Samuel's Cat

After Samuel died, we met in my apartment to figure out who would take care of his cat.

”So who wants it?” said Jessie.

The room fell silent. Jacob from upstairs was looking out the window, Sasha was staring into her coffee mug, Jacob from downstairs and his wife exchanged glances.

”The we should give him away,” said Jessie.

”Wait,” I said, “You mean like a shelter? What will happen to him if we give him to a shelter?"

"Are there cat shelters?” said Jacob from upstairs.

”I think there are,” said Jacob from downstairs’s wife, “But we should try and give him to a family.”

I looked at the cat licking his paw in the corner. He had been staying with me since we found Samuel.

”Is it a he?” I asked.

”Yeah,” said Jessie.

”What’s his name?” I asked.

”It’s ugh-” said Jacob from upstairs, “Mr. something-or-other, I think."

"Mr. Pinkle?” said Jacob from downstairs’s wife.

”I guess I can keep him,” I said, “Until I can find him a family.” The room felt lighter after I said it. Sasha laughed about something else and we changed the subject. I stole a glance at the cat every now and again. Mr. Pinkle sounded just right.

Posted by: Paweł Kowaluk