Benjamin 59w6o

Benjamin

Anne Ogle

Copyright © 2018 by Anne Ogle.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018902954 ISBN: Hardcover 978-1-9845-1247-5 Softcover 978-1-9845-1246-8 eBook 978-1-9845-1245-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 03/07/2018

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CONTENTS

1 Abandoned

2 Benjamin to the Rescue

3 Canary Hunt

4 Caught

5 Oregon Humane Society

6 Butch and Maui

7 Benjamin and the Baby

8 Anne and Sara

9 Murryhill Veterinary Hospital

10 Fur-ever Home

For all animals, large and small.

The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.

—Mahatma Gandhi

ONE Abandoned

“W ill somebody throw the cat out. The movers will be here in a few minutes. Toss those dirty cat bowls and cat toy in the garbage,” my human screamed.

“Throw me out? What did I do?” I howled.

I gave my spine a twist in the air and landed on my feet. I slithered under the bushes as two moving vans pulled up in the driveway. I crouched low, wrapping my tail around myself, and lowered my ears. My whiskers drooped as I watched my family drive away in their car, followed by the vans. I hoped they would come back for me, but deep down inside, I knew they wouldn’t.

I should introduce myself. My name is Benjamin, and I’m a tuxedo cat. According to Wikipedia.com, “pets are abandoned for a variety of reasons. Often, when abandoned, pets are forced to fend for themselves.”

I don’t know why they left me. I never did anything except sit on the couch, watch TV, and play with the computer when they left it on. Come to think about it, I ate a three-day-old pizza and vomited on the white carpet. If they hadn’t wanted me to eat the pizza, they shouldn’t have left it out.

Something moved next to the garbage can.

I swallowed, twitched my ears back, and lay flat on the ground. My body tensed. I prepared to flee at the first sign of danger. I didn’t make a sound. I listened, sniffing the air. It smelled of rotting garbage.

I glared at the garbage can. Something about it made me anxious. I closed my eyes and then opened them. Mousy! They threw away my cat toy. He may have been a dirty cat toy to my humans, but he was my cat toy.

My ears pricked in anger. I batted the ground with my paws. I arched my back, fluffed up my tail, and hissed at the garbage can. “Hang in there, Mousy. I’m coming to get you!” I yowled.

TWO Benjamin to the Rescue

I hissed at the garbage can and bumped it.

The can wobbled but didn’t fall.

I crouched down and jumped, but I missed the can and landed on the garage door, sliding to the ground. My face felt smashed as I shook my head. “That will give me a headache.” Meow. I thought that only happened in cartoons.

I backed farther away and zoomed in the air, missing the can and landing in a mud puddle. “I hate water!” I yowled. While I licked my fur, I thought about how I could bring this monster down.

In my next attempt, I backed into the bushes and wiggled my butt. Pushing myself into the air, I did a half axel twist like an ice skater, smashing on top of the garbage. I dug my claws into the bags.

The can tilted.

I did the kitty shuffle, trying to hang on. “Timber!” I howled.

The can crashed to the ground, rolling down the driveway.

I leaped away, but it rolled on top of my tail. “Ouch! That will put a permanent kink in it.” Meow.

“What’s all the noise?” a human shouted.

I better get Mousy before someone comes out to investigate. I found him under some stale cigarettes and coffee grounds. I washed him in the open faucet. My ears twitched back and forth like an antenna. I heard something in my neighbor’s house.

THREE Canary Hunt

As I marched in the tall grass toward my neighbor’s house, I chanted, “Wait and watch, crouch and stalk, pounce, grab prey with one paw, kill the prey by biting the neck, and rip and swallow. It’s suppertime!” I let out a yowl.

I could hear a vacuum cleaner. I peeked in the window and saw Mrs. White with her headphones on, listening to music as she vacuumed. As usual, she had put Charlie, her canary, out on the back stoop.

The canary stopped singing. “I thought I saw a cat.” Tweet.

I made a slicing motion with my claw across my throat. I crouched as I got closer to the cage, slithering on my stomach.

The bird screeched.

I can do this. I brought down a garbage can. What is a defenseless canary going to do? I pounced on the cage.

The canary screamed.

I batted at the cage, pawing at Charlie through the bars.

He yelled.

I dug my claws into the latch and pulled.

The cage rolled, but the latch didn’t open.

I got off the cage and walked around it, snarling at the canary. “I am a panther in the jungle. I, the great cat, will bring down this bird!” I yowled. I grabbed the cage by the top and swung it in the air toward the garage door.

The cage slammed into the door.

I pounced on it and shook it.

Charlie shrieked.

I grabbed the cage and smashed it into the door. I panted, trying to get my breath. Then I slammed it into the door with all my might.

The latch sprang open, and Charlie flew out.

I leaped in the air and caught him with one paw, like a wide receiver in football. I raced under the bushes and killed my prey by biting his neck. I ripped and swallowed, feathers and all. On second thought, I should have un-feathered him, but I was so hungry. “It’s suppertime, Mousy,” I mumbled between mouthfuls. What was left of the bird I buried in the ground for later. My eyes shut, and I dozed off.

When I woke up, I had the worst stomachache of my life. I belched. I saw a red light and heard the siren of a police car next door. I crouched low to the ground. My ears twitched back and forth. I listened. I heard angry voices, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying.

FOUR Caught

I crouched low to the ground, tucked in my tail, and ducked my head. I heard footsteps. I flattened my ears and pulled back my whiskers, trying to make myself small. I heard voices.

“I got better things to do than chase canary birds on a Saturday evening,” whispered a male voice.

“Come on, Hal, we promised to help the old lady find her lost bird,” a female voice replied.

“I don’t see anything,” the man said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Over there, under the bushes, I thought I saw something,” the woman said. “Give me your flashlight.”

A bright light shined in my eyes.

“There’s the criminal,” said the male police officer. “Caught red-handed. It’s the big house for you, kitty.”

I chomped on his hand when he reached for me.

“Ouch!” the policeman yelled.

“I’d bite you too if I were as scared as him. He’s shaking. Go bring the car around,” said the woman. “It’s okay, kitty.” She reached under the bushes, petting my head with a finger.

I couldn’t help myself. I purred. Then I belched, and a yellow feather popped out of my mouth.

The woman laughed.

I gave a half-hearted struggle before they put me in the cage. I didn’t feel well. We were leaving when I ed something. “You must go back. You forgot Mousy!” I howled.

FIVE Oregon Humane Society

“G o get some coffee, Hal. I’ll take the kitty inside,” said the female officer.

I was sick. I tried to make out the sign on the door, but the words blurred. It read: Oregon Humane Society. As the doors opened, I could see bright lights. There were cages with animals, but they weren’t crying out for help.

“Who do we have here?” asked the woman at the front desk.

“His family abandoned him,” said the officer.

“Poor baby. We’ll fix him up. Thanks for bringing him.” She telephoned for an assistant.

The officer leaned in and petted my head. “Don’t worry, these people will take good care of you.”

An assistant came from the back room.

When she picked up my cage, I vomited, spraying yellow feathers on everybody.

“Hal will never let me in the patrol car. You don’t happen to have a clean shirt I can borrow?”

“In the back. Come on, kitty, let’s get you cleaned up,” said the assistant. She continued to talk to the officer as they walked. “I’ll give him a bath, and then I’ll have the vet check him.”

I belched, vomiting yellow feathers.

Both women laughed.

Bath! Vet! I whimpered and cowered in the corner of the cage. I tucked in my tail, flattened my ears, and pulled back my whiskers. I wrinkled my nose as I smelled the antiseptic cleanser that clung to the walls of the room. If they were going to put me down, why would they bother to bathe me?

I protested as the assistant shoved me into the tub and hosed me down. I must it that the water felt good, and her hands were soft as she lathered me with the suds. I sneezed. She dried me with a towel and then brushed my fur. I hissed when she touched my backside.

“You have a lot of tangles, but we won’t worry about them now,” she said as she put me in a cage and carried me to a large room, placing the cage on the table.

Exhausted, I didn’t make much of a fuss.

The vet slapped my side, then felt my tummy. He checked my eyes and ears and listened to my heart. “This kitty looks good,” he said as he petted my head.

The assistant took me into a large room, which had another cat and a kitten in it. “You can stay here as long as you like, but I hope you find a new home,” she said.

“Hello, gorgeous,” I said to a white Persian cat. Meow.

She whacked my face with a paw. “Keep a civil tongue in your mouth, junior,” she hissed.

Before I could say anything, the kitten touched me on the side. “I heard you brought down a garbage can and ate a canary,” he said.

I sat on my haunches and held my head high. “Word travels fast here,” I said as I cleaned between my toenails. Meow.

The lady cat swatted me.

“Now what?” I asked.

“Tell the kitten the truth about eating birds.”

“The truth? You shouldn’t eat birds, except, of course, if you’re starving.”

The lady cat hit me.

Rubbing my face, I turned to the kitten and whispered, “I hope you find a nice place to live and they feed you good food. Then you won’t have to eat birds.”

The lady sauntered toward me.

I backed away from her.

She brushed my side and purred.

A volunteer came into the room. “Benjamin, there is someone here to see you,” he said as he lifted me.

“Can’t you see I’m busy here? Take the kitten. He wants to find a home.” I howled.

“Goodbye, Mr. Benjamin,” said the kitten as I left the room. Meow.

SIX Butch and Maui

The volunteer brought me into a room where they showed the cats. A young man sat by himself.

“Hello, Benjamin. How would you like to go home with me?”

I sniffed him. He smelled of cat and dog. “No, thanks, pal. I’d rather stay here.” Meow.

“I’ll take him,” said the man.

“Don’t you understand ‘cat’? I want to stay here.” I yowled.

They put me in a strange carrier, and I howled all the way to his house. When he got there, he opened the carrier.

I got out, looking all around me. I sniffed the air. I could smell a dog.

“Hi there, new cat,” growled a large German shepherd. “My name is Butch.” Woof.

I arched my back, fluffed up my tail, and jumped away from him, hissing while doing a kitty shuffle.

“You’re funny,” said the dog.

“You want a piece of me?” I yowled.

“You’re new here. You’ll learn who the boss is, and it isn’t me.”

I spotted what looked like a cat but might have been a rat. “What’s that?” I whispered to Butch. Meow.

“That’s not a what. That’s a who. That’s Maui. She’s a sphynx.”

She looked weird. I sniffed her. She had wrinkled skin and a long rat tail. I jumped on the velvet couch, spreading my legs like a rifle, and cleaned my butt with my tongue.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Butch.

“Who’s going to stop me?”

“No!” a human screeched.

I dug my claws into the couch.

“That’s the boss,” whispered Butch.

A young lady had walked into the room. She screamed. Then she walked over to the coffee table and picked up a magazine. She walked toward me, rolling it up, and then whacked me with it.

“Ouch! That hurt, lady.”

The lady kept hitting me as I slithered off the couch.

“Bathroom?” I asked Butch.

“In the kitchen,” he answered.

“You have a human bathtub in the kitchen?”

“I thought you meant a litter box. The human’s bathroom is down the hall, third door on the right.”

The lady continued to smack me.

“Why do you need a bathtub?” asked Butch.

“Safety,” I shouted as I ran down the hall.

“Gerald!” the woman screeched.

“Yes, dear,” answered the young man.

“You take that cat back where you found him. There are cat hairs all over my couch.”

“But, dear.”

I skidded to a stop. Back where he found me. I made a U-turn, heading toward the man. I stood on my hind legs, wrapping my paws around his legs, and purred.

The woman made a move to hit me, but the man stopped her. “He’s purring. Can’t we give him another chance? He didn’t know he couldn’t sit on your couch. I can’t sit on your couch,” the man said.

“Please, I like you, man, but don’t make me stay here.” I purred and yowled at the same time.

The woman smacked her palm with the magazine, glaring at all of us. “Take that flea-bitten hound out of this house.”

“That would be me,” said Butch as he loped toward the door.

While we were going toward the door, I heard the woman talking to Maui. “Did that mean old pussycat try to hurt my poopsie-whoopsie?”

“‘Poopsie-whoopsie’?” I asked as I rode in the carrier next to Butch. Meow.

“Don’t ask,” he said. Woof.

SEVEN Benjamin and the Baby

A young couple adopted me, and I howled all the way to their house.

“You don’t think he’ll cry like that all the time?” asked the woman as she turned around in her seat, frowning at me. “I wouldn’t want him to wake up the baby.”

Nobody had said anything about a human child. “I want to go back to the Oregon Humane Society.” I yowled.

Nice place. I wandered over to a box of toys and sniffed them.

I heard a wailing sound.

It sounded like another cat. You didn’t say you had another cat.

A baby wobbled toward me, crying.

Human children do sound like cats.

He stopped and crawled toward me, gurgling.

I crouched on the floor, tucked in my tail, and flattened my ears. I tried to scoot away before he could touch me, but I bumped into the lady’s legs.

“Baby wants to play with kitty,” said the woman.

“But does kitty want to play with baby?” Meow.

The baby reached out and grabbed my ear.

“You shouldn’t pull kitty’s ears.” Meow.

“I think the kitty likes the baby,” the woman said.

“See, I told you it would be all right, honey,” the man replied.

The baby touched me with sticky fingers and yanked my tail.

You know, I think you should tell your parents you are much too young to have a pet, kid. “Stop that, small human child. It is not nice to hurt kitty.” I howled.

I watched as the baby picked up a plastic hammer out of the toy box. He whacked me with it.

“Kid, I told you, don’t touch the kitty.” I yowled.

“They’re playing,” said the woman.

“I’m not playing, lady. Kid, if you hit me once more, I’m going to bite you.” I howled.

Instead of hitting me, the kid tried to pick me up. He wrapped his arms around my stomach and pulled.

“I’m telling you, that hurts,” I screeched in a high voice.

He tried to drag me across the room, and we both fell in a heap.

“One more time and I bite. I’m not one of your stuffed animals you can carry around the room.” I yowled.

He tried to grab me. I slithered away, but not before he pulled out a large clump of my fur.

“That’s it!” I chomped on his finger.

The baby wailed.

“That cat bit baby on the finger,” the woman yelled as she wagged her finger at me. “Bad kitty!”

I got tired of her screaming and pointing her finger at me, so I bit her and ran down the hall toward the human’s bathtub.

The man came into the bathroom, shouting at me, but before I could bite him, he picked me up and threw me in the cat carrier. “I’m taking this cat back.”

“Yes!” I purred all the way to the Oregon Humane Society.

EIGHT Anne and Sara

When I got back to the large room at the Oregon Humane Society, the lady cat and the kitten were gone, and an old ragdoll cat lay curled up in the corner. He crouched low, wrapping his tail around himself, and lowered his ears. His whiskers drooped, and his blue eyes looked sad.

“Hi there, my name is Benjamin. What’s yours?” Meow.

“I’m Duke.”

“Duke. It sounds like a name for a dog, not a cat.”

“My human liked the actor Duke. You know the one.”

“I watched Westerns on TV,” I said.

I thought he had fallen asleep until he spoke again. “I lost my human.”

“I’m sorry. What happened to her?”

“She died. The kids sold the house. Nobody wanted me.”

I didn’t know what to say.

After a while, he spoke again, “Benjamin, find an older human. They make the best companions.”

I kept quiet and hopped up on the shelf and went to sleep.

A few minutes later, the volunteer came into the room. “Benjamin, there are two nice ladies to see you.”

Not you again. I pretended to sleep.

“Come on, I know you are awake,” he said, petting me.

I purred. “All right. Let’s get this over with. But no dogs, cats, babies, or small children.”

He took me to the room, where two ladies sat. The old lady smelled of dead cat, and the younger one smelled of dog, horse, and lots of cats. The old lady had lost her pet, and she wanted to replace him. I thought about what the old ragdoll had said about older humans. “There will be no cats, dogs, babies, or small children.”

Meow.

The younger one laughed. I liked her laugh.

They put me in a carrier, and I howled all the way home.

“We’re almost there, Benjamin,” said the old lady. She smiled at me as she turned around in her seat.

The younger one drove, and we must have hit every speed bump on the road. “Ouch, lady, where did you get your driver’s license—in a crackerjack box? I think you missed one.” We hit a bump, and I hit my head on the carrier. “No, you didn’t.” I howled.

I checked out the old lady’s place. I couldn’t see any cats, dogs, or small children, but I didn’t take any chances. I ran into the bathroom and hid in the bathtub. I cowered in one corner of the tub, tucked in my tail, flattened my ears, and pulled back my whiskers. I dozed off and on with one eye open.

After a while, the old lady came into the bathroom. “How are you doing, Benjamin?” she asked, petting me. “You are safe here. Stay in the bathtub if you like. I’ll be in the front room watching a baseball game if you care to me.”

I stayed in the tub and dozed until she came again. “You can stay in the tub until tomorrow when I take my shower, but you will have to get out unless you like water.”

“Of course, I don’t like water.” I yowled.

“I’m going to bed. I would think you’d be more comfortable sleeping on my bed or in your treehouse.”

“I have a treehouse?” I asked. Meow. I leaped out of the tub and wandered into the bedroom. Not only did I have a treehouse, but I also had a toy box, with lots of toy mice and other cat toys. I snuggled into the top of the treehouse.

“Good night, Benjamin,” Anne said.

“Good night, Anne.” Purr.

NINE Murryhill Veterinary Hospital

One day I lay on the bay window, watching birds and squirrels. I noticed my human bring out the cat carrier. Not a good sign. I licked and swallowed, twitching my ears back, wrapping my tail around myself. I crouched low, preparing to flee.

Sara came into the room.

I took off running behind chairs, the sofa, and under the bed. I gave them a merry chase, but in the end, they caught me. I didn’t know what I had done wrong. I didn’t vomit on the carpet. Maybe I scratched the furniture. I didn’t know why they wanted to take me back to the Oregon Humane Society.

I cowered in a corner of the carrier, whimpering. My whiskers drooped. I didn’t even cry out when Sara hit all the speed bumps. As we drove out of the complex, I noticed we drove in the wrong direction. “Sara, you’re going in the wrong way. The Oregon Humane Society is that way.”

After a short ride, we stopped. I sniffed the air. I smelled dog, cat, and other animals. “Stop bouncing the carrier, Sara, so I can read the sign on the door.” The sign read: Murryhill Veterinary Hospital.

“Vet! Not the vet. What did I do to deserve this?” I howled. “Please, anything

but the vet!” I yowled. My cries went unanswered, and we were put in a small room to wait. They let me out of the carrier. I crawled under the chairs, but my tail stuck out. I checked the wastebasket. “I’m not hiding in there.” I howled. I leaped on the counter, pawing at the cabinets. I jumped in the sink. Then I dropped to the ground as the door opened. I had enough time to put on my invisible cloak and hide behind the wastebasket.

“Hello, Benjamin,” said Dr. Hardesty as she lifted me onto the counter.

How could she see me?

She examined me, checking my ears and eyes and listening to my heart. “He’s in good shape, but I’d like to put him on a diet,” she said.

Diet? I’m not going on a diet. I sucked in my stomach and held my breath. Then I let it out with a whoosh. Maybe I could lose a few inches. I tried to squeeze under my human’s arm, but she paid no attention to me.

The vet left, and I tried to convince Sara and Anne to leave. Meow. I pawed my human’s leg, but she said I had to wait. Something about it would hurt her more than it would hurt me. I doubted that. Anne tried to pet me, but I ignored her and crawled under Sara’s chair. She would protect me.

Two ladies came in with all sorts of torture instruments. One held me down, while the other one gave me shots, clipped my nails, took my blood pressure, and drew blood. I let them have it when they snipped my backside with a razor, cutting away the tangles. I must it that I felt better without the tangles, but I wouldn’t tell them that.

When I got home, I sulked on the bay window. My teeth chattered, and I thrashed my tail. “Revenge is mine. My human will never know when or how, but I’ll get her for taking me to the vet.” I yowled.

TEN Fur-ever Home

I sat on the bay window, watching birds. I worried about my human. Glancing at my toy mice on the floor, I thought about playing with them, but they didn’t do it for me. I sighed. I wish my human would come home. Maybe something happened to her. Maybe she would never come home.

The door opened. “Hi, Benjamin. I’m home,” Anne said.

I leaped off the bay window and ran, but I stopped in the middle of the living room floor. I sat on my haunches, spreading my legs out like a rifle, and cleaned my butt. I didn’t want to appear too anxious.

“Benjamin, do you have to do that in the middle of the living room?” Anne asked.

I ignored her.

“Did you miss me? See what I brought you,” she said, rattling a package.

I couldn’t help myself. I ran down the hall. My tail was straight up in the air, and I purred, pawing at her leg. “What did you bring me?” I yowled.

“Can’t you wait until I get this out of the package?”

“Give it to me. I can open it. I have sharp claws and teeth.” Meow.

She handed me what looked like a fuzzy worm.

I glanced at it. “I give up. What is it?” Meow.

“Don’t you like it? It’s a wormy thing. You can tear it all apart like you would in the wild.”

“I never saw this thing in the wild.” Meow. I pounced on it and batted it around for a few minutes. I sighed. “What else did you get me?” Meow. I tried to crawl into the plastic bag.

Anne snatched the bag away from me. “No, you can’t play with the bag. How about some food?” She put down a plate of canned food.

“You know, this diet stuff is not bad,” I mumbled between mouthfuls. “A lot better than that dry food you give me.”

“I’m going to watch a football game if you care to me, Benjamin.”

After I finished my food, I wandered into the living room. “Who’s winning?” Meow.

“It looks like the Jaguars are winning,” Anne said.

“Take it high,” I meowed in a high voice. “Take it low,” I spoke in a deep voice. “Go Jaguars!” I yowled.

“What is all that yowling? Are you rooting for the Jaguars? Last week, you rooted for the Tigers, and the week before that, it was the Lions.”

“So what’s it to you? It’s a cat thing. If you need me, I’ll be in the computer room, playing cat game videos.” Meow.

About two hours later, my human came into the room. “Sorry, Benjamin, but the Jaguars lost. I’m hungry. I’m going to order a pizza.”

“Pizza, did you say? I want an all-meat pizza with extra anchovies.” Meow.

“Hello, I’d like a pizza delivery,” Anne said, talking into her telephone. “I want a vegetarian pizza with no anchovies.”

“No! I want an all-meat—oh, never mind, you never listen to me.” I howled.

“I’m going to watch TV,” she said.

I curled up next to her on the couch, wrapping my tail around myself and digging my claws into Anne’s leg.

“Watch the claws, Benjamin.”

“I’ve seen this show. The lawyer gets killed.” Meow.

There were gunshots on TV.

“They shot the lawyer,” Anne said.

“Told you.” Meow.

The doorbell rang, and my human went to get the pizza. Then she screamed.

I ran into the kitchen. “What is it? Somebody trying to hurt you? Let me at them. I’ll protect you. Tell me, what’s wrong?” I howled.

“They sent me the wrong pizza. This is all meat with extra anchovies. I suppose

I can eat the all-meat pizza and throw away the anchovies.”

“Please let me have the anchovies.” I yowled.

“Benjamin, you are not getting any pizza. It is not good for you. It’ll make you sick. It’s not polite to beg.”

What can I say? My human is a work in progress. Speaking of which, I see her reading. She’s not doing anything, and it’s my chance to practice my mystical mental abilities. That’s when I send mental images to her brain without speaking. It’s called mental telepathy. I stood by her chair.

“Why are you staring at me, Benjamin?”

You are getting sleepy.

“I think I’ll take a nap,” she said, yawning.

“Wrong message.” Meow. You want to play with the cat.

My human started snoring.

Rats. “I’ll have to work on my mystical messages.” Meow.