Shnooks

She felt a soft pat on her leg. Shnooks’ claws were tucked into his paws, but he needed something and needed it now.

“Hungry? Want some wet food?”

The black cat blinked, and his pink tongue limned the matching triangle of his nose.

She stroked his black fur and tickled his ears. “Funny cat. C’mon. Yum-yum time?” Shnooks followed Gerty into her little kitchen and sat primly by the sink. She took a can from the refrigerator and turned on the hot water tap. Shnooks licked his white paws and wiggled his rear while watching her warm his chicken tidbits.

“There you go. Enjoy.”

The slightly hefty cat dug in, and Gerty returned to her computer. She scrolled through the news, then stopped at one of the bold headlines. It was reporting  a strange new virus spreading rapidly in a Chinese city she’d never heard of. Thinking like Ebola, maybe? Somebody’s going to make a vaccine, I’m sure, she slipped down to the end of the online stories and turned off her computer.

Shnooks had licked clean his food bowl, which she washed and set aside to drain. Cereal tonight, I think. Don’t feel like cooking. The new virus story bothered her. She tapped her mobile, Notifications filled the screen. The virus had spread to Seattle. People in a nursing home were dying from it. A teenager caught it, too, and was hospitalized in critical condition. What’s going on? I don’t understand how this virus spread so fast? she thought. She zapped some instant oatmeal in the microwave, sprinkled some nuts and dried berries on top, and ate while reading a New Yorker short story, another tale about a dysfunctional couple, another “downer” story. Isn’t there any good news anymore?

Shnooks must have read her mind. She barely heard his meow as he jumped into her lap and pressed his head against her chest. “Well, you are my ‘good news’ today. My little guy. At least we have each other.” She wondered, maybe we’ll be alone together for quite some time. She finished her supper and turned off her phone.