Joey And His Cat

by Mike Fontanini

        It was a warm, sunny, summer day. Joey, an 18 year old, had just discovered that one of his cats had had kittens. He looked at the kittens. The kittens were odd looking, so small, and their ears looked a little too small for their heads. They were noisy little things.
        Over the next few weeks the kittens grew. Joey discovered that something was wrong with one of the kittens. It fell over a lot. It seemed to have a balance or coordination problem. He wasn't sure what to do.
        A few more weeks went by and the kitten still had the coordination problem, but was healthy other than that. It was definitely the kind of cat that likes people. It loved being petted. It was a very nice kitten.
        Everyday Joey would feed the cats. They knew when it was time to eat and they would let him know it if he was later than usual when he fed them each day. He came to like the kittens.
        As time marched on, the kittens grew into small cats. They were black cats, and they had yellow eyes. He had come to like the one with the coordination problem, which he affectionately called Wobbley, as well as the others of coarse.
        Sometimes he put his hand beside Wobbley to keep him from falling over to help him walk. Sometimes he would pick him up and carry him over to the food so he wouldn't have to try to get there himself.
        One day, Joey was outside playing with one of the cats. It was a little orange one that seemed to have a cold. It liked being petted, just like Wobbley. He was petting it, and then Wobbley came out from under the car to see him. He fell over a couple times on the way. He was a very happy cat. Joey could tell by the look on his face as he came to him. It was quite obvious that he was happy to live there and that he liked Joey.
        One gloomy, gray, overcast day, Joey was going to feed the cats. He saw Wobbley and a few others. As he looked at Wobbley, he could tell by the look on his face that he was happy to see him and that he wanted him to play with him. Wanting to get the cats fed as soon as possible so they wouldn't have to wait, he didn't play with Wobbley at that moment.
        Later that evening, he learned some bad news. His mom told him that the cat had been run over. He was stunned; he never expected to hear such a thing. She said his brother had run the cat over. Joey was sad and somewhat angry. Joey was mad because he figured his brother had been too lazy to check for cats under his car or something like that. He knew for sure that that cat hadn't run in front of the car, because that would be rather difficult for a cat with a coordination problem to do. It made him mad because it was something so preventable. There's no reason that had to happen. He later found out his brother had checked and moved Wobbley, but he didn't move him far enough and he freaked out or something and accidentally got back in the way of the car. It was still quite preventable had he moved that cat farther away.
        Later in his room, he listened to a sad song. He had discovered the power of a song; the way a song can make you break down so easily sometimes when you're in pain like this, and how a song sometimes just touches a nerve because you can relate so well to it and what it is saying and the emotions it is conveying.
        As he listened to the song, his tears came. He didn't care if someone walked in. He hated the stereotype that boys don't cry. He thought it was just nonsense because it takes a bigger man to acknowledge his emotions and let them show, then it does to simply hide them and pretend they aren't there.
        Joey was sad. The cold, hard facts of the cat's death were like a dagger in his heart. His tears fell like the rain in his heart. He wished he had played with that cat when he saw it when he went to feed the cats that day. He didn't know it would be the last time he'd ever see him. Had he known he would've played with him a lot at that moment.
        As the song played and the tears fell, memories streamed through his head one by one; memories of that cat and the good time they shared. Sometimes a memory would come along that would make him break down and cry hard again.
        Slowly, he came out of his sadness. It didn't last more than an hour, but he knew he'd get depressed from time to time for a while until he got over the loss.
        In honor of Wobbley, he decided to go to the local animal shelter and adopt a cat. He thought it would be nice to give a homeless cat a home. So he did. It was an orange cat that was very affectionate, like his deceased cat was.
        Though he was sad, his new cat cheered him up when he played with it. So did his other cats. He came to love his new cat, but he never forgot Wobbley. There would always be a special place in his heart for that cat.

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	Joey And His Cat by Mike Fontanini
	It was a warm, sunny, summer day. Joey, an 18 year old, had just discovered that one of his cats had had kittens. He looked at the kittens. The kittens were odd looking, so small, and their ears looked a little too small for their heads. They were noisy little things. Over the next few weeks the kittens grew. Joey discovered that something was wrong with one of the kittens. It fell over a lot. It seemed to have a balance or coordination problem. He wasn't sure what to do. A few more weeks went by and the kitten still had the coordination problem, but was healthy other than that. It was definitely the kind of cat that likes people. It loved being petted. It was a very nice kitten. Everyday Joey would feed the cats. They knew when it was time to eat and they would let him know it if he was later than usual when he fed them each day. He came to like the kittens. As time marched on, the kittens grew into small cats. They were black cats, and they had yellow eyes. He had come to like the one with the coordination problem, which he affectionately called Wobbley, as well as the others of coarse. Sometimes he put his hand beside Wobbley to keep him from falling over to help him walk. Sometimes he would pick him up and carry him over to the food so he wouldn't have to try to get there himself. One day, Joey was outside playing with one of the cats. It was a little orange one that seemed to have a cold. It liked being petted, just like Wobbley. He was petting it, and then Wobbley came out from under the car to see him. He fell over a couple times on the way. He was a very happy cat. Joey could tell by the look on his face as he came to him. It was quite obvious that he was happy to live there and that he liked Joey. One gloomy, gray, overcast day, Joey was going to feed the cats. He saw Wobbley and a few others. As he looked at Wobbley, he could tell by the look on his face that he was happy to see him and that he wanted him to play with him. Wanting to get the cats fed as soon as possible so they wouldn't have to wait, he didn't play with Wobbley at that moment. Later that evening, he learned some bad news. His mom told him that the cat had been run over. He was stunned; he never expected to hear such a thing. She said his brother had run the cat over. Joey was sad and somewhat angry. Joey was mad because he figured his brother had been too lazy to check for cats under his car or something like that. He knew for sure that that cat hadn't run in front of the car, because that would be rather difficult for a cat with a coordination problem to do. It made him mad because it was something so preventable. There's no reason that had to happen. He later found out his brother had checked and moved Wobbley, but he didn't move him far enough and he freaked out or something and accidentally got back in the way of the car. It was still quite preventable had he moved that cat farther away. Later in his room, he listened to a sad song. He had discovered the power of a song; the way a song can make you break down so easily sometimes when you're in pain like this, and how a song sometimes just touches a nerve because you can relate so well to it and what it is saying and the emotions it is conveying. As he listened to the song, his tears came. He didn't care if someone walked in. He hated the stereotype that boys don't cry. He thought it was just nonsense because it takes a bigger man to acknowledge his emotions and let them show, then it does to simply hide them and pretend they aren't there. Joey was sad. The cold, hard facts of the cat's death were like a dagger in his heart. His tears fell like the rain in his heart. He wished he had played with that cat when he saw it when he went to feed the cats that day. He didn't know it would be the last time he'd ever see him. Had he known he would've played with him a lot at that moment. As the song played and the tears fell, memories streamed through his head one by one; memories of that cat and the good time they shared. Sometimes a memory would come along that would make him break down and cry hard again. Slowly, he came out of his sadness. It didn't last more than an hour, but he knew he'd get depressed from time to time for a while until he got over the loss. In honor of Wobbley, he decided to go to the local animal shelter and adopt a cat. He thought it would be nice to give a homeless cat a home. So he did. It was an orange cat that was very affectionate, like his deceased cat was. Though he was sad, his new cat cheered him up when he played with it. So did his other cats. He came to love his new cat, but he never forgot Wobbley. There would always be a special place in his heart for that cat. Go Back to Writing Hompage