yougetup | (no subject)

Miles has never tried to take a cat for a walk before, but now he's realizing there's a reason people don't do it that often.

He's felt bad that Snowflake is mostly an inside cat. They live in an apartment, and he and Jess are barely home these days-- he's got school and Spider-Man stuff, she's got Spider-Woman stuff and Freeze-lady girlfriend stuff-- so the cat's on her own a lot of the time too.

So Miles had gotten the idea to buy a harness and try to take his cat, Snowflake for a walk.

Getting her into it had been one battle, and he's got scratches all over his arms from it. Getting her to actually walk is something else.

Standing outside of The Bramford Building, he's holding Snowflake's leash, but the cat has defiantly flattened herself against the sidewalk, refusing to move at all.

"Oh, come on, you're always meowing at the door like you wanna go out," Miles says, "Now we're out."

In response, Snowflake just looks up at Miles pathetically.

I wonder if I can get my money back for the harness if it's already got cat hair on it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I smiled and scritched behind the cat's ear, then reached to feel the harness. "Oh, it's too tight," I said. "See?" I could just get one finger under the strap that was around the cat's foreleg. "You should be able to get two fingers under here." I shifted closer and felt for the slider, then shifted the strap until it settled more comfortably under in the fold of her foreleg and body.

"She must have put on a little weight since the last time she wore it," I reasoned. I didn't want to accuse this boy of making it too tight on her; he seemed too sweet to do something like that on purpose.

"Yeah, it's been kind of a while," Miles says, and he's pretty sure Cassie was probably the last one to give this a shot. It's not that Miles didn't want to, but things got pretty busy between school and Slothburger and Spider-Man stuff. It's a good thing that cats can mostly look after themselves, actually.

"Sorry, I completely didn't realize. You don't think it was hurting her or anything, do you?"

"Nah, it was just a little uncomfortable," I assured. "Kinda like wearing shoes that are a size small?" I gently rubbed the cat's belly where the strap had been, and I smiled when I felt her begin purring. "She's so cute. What's her name?"

"Snowflake," Miles says, and he tries not to let it show, how weird it is that he's got to remind Cassie of the cat's name, "She was a stray we found in the snow."

The word 'we' slips out so casually that Miles doesn't even realize he's said it until the word is already out of his mouth.

I looked up at him, surprised. "We did?" I asked. "You and me? Or. Or, the me that was here before." Part of me still wasn't convinced that it had been me, but everyone I've spoken to has known just enough to keep me uncertain.

"Uh. Yeah," Miles says, wincing.

Stupid. I hope this doesn't make her feel weird about this whole thing. I mean, it's gotta be completely weird anyway, right? But now I'm just making it worse.

"When you were here before. The... the other you. Snowflake was more your cat than mine."

That explained why the cat had such a good reaction to me, I guess. "She's awfully cute," I said. "And you . . . after I left, you looked after her?" That was very sweet of him, I thought. I couldn't help the small smile on my face.

This is completely weird, but she's being cool about it.

"I couldn't just let her end up homeless," Miles says, "She was really rough-looking when we found her; I don't think she'd want to go back to that."

And Miles wouldn't want that for Snowflake either.