What Have I Done?
I kept running until my chest felt like it was going to pop, and even then I didn't fully stop until I collapsed from exhaustion, panting and heaving like I was about to die. I sat there on a sidewalk for about two seconds until I heard a barking sound, at which I dove yowling behind a trash can by a French restaurant. Peeking cautiously around the side of the metallic can, though, I spotted not Runt, but a big Doberman out for a walk with its human, practically dragging the guy along the sidewalk. I sighed, slumping over in the confined space between the trash can and the outer wall of the restaurant.
I had kissed Runt.
My head was churning again, but this time I had a better idea of why. I was a cat. I had just kissed a cat-hating dog right after he stated that he despised cats. I didn't even know why I'd done it.
Had I always been this crazy?
What would make me kiss Runt?
It was the song. It had to be the song. I was just so caught up in the dramatic fervor that I—that I—
Oh god, I couldn't even think about it. Somewhere in the past day, I had lost my sense of rhythm and timing. Even my heart was beating erratically, not even keeping a solid tempo.
Why did I do that?
Every time I closed my eyes I saw his face, so I kept them open, even to the point where my eyes started to burn. That stupid grin, the big floppy ears, that—
I realized that I'd closed my eyes again, and forced them back open.
What was wrong with me?
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't sort out what I was feeling. Sometimes my pulse sped up, other times my heart stopped altogether. I felt queasy, like I was about to be sick, then I felt as if I might just float away.
Big, yet small. Strong, yet weak. Incomplete, yet finished.
Happy, yet...yet...
I didn't know what else I felt. I didn't know if I even did feel happy. I was so mixed-up that I might as well have been a foreign film with the subtitles off.
With an odd, whimpering moan, I dropped my face into my paws and just sat there, shaking a little, wondering what had happened to make me this way.
Oh gee, oh gee, oh gee oh gee...
Gosh, where did Rita go? I'm real worried, definitely real worried...
Oh gee oh gee oh gee...
That was definitely different, yeah, definitely...
Oh gee...
Gotta find Rita, definitely gotta find Rita. Don't want Rita to get lost, definitely definitely not. Yeah, yeah, gotta find Rita, definitely gotta go look fer her.
Oh gee, oh gee...
Rita never did that before, no, definitely never. Definitely definitely definitely definitely.
Gotta find Rita. Don't want Rita to get lost. Definitely not. Gettin' lost isn't fun, definitely not fun.
Never want Rita to get lost, never never.
I didn't like bein' lost, nope, definitely not. All cold. No mama. Found her though, an' she helped me, yeah, definitely definitely helped me. I miss her. Haven't seen her fer a long time, though, definitely not fer a long time.
Met Rita after, though. Rita helps too. Rita's a good dog, real good dog. Like her.
...?
Dunno, nope, definitely have no idea, nope, nope, definitely not.
Gotta go find Rita, gotta go find her, definitely definitely have to find Rita...
I didn't move from behind the garbage can for a long time, instead just huddling there, alternately trying to sort out the tangled mess in my head and trying to forget about it entirely. I was Rita. Street-smart. Independent. So how come I couldn't even think straight without Runt there?
I wouldn't be able to face Runt, though. Not for a while. Not after that.
Oh, god, I was so stupid. Why had I kissed him? I couldn't tell him that I was a cat, so instead I planted a smacker on him? What kind of messed-up logic is that?
At another time, it might've been funny. But not now. Too much stuff was happening too fast. And I still hadn't told him that I was a cat.
Why did I suddenly get nervous when I thought about telling him?
Because he'd turn on me, I decided. He'd chase me away, barking his tail off 'till I was gone. Runt was a failsafe for me; there were some things he could do that I couldn't, like frightening away unscrupulous humans or charming them into submission, sometimes even with fighting things off. I was small and subtle, but Runt could be the big, blunt force that creatures immediately recognized, for whatever reasons. He was handy to have around.
Yes, that was all, I reassured myself.
Then why did I feel like the proverbial cat in a blender?
Suddenly, I heard a soft mewl from somewhere beyond the garbage can, and my ears stiffened. The voice seemed familiar, but—it couldn't have—
I sprang to my feet, leaping fluidly on top of the can and looking out, my tail twitching in anticipation. Padding about outside the door to the French restaurant was a prim black cat, sleek and well-kempt, longer and thinner than me. Her tail fluffed out like a massive incarnation of a squirrel's, as neat and orderly as the thin whiskers peeping out of her white muzzle. My eyes widened and my mouth opened in surprise and joy; it was Penelope Pussycat, my kittenhood pal. We'd been separated before either of us was fully grown, each adopted by a different human, and I hadn't seen her since, but it had to be the same cat. No one else had a tail as beautiful as that.
"Penelope!" I cried, heedless of any nearby humans, and jumped off the trash can. The lid clanged to the ground behind me, but I was so ecstatic that I really didn't care, practically tripping over my own paws as I rushed over to my old friend. Penelope was looking at me curiously, cocking her head like she vaguely recalled my face but couldn't place it. "Penelope, it's me! Rita! You remember, don't'cha?"
Penelope mewed confusedly in Felid, swishing her tail. "I can't understand you," she was saying, her voice containing a hint of the feline equivalent of a French accent. "What language are you speaking?"
She'd obviously had a very comfy life after her alley birth, since she hadn't felt the need to learn English. I switched to Felid for her sake, the language feeling odd after the long time since I'd last used it. "It's Rita, Penelope! Remember me? We were kittens together!"
Penelope blinked again, then she drew in a gasp as her fur stood on end. "RITA!" she miauled, springing a tight hug around my waist and rubbing her cheek against mine, purring. "I haven't seen you in years! My master brought me to Paris after he adopted me, and we only came back last month!" She pulled back, and both of us smiled excitedly. "I never thought to see YOU here!"
I laughed dryly, once again familiar with the meowing sounds that characterized Felid. "I haven't had any owners for long," I informed her, batting playfully at one of her ears. It's a cat thing. "I've been all over the WORLD lookin' fer one! The odds of us meeting again musta' been HUGE!"
"All over the world?" Penelope repeated incredulously, her eyes wide as her tail swished again. "That seems a lot for one cat! But," she chuckled,"you always WERE ambitious."
Though her words were meant to be taken lightly, something inside my stomach tightened as she said it, and I turned my face downwards. "Well, I...haven't actually BEEN alone." Penelope looked up at me with a questioning look in her eyes, and I went on, my windpipe tightening with every word. Why, though? "There's this...guy named Runt who's been traveling with me. We're both trying to find homes, but..."
I trailed off, but Penelope seemed to think she'd picked up on something. "Rita, you don't need a HUMAN to have a home. If Runt is a good cat, and you like him, then—"
"Penelope," I interrupted, raising my gaze to meet hers, "Runt is a DOG."
She was silent for a moment more, her lower lip curling slightly as she pondered this, then she looked up with a new fervor. "Rita, that doesn't matter. If you love him, then—"
"I don't!" This time I forgot Felid entirely, reverting to English in my burst of emotion. But even as I said it, a new wave of feeling washed over me. I didn't know what it was, didn't want to know, just wanted it to go away...
Even without my translation, though, Penelope seemed to understand what I meant. "Rita," she mewled insistently, "there's nothing wrong with being in love with someone outside your own species. If you're in love, nothing else matters."
"But we're not in love!" I protested again, but in Felid this time. My ears lowered a little, though. "And...he thinks I'm a dog too."
To my surprise, Penelope laughed. Not a loud, raucous laugh, but a petite cat giggle like the sounds of a plucked violin string. "In France, I was always being chased by a skunk who thought I was one of his species because of the white paint stripe down my back! And while his love was rather...forward...I think he'd do the same even if he KNEW I was a cat." She glanced at me pointedly, apparently thinking that there was some message in there that I should've absorbed. "Now. How do you feel about this Runt?"
"I...I don't love him!"
"Do you hate him?"
"NO!"
Even I was surprised at my heated protest, once again uttered in English. "I...I..." I faltered, then shut my eyes so far closed that it hurt. "I don't hate him. I...don't think I COULD. Sure, calling him dumb as a rock would be insulting to rocks, but...he's straightforward. You know how he feels about everything, all the time. Too...well, too DUMB to lie, I guess, but also...kinda...too PURE. Too innocent and naïve. I...well, I..."
"CAT!!"
My eyes snapped open, and I lurched to the right just as a huge mass of dog shot straight past, barking madly. "PENELOPE!" I called, but the black cat had already gone, the only trace left of her being a white puff of smoke. I whirled around, and my eyes blazed as I saw the big, stupid dog still yapping at thin air, his long black ears whipping about wildly with the motions of his head. Any previous embarrassment was forgotten as I stood there, firmly planted on all fours, and spoke with the most power and volume I'd ever had in my voice.
"RUNT!"
Even the happy-go-lucky mutt was stunned to hear me that way, and as he turned he saw my back, arched as high as it could go, my fur bristling, my sharp teeth showing and my eyes glaring daggers at him. "R...Rita?" he gulped, stumbling backwards on his massive paws. "Rita, I...I chased the cat away..."
"THAT CAT WAS MY FRIEND!" I shouted, making him wince. My voice was hoarse, from the recent change from Felid, the volume at which I was shouting, and something else I didn't know. "I HADN'T SEEN HER IN YEARS! YOU HEAR ME, RUNT? YEARS! AND I DIDN'T REALLY WANT TO HAVE A BIG DUMB DOG COME BARKING IN AND CHASE HER AWAY!!"
Runt cowered, his entire head and forebody pressed against the ground, his forepaws over his head, mussing his red russet headfur. "But...but Rita, tha...that was a cat," he repeated weakly. "I...heard it meowing."
Suddenly, I just couldn't take it anymore. Everything that had happened since this morning just exploded out of me, and I bounded over to Runt quicker than lightning, extended my claws and slashed him across his big goofy nose. As he yelped and covered it, I leaned right in towards his face and hissed, "Listen, buster, I wanna make somethin' clear ta you. That meowin' you heard wasn't that other cat. IT WAS ME."
Runt gaped up at me in astonishment, his nose momentarily forgotten. "I'M A CAT, RUNT!" I shouted. "A CAT! WANNA HEAR ME MEOW? I CAN MEOW! IT'S MY FIRST LANGUAGE! READ MY LIPS, I AM A CAT!!"
I could feel my cheeks getting damp. I was crying. Why was I crying?
Hissing again, I took another slash across Runt's nose and scampered past him, disappearing into a back alley and out of sight. The sound of my paws contained no rhythm, as hard as I strained to catch some.