The Cat with the Speckled Coat

Sometimes, vengeance comes in a very small package...a package that purrs. Charlie thought a stray cat would be a nice addition to his new home. Charlie did a lot of thinking as of late. Here is a peek inside: "You're always so damned insistent, Jenny! Give me a minute." The tone of his voice surprised him and Charlie took a breath, considered apologizing and then laughed at himself. Jenny was a cat, for Christ's sake. He didn't hear her meow for the rest of the night but when he walked into the kitchen to get himself a beer, he saw that the tuna was gone again. He'd just started drinking again. Jenny never liked it so since she'd passed, he'd avoided it like it might represent some kind of evil betrayal. Now, though, he realized not drinking had a lot to do with not letting go and he realized he had to let go if he had any hope for happiness. He hadn't gotten to the hard stuff yet but he knew he would. There was a liquor store not too far away and even though it probably didn't have the charming flavor of the other shops, he was pretty sure it would still be unique to the area. He made his way to the living room, sat down, and took a sip. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. The sudden barrage seemed to come from the kitchen and he set his beer down on the end table and rushed over but, of course, the speckled cat wasn't there. He sighed and listened but there was nothing. "You're not getting more tuna right now, Jenny," he said. "Tomorrow." He saw there was still plenty of water in the bowl, lifted the plate from the floor and put it in the sink. When he returned to the living room, the bottle was on the floor, a puddle of beer on the hardwood floor. "Jenny!" he said. Then, he sighed. "Well, that's part of owning a cat, I guess." He picked up the bottle and made his way back to the kitchen, tossing it into the trash can and grabbing paper towels. He also took another beer from the refrigerator, took a long sip and walked back to the living room. He put the beer down and began mopping up the spill. He hadn't brought enough towels. "Damn." He returned to the kitchen, picked up the entire roll and threw the beer-soaked ones in the trash. When he returned to the living room, the second bottle was on the floor and the puddle was bigger.