As I slowly made my way toward Monica while she stroked my fur, I noticed her mother smiling happily, asking if Monica liked her gift. Monica nodded her head up and down with enthusiasm, trying not to scare me off by speaking. She looked so happy, and before I even realized it, I was lying on her lap, feeling completely at ease.
After a few minutes, her parents got up. They reminded Monica to let me get used to this new environment slowly. Her mother went to get dinner ready, and her dad sat down at his computer to work. But Monica didn't move an inch. She stayed right there on the floor, making sure I wouldn't feel scared or alone.
I slowly started drifting off on her lap. The day had been both exciting and a little scary—but mostly, it was just exhausting.
A few hours must have passed before I woke up from my nap. I noticed I wasn't on Monica's lap anymore. She must've moved me at some point. The little white pillow I was lying on already had the soft indents of my paws. I stretched slowly, then stood up and looked around. Monica wasn't in the room, but I could hear her nearby, so I carefully made my way toward the kitchen, placing one paw in front of the other, still cautious in this new place.
As I stepped into the kitchen, I saw Monica sitting on a stool, playing on her phone. I padded a little closer, and that's when the smell hit me again—cat food! I had completely forgotten about that amazing smell from earlier. I followed my nose to the bowl sitting in the corner and took a few bites. The flavors were rich—it must've been some kind of meat. There were little orange bits in the food, though, which I didn't like. I pushed them to the side of the bowl and ate only the tasty parts.
After a few minutes, I finished eating and turned around to find Monica watching me closely. I walked over to her and jumped up onto the kitchen counter. Apparently, her mother didn't like that. She waved her hands and told Monica to put me back down so I wouldn't get used to jumping on things like that. Monica looked a bit annoyed but did as she was told. She placed her phone on the counter, got up from her bar stool, and gently picked me up.
With my paws swinging in the air, Monica held me against her belly with one arm and carried me through the apartment into her room. The walls were painted a soft yellow, and her bed took up nearly half the space. The other half of the bed was covered with a mountain of plushies. She set me down gently on the blanket and stroked my back, trying to get me to stay.
I took a few steps on the bed—it was so fluffy that my paws sank into the soft blanket. Curious, I went to sniff the plushies. They were shaped like all kinds of animals. Monica suddenly remembered something. Her face lit up, and she quickly got off the bed and ran to another room. When she came back, her arms were full of cat plushies—each one different.
I sat down and watched as she lined them up in front of me, one by one.
A few seconds later, she gasped. Her eyes widened, and so did mine. In her hands, she held a plushie that looked just like me. She placed it beside me for comparison. I didn't move an inch. I couldn't help but wonder—was this why she picked me and not another cat?
Monica was so excited she called for her mother to come into her room. She proudly showed her the lookalike plushie sitting next to me. Her mother seemed excited for Monica, too. She pulled her into a hug, gave me a few gentle pets, and then went back out of the room.
Monica started gathering the plushies again, this time setting up a small sleeping area on the bed just for me. She arranged a cozy little corner with pillows and plushies where I could curl up comfortably.
Curious, I explored the room a little more. I jumped up onto her table and saw a drawing of a flower still lying there. It looked like she had made it not too long ago. Her watercolor set was still open, and as I landed, my paw went straight into the red paint. I flinched and quickly pulled it back—but then stepped right back onto the table with my now red-colored paw and unknowingly left prints all over it.
Monica noticed a few minutes later. She laughed as she came over and gently picked me up to bring me into the bathroom.
There, she gave my paws a gentle wash, though the paint didn't fully come out of my fur. She told me with a giggle that it'd have to stay like this for now, and maybe I shouldn't jump on everything. She dried my fur with a towel and carried me back to her room, placing me onto the little bed she had made for me.
I laid down and watched Monica quietly as she cleaned her table, wiping away the little red paw prints I had left behind. Before I knew it, my eyes closed again, and I drifted off to sleep.