Combos for Cats

I was sitting on my bed, smoking a bowl, staring at the bathtub. I hated taking baths. I had never willingly taken a bath in my entire life; I was almost positive of that. The idea of taking a shower, and therefore not have to sit around wallowing in my own filth, was one of the few genuinely useful concepts my parents had ever actually introduced me to. After my introduction to showering, I never took a bath again.

I wasn’t about to start now.

There must be some way to hook up a showerhead, I figured.

Behind me, someone knocked on my window, which spooked me a bit. Me being on the third floor and all.

Standing on the fire escape outside my window was an orange cat, so skinny his ribs were showing. He was bumping his head into my window.

‘Yo,’ I said to it, waving a hand dismissively. ‘Beat it.’ 

‘Mow.’ said the cat. I could hear it faintly.

‘I have nothing for you.’ I said, looking around my room trying to think if I had anything it might like.

‘Mow.’ it said, bumping its head into the window.

I had a package of Combos: pretzel shell with pizza flavored processed cheese squeezed inside. It looked a little like dog kibble, if you wanted to be ungenerous.  

Opening the window proved to be a bit of a challenge, as someone had decided to paint it shut; several times, by the look of it. Most recently in toothpaste blue. When the window finally did open, it did so with a tremendous cracking sound, which initially startled the emaciated cat. It ran off down a couple steps.

‘C’mere asshole.’ I said, shaking the package of Combos. The cat came running inside my room, standing on the table just inside. ‘Mow.’ it said, as if rather pleased with itself.

I shook a single Combo out onto the table, then ate two or three myself. The cat sniffed at the kibble-like piece, then licked at it, sending it sliding across the surface of the table.  I caught it before it fell off. ‘Careful.’ I said, for no reason. It’s not like the cat knew what I was saying.

The cat took another half lick before snatching the Combo up in its mouth and chewed at it, biting off some of the pretzel. It was only at this point I wondered if pretzel was even something a cat should eat. I figured most dry cat food was made of corn meal or something similar, how bad could pretzel be?

Then I wondered what pretzel was made of. I had never thought about it before. Had to be corn, I figured. But it could just be bread. Damn: a mystery. I ate another Combo, chewing slowly and trying to identify a flavor. The only flavor I could put a name on would be ... bland.

‘Mow.’ said the cat. It had finished its Combo.

‘Here.’ I said, and tossed another piece out onto the fire escape.

The cat ran after it.

‘So long, Xylophone.’ I said, closing the window.

I ate the rest of the Combos in less than five minutes.

I did not take a bath.