do." I glared at the man talking as the light-haired man with cat food took a reluctant step to the tabby in the cage next to mine. "They say he's healthy and all, but he looks like a nightmare. Those eyes of his are an odd color, and his fur looks like he took a bath in his own blood." He shook his head and shut the door to the golden retriever's cage after giving him a quick pet behind his ears. "No one wants him. Anyone who tries to take a look at him ends up getting bit or scratched up the second he leaves his cage."
"It's a real shame..." The two men moved on as I just swatted my tail in frustration and laid my head against the hot floor of my cage, warmed by my constant presence. "He looks like a real handsome tom-cat. I'd take him home if I could, but I've got two little ones. I can't let them get hurt by a cat."
"Some just aren't meant to make it, David." The other one sounded gruff and older as their voices gradually became a bit quiet, with the only reason I was able to hear them being that I had very acute hearing in this puffball of a body. "There's millions, billions even of cats in this world. They all have to die sometime, and some a bit sooner than others. Besides, he's got a much better home waiting for him."
"I guess..." The two men finished their rounds and walked back down the hall, leaving a trail of munching animals in their wake. I just let out a heavy breath and stared down at my red paws, suddenly feeling the weight of my position press against my spine. "Still, it's a shame that we have to euthanize any of them. I understand that we don't have enough money to take in every cat and dog in Goldenrod and that some of them are so far gone that we can't help them, but it still hurts."
"Don't take it personal." The sound of their jackets pulling down on their hooks signaled that the morning shift was leaving; it was now one o'clock in the afternoon on a Sunday, the slowest day of the week for this place. The chances of me slipping away were growing thinner with every heartbeat. "It's not your fault that he's a nasty one. Probably had a bad life as a kitten or something. They say that alley cats are three-times as likely to tear a man apart than even a grumpy house-cat."
With those beautiful words of sympathy, the two men headed out for the day, leaving the shelter in a mess of eating noises. The woman at the desk bid them farewell before rustling through something, out of sight but not out of earshot. The world swirled around me as my heart beat frantically in my chest. I have only hours to get out of here before they... My mind did not allow me to think on the alternative; the mere idea of dying in this forsaken body made me more nauseous than even skipping three days worth of meals.
My eyes slowly shut as I let out a sigh and tried to relax in this overheating cage. The hot panic from my skin kept seeping into the material of my cage and heating it under my new fur, making me very uncomfortable. I was surprised that none of the animal inmates were complaining; they seemed to whine and cry about everything else in this place. This small body seemed to be made of stone as the sound of an opening door reached my ears with the chime of a bell ringing above the glass panes. Some of the animals got up and started making noises, trying to get the new entrant's attention. I just put a sticky paw over my nose and hoped that someone would open my cage again and give me just one more chance at escaping.
"Hey Whitney!" A woman's voice echoed from the entryway, not exactly high-pitched but at least less irritating than that one woman who was in charge of the medical examinations I had to go through when they saw what I looked like. The rustling of a jacket proved that this must be another volunteer getting ready for a day at work. "So sorry I couldn't come in yesterday; I've never seen such a busy Saturday at the store!"
"Nah, it's fine, hun." The nasal-congested voice of the pink-haired woman at the desk made me slowly open my left eye and stare out of my cage, the metal bars gleaming with the constant overhead lights. "Things got busy at your job. It's good to see you today, though!"
The volunteer laughed before taking a few steps, the sound seeming as if she was heading back with the prisoners. "Thanks! It's good to see you, too." There was a sound of keys clinking together and my hopes foolishly rose, knowing that the sound only meant someone's cage was going to be opened. "Hey," she called back to the desk. Whitney let out a hum of recognition as the footsteps slowly made their way back. "Any new fellows here in the shelter, Whitney?"
"Nah, just the one they picked up on Thursday night."
The woman stopped walking for a moment and a few whimpers rose above the silence, the other cats and dogs trying to get her attention. "For real?" Her voice sounded confused, almost disappointed. I just rolled my eyes and tried to sit up. I remembered quite vividly that I was the one who was brought in on that accursed night, zapped into a furball of a body with nothing to prove who I am besides my thoughts and my impeccable looks. "I would have thought that he left by now! He's a cute one with an odd fur color; those guys are usually picked up quickly."
"That's for silver cats and chocolate dogs for the most part," Whitney grumbled. I resisted the urge to look out my cage to find the volunteer. "That fella' looks like the devil himself owned him last! A cat with red fur like that is just unnatural. Besides, his eyes look like they've got problems or something, even if he did pass the vision test."
A few muttered words slipped from the hallway as the woman continued her walk. I lifted my head from checking my paws to find a shadow over my cage, proving that she had stopped at my little crate in the wall. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Her voice was now panicked, as if she found something she didn't like. I just sighed; I knew very well that she was looking at the red piece of paper they put on my cage last night. "Why is there a red slip on this little guy?!" The woman turned her head towards the entrance, the only thing visible being her teal jacket with white stripes down her arms and a pawprint on the chest, bearing the name 'Goldenrod Animal Shelter' in white lettering.
"Ah, he's set for tonight." The pink-haired woman at the desk must have moved because her voice was a bit louder than before. "He kept getting nasty with the visitors, trying to swat them and spitting at them. He's too violent to keep here. The only thing we really can do put him down."
"That's not fair!" The woman in front of my cage was reaching in her pocket now, the sound of keys reaching my ears again. Excitement lifted my spirits as I realized that she was most likely opening my cage. "What if someone adopted him tonight? He'd be clear, right?"
"Yeah, but he apparently isn't too keen on the idea or something because he throws a fit whenever someone asks to see him." The receptionist's voice was now even closer than before. She must be somewhere in the hallway to be that loud. "Hate to say it but I think he's not leaving here tonight."
The flash of keys made me stand up straighter, trying to focus on the fact that this volunteer was about to unlock my cage and give me yet another shot at leaving this place alive. I couldn't get too focused on what these two were saying if I wanted to bolt the second they opened the door. Suddenly the door to my cage swung open and a pair of hands reached inside and blocked me in the center between her arms, apparently aware of my tactic of rushing out the side. Before I could even move away to the back of the space I was picked up under my stomach and hoisted out of this small jail cell. The artificial light of the hallway nearly blinded me as I was pulled outside, making me dazed for a few moments. When my eyes finally adjusted to the white light I was able to take a quick look at this volunteer.
The volunteer who pulled me out of my cage was a young woman most likely around the same age as me. With wide brown eyes and lengthy hair of a slightly lighter shade of the same color, she wasn't exactly much to look at. Average height, thin frame with her only individualizing feature being that her eyes were more of a hazel color than a brown on second glance, a noticeable undertone of orange near her pupils—other than her eyes she was nothing special.
I quickly decided that glaring at her was my best option, seeing as my legs were feeling a bit numb. She must have taken this as some sort of sign of me liking her, for she turned to another woman with pink hair with a bright smile. "See," she chuckled. The volunteer looked at me out of the corner of her hazel eyes as she stated proudly, "He likes me already! You have to let me take him home! You cannot expect me to let him just be killed like this—"
The pink-haired receptionist just raised her hands in a silent plea for quiet before turning to look at me. "I know how much you hate the whole euthanization process, Lyra." My right ear twitched as I caught her name, trying to at least remember it for later. Knowing the name of the woman who was trying to take you home with her in an effort to save your life might come in handy. Whitney's eyes narrowed before she shrugged at the slightly shorter brunette. "But you're on record for fostering dogs, not cats. Are you sure you want to take home..." Her voice drifted off as she appraised me, her blue eyes scanning my unwanted fur with disdain before looking back to the volunteer. "That one? I don't think they'll let you take in any cute puppies for a while if you take this fellow with you."
"It doesn't matter," Lyra hissed. I halfheartedly squirmed in her arms and the brunette shifted me in her grasp, holding me closer to her chest to keep me from running off. I'm pretty sure it goes without saying that being that close to a woman against your will was a bit more than just awkward. "I want to take him with me. I'll buy the supplies from the shelter, even! Just please let me take him."
The pink-haired woman stared at her for a while, her blue eyes sharp with thought. Slowly the sound of my heartbeat returned to my ears and a small sense of panic swooped in. It was getting late; these two had probably spent a good half-hour talking about me. I had either the choice of heading home with this chick and escaping later on or— I gulped down a bit of anxiety as the cold reality of me staying here rumbled in my brain. Despite the fact that I still wanted to return to my actual life, the idea of heading with this brunette was looking a bit better. Just when I thought the receptionist was going to refuse, she instead shook her head and motioned to the bright end of the hallway, the pathway to freedom.
"Fine." A short sound of relief passed through the woman holding me as Whitney turned away and started heading for the front. "You can take him. Just know that he's your problem now. If he's nasty to anyone out there, it'll be the same fate for him as any other cat." The brunette walked after her with a slight bounce in her step, jolting me against her and upsetting my empty stomach.
"Thank you," the volunteer cooed as we passed by a few cages. "I'm going to keep this fellow far away from this place. He'll behave once he gets out of here, I'm sure of it!" I just let out a sigh and gave in for the moment, holding on to the chance of escape later on. "Whitney, I swear you're the best person here!"
The pink-haired woman was now at her desk, shuffling through a few papers and looking for a pen. She let out a bitter laugh at her—I'm guessing—friend before returning to look at us with a pen in hand. "Don't let Ethan hear you say that! That friend of yours is pretty adamant about him being the only reliable volunteer in this place."
"Psst!" My ears pricked at the sound of some cat hissing at me. I slowly turned back to take a glance at the cages. A black and white tom was sitting calmly at the head of his cage, his green eyes narrowed at me. He shifted his paws in front of him for a moment before opening his mouth to speak. "Look happy, you fool! You're getting out of here!" I just gave him a baffled look only seconds before I found myself being pushed towards another cage, this one some type of mobile pet carrier. A strange sound of panic left my mouth as I slipped inside of another space of plastic and shut it.
"Hey, it's going to be okay, little guy." The brunette who had decided to take me home with her looked inside of the cage with a smile, her eyes bright. "You'll be in here for only a little while. Then you can run around as much as you want." Yeah, I mentally sneered at her, I'll be running out of your front door. I will not become someone's pet, thank you!
"Take care with that one, Lyra." The pink-haired woman was now pulling a decently sized bed for pets off of a shelf, her back turned to us. "He refuses to eat any sort of cat food." I watched through the slits on the side of the cage as she turned back towards us with the bed in her arms, filled with a navy blue collar, food and water dishes, a leash and a few other basic pet supplies. She placed them on the counter with a serious expression as the sound of an opening wallet reached my ears. "We've given him all we could while he was sleeping, but IVs and all that other stuff doesn't do him much good. He needs actual food."
An exchange of currency was made as I just let out another sigh and laid down against the cold plastic. I shut my eyes and flattened my ears to try and relax a bit. I needed to conserve my energy if I was going to escape later. "Perhaps his old owner only fed him tuna fish." Another sound made me think that Lyra tucked her wallet away and was now most likely trying to figure out how she was going to carry everything she had just purchased. "You know how those old ladies can be with cats; they'll treat them better than their grandchildren!"
Whitney let out a laugh before walking a short distance away, her voice a bit fainter. "Yeah, that's what I've been thinking myself! Still, the shelter won't let us feed them anything other than actual pet food, so we've had to just stick to protocol. Well, I'll go ahead and get you a license for him so you two can head home; I'm sure this guy is more than eager to see the inside of a house again."
"Yeah," I muttered bitterly, "I'm more than eager to see the inside of my house again." The brunette responsible for my 'rescue' gave me a quick look before walking off with the receptionist, heading with her to go fill out some papers and most likely pay even more money. The sound of my heartbeat slowly returned to the front of my senses as I tried to pace my breathing. My eyes seemed so heavy suddenly that it was a relief that I was resting them. I took a deep breath and recalled my tail to curl around my side, still feeling an odd sensation whenever I maneuvered the continuation of my spinal column. Before I knew it the sounds of the other animals in the shelter and my heartbeat died away as a thick blanket of silence covered me. With another breath I fell asleep in the plastic cage, my chin hitting the floor of the space as the darkness took me.
The first signal that I was no longer in the shelter was the sound of heavy traffic slowly seeping into my ears, melting through the peaceful lull I had given in to and attacking the oversensitive ears on my head. My second clue was the sound of humming and a metal dish being placed on the ground. My eyes stuck closed as I tried to look at where I was, the hard surface below me suddenly feeling like a fresh pillow and a foam mattress all in one, squishing down under my miniscule weight and yet supporting me at the same time. My eyes finally complied and I was abruptly struck with the bright lights of some sort of living room. I slowly shook of the groggy feeling in my head as I tried to scan my surroundings.
It was evident by the aged television and used couch in front of me that I was in an apartment and that my new 'owner' did not have the same pleasantries that I had in my own home. The walls were a jarring shade of light blue, similar to something found in a nursery and patterned with teal stripes. With medium-brown wood floors and not a rug in sight, the space closest to the ground was a bit chilly for my liking. I slowly stretched out my legs and looked towards the source of the earlier noise. Directly attached to this living space was the kitchen composed of one long countertop to divide the two rooms, outdated white appliances and ugly orange wood cabinets. I quickly caught a flash of metal near the bordering fridge and found a water bowl and food bowl waiting, the water reflecting a bit of orange light into the connected rooms. I scrunched up my nose at the sight and decided to take a further look around.
The floor was biting my pawpads as I walked to the right of the kitchen. There was a short hallway with only two doors in it, most likely the bedroom and the bathroom. Not bothering to check what atrocities lay in this woman's private quarters, I wandered over to a small space to the left of the counter. Surprisingly there was another door there and it was left ajar. Tilting my head in as close as I could get to a shrug in this furred body I pushed the door open with a single paw. My eyes gave it a quick appraisal as the owner of this lovely home remained missing in action. Red walls, basic bed dressing and only a single dresser. I turned away in disgust as I found it to be a sub-par guest room. Evidently this woman hardly had any overnight visitors. I decided right there that the place was furnished quite poorly and returned to the only promising thing in this place, that being my new bed.
The strange fabric it was made of was puffy like faux fur and smelled like a factory. I resisted the urge to vomit at the conflicting smells before a strange twitching took over my body. Before I could understand what I was doing I was jumping on the bed and rubbing my face all over it. I abruptly regained control of my body and pulled away, gasping for air. What...what did I just do?! Horror slipped in my veins as I stared down at the pet bed. Interestingly enough the offensive smell of machines had vanished and instead was replaced with an oddly comforting scent of musky cologne and rain water. I gave it an odd stare only to be interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming from the hallway. Turning my head I found the brunette walking out of the hall with a smile on her face. She looked my way with a smile before kneeling down on the ground reaching out with a single hand.
"Hey there, buddy." Her fingers slowly invaded my personal space, reaching for my head. I tilted away with a glare before rushing back to the bed. Something inside of my mind was saying that this spot was mine now, and therefore she could not invade my space here. Lyra gave me a humored look before shaking her head and retracing her hand. "It's good to see you're awake. Were you tired from waiting around all day?" To my somewhat relief she was speaking in a normal voice and not resorting to a 'baby voice' that many foolish people used when talking to babies and smaller animals.
The woman watched me for a moment before looking to her left and staring at the couch. "Well, this is home! I know you must be a bit uncomfortable in a new place, but I promise that you'll like it here. I've put your bowls right over there—" She broke off to point at the shimmering dishes before pointing to a window with a small windowseat that I hadn't really paid attention to before. "And there's a nice window over there if you want to take a look at the city." I turned back to her to find her giving me a smile. "It seems big at first, but I think you'll get used to it." Lyra then slowly rose to her feet, the smile still on her face. My tail twitched with irritation as she then looked down the hall.
"The litterbox is in the bathroom. I would take you outside to go, but Whitney insisted that cats don't have the patience to wait that long." Disgust washed over me as I remembered yet another flaw in my unwanted feline body. The thought of having to use a box to relieve myself was horrifying. I wanted nothing to do with that thing—and I couldn't just hold it in either. Sooner or later, I was going to be forced to use that thing or find a way to use the toilet. And trust me, I was going to find a way. I would not stoop to such a level!
"Well," Lyra sighed, "That's about all you need to know for now. I'm going to finish putting everything away, okay?" With one last smile the brunette walked away and left me crouched in this sad excuse for a bed. My tail twitched with a lingering anger before growing still. With a sharp sigh my eyes flickered back to the window. I reluctantly pulled myself up and stared at the windowseat, a burning in my chest urging me forward. I looked around before rushing to the bench and leaping to the windowsill, hoping to take in my surroundings and figure out where I was.
My eyes quickly glanced over the crowded street and bustling traffic and instead looked for the tell-tale signs that proved Fifth Avenue? Lover's Lane?! My heart throbbed as I recognized this as the least desirable district in the city. I'm on the opposite side of town! I resisted the urge to slam my head against the glass as frustration bubbled in my throat. I need to get out of here! If I tried to walk there in this body, my feet would start bleeding or something! A hot breath escaped me before I sat on my feet in frustration. My escape plan might need a bit more work than just slipping out of this woman's fingers and running as fast as I could.
My brain searched desperately for a missed word or sentence that would solve my problem. That terrible spirit had mentioned something about there being a cure to this curse he put on me, but he never exactly stated what I had to do. There was no magic word or some object that had to be collected. Instead it told me in no uncertain terms that I was a horrible member of the human race and that I deserved to learn a lesson. Only problem with that is that the dumb thing never told me what the supposed lesson was! How was I supposed to return to normal if I didn't know what I had to do?!
I knew it from the moment I found myself as a cat; life was officially out to get me.
Author's Note: I have a lot of AUs. Some of them are serious like "The Pains of Being in Charge". Others are really lighthearted and silly, such as this one. I wanted to try to write something a bit lighter to help with a very clingy writer's block and I decided to go with this one. I'm kinda unsure if I should continue this right now or come back to it later (meaning lots of months later most likely). If I get enough people telling me they like it, I'll go ahead and continue with this.