Layla’s Epilogue
I’m sure you think being adopted by a celebrity is all catnip and toy mice. It isn’t.
I left the shelter with Mr. Hollywood that day. He told me his name was Vaughn as we drove away. I told him, “meow.”
He introduced me to Grace. She kicked him out of her apartment.
I figured I was headed right back to sheltersville.
All hell broke loose after that. Grace went missing. People came and left the apartment at all hours. I hid under the bed and considered making a break for it.
When Vaughn came back and dropped me into a carrier I was sure my time was up. But he didn’t take me back to the shelter. He took me to an empty parking lot, and then we got into a car that floated across the sky. I wasn’t on the nip I swear, the car floated in the clouds.
Grace was there too, but she was sad.
We eventually ended up in a place they called “home.”
The sun shined every day. My food dish was always half filled and Mr. Hollywood even scooped my poop.
The windows in this home slid all the way open. I mean, it was crazy. I could lay half inside the house and half outside the house. At the same time.
But Grace was still sad. Eventually though, my Grace started smiling again. All the time. And my Vaughn, he smiled too.
Today he came home early. Grace was in the lazy river when he blew through the front door in the middle of the day, with fresh flowers in hand. “Happy anniversary sweets!” He’d called.
Grace hopped out of the river and threw herself at him, sopping wet. A few drops of water fell on me where I was sunbathing, on a lounge chair. Rude.
Moments later I heard the oomph of the duvet on the bed. A middle of the day nap? My favorite! I raced through the house into the bedroom and leapt onto the bed. Oh. They’re wrestling before their nap. That’s annoying. I can’t get comfortable with the bed shaking. I hop off the bed and onto the nightstand. I slow blink in their direction.
“The damn cat is watching again Grace.”
“Don’t stop.” My Grace sounds breathless. “It’s fine. Keep going.”
“Sweets, I hate the watching.”
“You love the watching, remember?” My Grace looks flushed. I hope she’s not coming down with something. She vomited just this morning. We were right in the middle of a snuggle when she slapped a hand over her mouth and bolted to the toilet.
“Not the same thing Grace.” He responds, voice strained.
This afternoon wrestle doesn’t appear to be wrapping up anytime soon. I yawn. Maybe I can find a hair band in the bathroom. I like hair bands almost as much as middle of the day naps. I head off to investigate.
Comb. I swipe it off the counter and it lands on the floor with a click. Oh, a cotton ball. I swipe that off the counter too. It doesn’t make any noise when it hits the floor. That was unsatisfying.
What’s this? I swipe the item with my paw. It spins around and around across the counter. I watch fascinated as it drops to the floor. I jump down after it. Whack. It slides across the tile floor and rebounds off the wall. Whack. It sails across the bathroom into the bedroom. This is fun! Whack.
“What the hell is the cat playing with?” My Vaughn sounds sleepy. They’re done wrestling, finally.
“Hmmm?”
Whack. My toy hits the nightstand. My Vaughn leans over and picks it up.
“Grace.” He doesn’t sound sleepy now. “Care to tell me about this?”
My Grace sits straight up in bed. “Layla!”
“Meow?”
