Premonitions in the Night

The night started wrong. No midnight kibble, no water. Both bowls pulled after dark like I was headed for lockup. By morning, the alarm went off early — 7 a.m., sharp. The human didn’t make coffee, didn’t swallow his usual handful of pills. He went straight for a canvas box with mesh windows. My old fascination. I used to perch on top of it. This time, he opened the door and I stepped inside like a sap. He zipped it shut, scooped me up, and we were on the move.

Back to the Joint

I hadn’t been in that car since the day I got sprung from the pound — or jail, as I like to call it. I howled the whole way. Something in me knew we were headed back. And I was right. Dropped at 8 a.m., they said. Spayed, they said. Pick up at 3 p.m.

The Reveal

The human showed up on time. But the news wasn’t what he expected. Not spayed — neutered. “There’s no mistake,” the desk clerk said. “No other black cats today. No doubt about it. Luna’s a boy.”

The human argued. Said he’d asked for a female, even bent his rules about age. He’d been sold a story, and now it smelled rotten. Sunset Cove — that’s what the file said. Same name in the chip. Sold off cheap for twenty-five bucks while the others went for a hundred, two at a time. A bargain bin black cat with a cover story attached. Honest mistake, or a setup to move me out the door?

The Choice

They told him he had options. Swap me for another cat. Walk away. Pretend the last month never happened. But the guy’s no monster. He’d brought me home, bought me toys, fed me like family. You don’t dump family back at the pound. So he signed the papers. Sunset Cove, officially adopted.

Coming Home

I was loopy, drugged up, staggering like a drunk gumshoe at closing time. But I knew that voice when I heard it at the desk. I meowed the whole ride home — not scared, just buzzing, like the walls were melting around me.

Back at the flat, he let me out of the box. I wobbled, barely able to stand. He carried me to the litter box, and somehow I managed. Took three hours before the fog lifted. He kept staring, weighing the name. Luna. Pretty name. Pretty cover. Even Luna Bella, the Albanian goddess had called me. For a moment I almost liked it, forgot I was a boy.

But the truth was out now. The cover cracked, the con exposed. And somewhere down the line, the name would have to change.

—Sunset Cove 🐾