A/N: This is a continuation of prompt 7: Weather.
Vlad hadn't realized what sort of lifestyle changes bringing in a kitten would entail. He spent an entire day in town, browsing the local PetSmart, and being chatted up by a teenage employee with far too much time on her hands. He'd left with bags full of things – different dishes for food and water, a fluffy pillow-like bed, a mechanical cat box that washed and reused litter he wouldn't have to touch, numerous toys that either made noises or moved on their own or dangled from doorknobs, and about a hundred cans of cat food.
Of course, the kitten refused to use the bed (it curled up on his sheets and managed to wriggle into his dirty laundry for naps), it was terrified of the noises the box made when it washed the reusable litter (he had to go back to the store and buy three different new ones to place in various areas, as well as several bags of litter, a scoop, and a few new trash cans for disposal), it completely ignored all the toys (preferring to play with the ribbons he used to pull back his hair and wadded up paper it pulled from the trash in his office), and turned its nose up at all the food (the employee laughing when he returned it, saying her own cat liked dry food better, too).
The only thing the little monster seemed to like were the bags of cat treats (it found one he'd left too close to the ground and tore a hole into the package, eating until it threw up on his rug) and the container of catnip the employee had suggested he buy (it had taken a few licks of the green powder and then collapsed, rolling in it and spending the rest of the day in a daze, rubbing against everything and leaving a leafy trail).
It was enough to make Vlad want to kick the thing back out into the gardens, to forget the animal ever existed in the first place.
"I should have left you to die," he grumbled at it one morning, looking at the shredded remains of his favorite tie.
The thing just stretched up on its back paws, rubbing its cheeks against his knee and purring loudly.
It wasn't all bad, he would admit to himself. Late at night, when the silence of his mansion became too oppressive, the little kitten would crawl into his room and lay across his neck, purring and letting its body heat comfort him. Or in the morning, he would wake to find that it had made its way under the covers at some point during the night, a fuzzy presence against the small of his back. Coming home from work, he now had something to greet him with long meows and motor-loud purring instead of the soft echoes of his own footsteps.
"What do I do with you?" he thought out loud one day, laying back on his couch in a most undignified manner. But the kitten liked to lay on his stomach, usually falling asleep as he scratched under its chin.
The animal meowed, loud and long, in response. It had been rather noisy lately, almost screaming at times. Vlad frowned, reaching out to scritch its cheek.
The kitten hissed, biting the tip of his finger and swatting at his hand before leaping to the floor. Vlad yelped, more in surprise than in pain, and sat up quickly.
"You monster," he accused. The kitten just yowled loudly, flopping over onto its side and wriggling, lashing its tail and stretching its paws. The man glared, standing quickly. He realized suddenly just how much this beast had taken over his life and how little regard it had for him. It was time to be rid of it, now.
He reached down to grab it by the scruff of its neck, but it twisted quickly. Carefully, gently, it took his hand in both paws and gave him a lick where it had just bit him. A little squeak escaped it and it looked at him, blinking slowly.
Did this cat just... apologize?
His sudden flare of anger died down and Vlad found he had no idea what to do with himself now. People, much less animals, didn't apologize to him. They either flung their anger at him in person and were escorted out by security, or they quit silently and sullenly, tearing him down on any online forum they could find.
But this tiny creature seemed aware of the pain its bite could induce, and seemed rather contrite. It purred loudly and Vlad sighed. He would allow it to remain for a while longer, he supposed.
That night, the kitten screamed until daylight. Yowling and running up and down his hallways, it only paused at his window to shriek at the gardens.
Vlad crawled out of bed the next morning, having slept almost a full two hours, and feeling the weight of it on his shoulders. The wretched beast would have to go. Today.
Again, Vlad found himself at PetSmart, talking to the same employee. She frowned when he told he was going to give it away due to its incessant noise.
"Have you taken it to the vet?" the girl asked him. "It might just be sick – cats can't talk you know. They're like babies, they only have one way to communicate."
And that was how Vlad found himself buying the first crate he grabbed, a plastic pink monstrosity that snapped together around and equally pink metal grating. He snatched up the still-yowling monster and shoved it inside, and ended up waiting at the veterinarian clinic closest to the PetSmart.
"Didn't get much info on here, did we?" the old doctor said with a smile, looking over the papers Vlad had filled out. The doctor didn't seem to recognize him, unlike the secretary, the nurse, and the several others in the waiting room, and it was actually comforting to the man. "No breed, no age, no name?"
"I only recently obtained the animal," Vlad explained. And if there was nothing wrong with the beast, it would be gone from his mansion and his life.
"No matter, we'll get this all sorted out." The vet opened the small cage, clicking his tongue and smiling sweetly. "C'mon baby. Let's get a good look at you."
It looked at the doctor with wide eyes and yowled, the same scream that had kept Vlad up all night.
"That noise is the reason I bought it in," Vlad said as the vet continued to croon. "It's been howling lately and last night it didn't even sleep."
The doctor nodded. He abandoned the cage for a moment, grabbing a handful of something out of a jar and putting it on the table. Treats, Vlad recognized, watching the kitten slowly poke its head out of its cage. It looked at Vlad and trilled, before slinking out and crouching next to the treats. Before it could start eating, however, the doctor grabbed the animal, lifting it quickly.
"Let's just examine you real quick," he spoke even as the kitten hissed and flailed. Expertly dodging sharp claws, the vet looked at teeth and fur and even lifted its tail to peer behind it. The doctor smiled and nodded, placing the kitten back on the exam table so that it could scamper back into the cage.
"You said you recently adopted the kitten?" the doctor asked, pushing a few treats inside the cage. There was a moment of suspicious silence before crunching could be heard.
"Almost two weeks ago. Does that affect whatever is wrong with it?"
The vet chuckled. "No, no, there's nothing wrong, per se. Your kitten has just entered a heat cycle."
"A heat cycle?" That answered his question, several of them actually. "So then this will be over and done with soon, correct?"
The doctor shrugged. "Perhaps. You should be aware, however, that her cycle can last anywhere from one to seven days. And once this heat has passed, she could cycle back into it in as little as a week."
Another week of howling. Another week of shrieking and biting and hissing. And then for it to start all over again so soon?
Vlad pushed the carrier closer.
"Fix her."