“I am Elwha, cat.”

I love my brother, but I must demur with him. He worries so.

It is true that we nearly starved as kittens. Our first mother disappeared and we cried and cried. We were picked up and brought to a strange cage place, with many many animals. It smells of fear and grief. Some of the cats are older and displaced. They have lost their families and are very sad.

Still, there was food! My brother is worse off than me, and often shoulders me aside when the food comes. I slap him with my claws if he is difficult and I get enough to eat. They give us more food than we can finish.

People handle us and pet us daily. At first I don’t like it but then I do. Elwha has a louder purr than me but I don’t care. The people must earn it.

Two women come one day and handle me and Elwha. They leave. Two days later we go to a very strange place and sleep. I wake groggy and kick my brother. The women are back and we are put in a smaller cage. This worries me but I am so groggy that I cannot fight. We are shaken for a while and then she lets us out.

In what turns out to be home and she is Mother now.

I am helping Elwha with his installations in the bowl. It is silly. We are not going to be starved. In fact, Elwha was getting portly and now he is a finer figure of a tom. Mother feeds us in separate rooms. I don’t put offerings in MY bowl, but I am willing to help him. We both enjoy the tissue paper, especially when it is red. It’s a bit of a waste to get it wet, but it makes him happy. I enjoyed shredding the last piece on the stairs, like a scene of death and destruction. I would dearly love to do the same to the birds, but Mother takes us out with harness only. I still like to go out.

I am Sol Duc.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: demur.