Zombie Cats

1 Feb

After Armageddon, there were very few of any mammals left, but the cats were hit worst. They got this sort of dry rot–you’d first notice a dusty smell like white chalk and slate blackboards, and then parts of its body would just crumble off into dust. They’d turn mean too, just staring and staring with their big green eyes, coughing now and then. Literally, they wouldn’t die until they finally just fell apart in a little cloud, leaving a handful of ligaments still twitching, still trying to move.

This spooked the survivors–I mean nothing happened to us because of it, but a number of us had cats (they are the number 1 post world pet because they can fend for themselves better. Dogs? Forget it) and as they turned to dust, and because we were all stressed, you just couldn’t help but think that some itch or dry skin or something would turn out to be dry rot. Such a lot of things that were unlikely, happened lately, it wouldn’t have surprised us to have one more.

So they gave me a kitten, an unsick kitten, to smash. They wanted it away, the mother had already succumbed, and besides we didn’t need to sit and watch this happen even if it wasn’t catchy. Not exactly a way to inspire starting a new world. I was supposed to kill this kitten, to make sure it was dead.

I didn’t. I just left, left the house, left the town, with a kitten in my book bag hoping I wasn’t being a fool, hoping that I wasn’t too soft-hearted.

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