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Gregory crammed his hands in his pockets and stalked down the sidewalk. What a lousy day. Eight hours of being on his feet, restocking shelves with the groceries people had abandoned all over the store.
It was definitely time to kick back and relax in total quiet. Some of his coworkers went out for drinks or dinner after their shifts, but that sounded awful. How did they deal with all the noise?
No, it was time for a good book, one that he could lose himself in. Fictional characters were so much less exhausting than actual people, and quiet besides.
He rounded the corner and paused at the sight of a cat curled up on the sidewalk. “You’re gonna get hit by a bike or something if you sleep there,” Gregory said to the ball of orange and grey fuzz. “I almost stepped on you. Pick smarter napping spots.”
The cat looked up at him and meowed. And although he didn’t know this cat, it didn’t sound like a normal meow.
“What’s wrong with you?” He knelt and reached out slowly. The cat put her ears down a little, but didn’t hiss or tense up otherwise. “Easy. Lemme look.”
He carefully nudged the cat, and she stood up. Drying blood ran down the inside of her right front leg, and she didn’t put her paw down.
“Poor thing, did you hurt yourself jumping?” He touched her leg carefully, examining it. She swished her tail, but still didn’t hiss or strike at him. “I don’t think you broke anything, just got banged up a little.”
He stroked her fur, the texture soft but a little dirty. Probably not a housecat, between that and the lack of a collar.
“Well. I guess you better come home with me.” He carefully scooped her up and hugged her to his jacket. “It’s gonna be a cold night. You don’t need to be out in that sort of weather.”
He walked home at a slower pace, trying not to jostle the cat just in case she was hurt more than she seemed to be. She nuzzled into his jacket, then started to rub her face against his beard.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re a cuddler, huh?” Gregory let himself into the apartment, shifted the cat into one arm, and grabbed the first aid kit he kept under the kitchen sink. They went to the recliner, and he put the cat on his lap. “Okay, that’s a safer napping spot for you. Lemme see that.”
She sank down across his lap with a sad meow, trembling just a little. He stroked her head again, then dug in the kit until he found gauze.
“We’ll just wrap this up for now and worry about cleaning you up later, okay? I don’t wanna get your fur wet when you’re cold.” He carefully wrapped the injured leg, making sure it covered the cut. “Lucky for you, I grew up on a ranch. Little out of practice and you’re smaller than a horse, but I can still wrap a mean bandage.”
Still purring, she rubbed against his hand again, and he smiled. It had been a long time since he had a cat. It might not be totally quiet in his apartment anymore, but purrs and meows were sounds he could live with.