Beyond the Cosmos

My Cat's New Pair of Paws

My cat and I have always been inseparable since I got him. He has this pitch black fur with a little white at his neck. Yellow eyes that glint like rhinestones in the dark and what I love mostly about him are his paws. Every time I get the chance to lay in bed and cuddle with him I play with his paws and squish them. It is so irresistible.

But lately my cat started going out often. In his journey to seek for female cats. This is what they call the in-heat phase. I don't really worry about him that much because however long he is gone, he still comes home to eat and play with me for a while. Until one night I woke up, startled at the noise of something knocking at the sliding door in the living room. It was my cat, as I suspected. He has developed this habit of knocking until someone wakes up to open it for him. Mom gets mad sometimes because he comes home really late. Luckily that night I was the one who woke up.

As soon as I opened the door I went straight to my bed to return to my sleep— only finding out that my cat followed me to sleep with me. Getting comfortable in bed I noticed something peculiar with his front paws, the paws I always play with. It was replaced by a pair of human hands. Checking if it wasn't just my sleepy mind playing games with me, I opened the light. I didn't feel anything but anger towards my cat.

"Where did you get this, Chuck?", I asked him. Hoping I'll get an answer. But he just answered with his mesmerizing adorable eyes.

"This is insane. Where are your paws?" I tried minimizing my voice so my mom won't hear me. She always finds it weird that I talk to my cat and treat them like my own siblings.

My cat stared at me for a few seconds and I stared back at his eyes and his new pair of hands. Back and forth, confused about what's going on. I fell asleep. The next morning I was awakened by the news that my neighbor lost his pair of hands, taken by an entity that scratched him. I knew it was my cat. I was afraid they would kill him so I went looking for him around the house. Turns out, he wasn't home. Probably went on another journey of hunting female cats again.

The day passed and he went back home at night. Instead of human hands he got a pair of chicken feet. The next night it was a pair of goat's feet. He probably got it from scratching his victims with his claws, not with the intention of killing them but with the thought of having a new pair of paws like he's shopping for new shoes.

I remembered one night I got mad at him because I couldn't take it anymore. He got mad at me too and scratched my face. I've never seen him like that. I stared at his eyes fired with anger and in that moment I felt that our souls connected, blurring my perception of what is real and not. He talked to me with his eyes. Without uttering any meows, purrs or words, I fully understood him.

Late nights I lie awake waiting for him. Playing him in my awakened dreams just like before. Not worried with that thought of him not coming back or what time he's going to knock at the door. I am troubled with the thought of what pair of hands he will take home tonight.