Watch the TV..... Watch, Angie.... WATCH!!!.... I'm watching, geez...... Hey, Angie, look!.... There was a panda flying at my face, suddenly it stopped right in front of me. Then, the panda started purring and rubbing against my face..... isn't he cute?? I heard Chris say.
"Whhaa....?" I groaned, opening my eyes. Chris was holding a black cat up to my face. Chris and the cat seemed to have matching stupid grins on their faces. I sneezed, "What?"
Chris giggled, "Do you like him? His name is Ger10. Or, at least that's what his collar said.
I sat up, "Chris...." Chris quietly stared at me for a bit before he cracked, "Okay, I found him by the school building and their was this weird bird sitting on his head and as I was walking home from Math Club, this cat started following me. I turned around and told it to stay. It looked up at me and meowed a long mournful meow, the bird seemed to cry with it. Oh, it was so sad, Angie."
I rolled my eyes, I knew what was coming. Chris shifted from foot to foot, continuing his dramatic speech. "So, I picked him up and he started purring! Purring, Angela! So, I decided to take him home, y-you know, he was reaaaally skinny. And I told the bird to please get off of his head, you know, because you seemed to get mad the last four times a brought birds home.... But it wouldn't, so I politely removed it, setting it on a park bench. It just stared up at me for a minute and then made a very sad sound. I wasn't sure what to do and so I walked home. So, um...." Chris bit his lip, glancing up at me. "So.... Do you think I could keep him? Please?" My little brother is so predictable.
"No, Chris." I said hollowly, sneezing.
"Oh, please, Angie! Just look at him!" Chris held the cat up to my face again, it purred loudly. Wow, that cat was so weird. I mean, sure it was cute, but it made a weird face whenever it was right by my face. A pleasant one, but still creepy. It was as if it was giving me a weird cheeky smile, saying, Oh Angie, why won't you love me? "No, Chris." I said, sneezing again.
"But whhhyyy?" Chris moaned.
I sneezed for the third time, "Chris, I'm allergic to cats. And plus, having a cat won't help your asthma."
Chris sighed, "I know, but Ger10 needs a home! Just look at him-"
"Chris," I interrupted, "We are not keeping the cat. End of story."
"Which brand of cat litter is best?" Dad asked the guy at Petsmart. The guy held up a bag of litter. "This one."
Chris held Ger10 next to me, beaming like he had just won the lotto. Ger10 seemed to beam with him. That cat was so weird.
We bought a bunch of crap for the cat (food, dishes, a bed, litter, toys, in which Chris had gone totally overboard with, etc). My brother is so annoying, he acts like a four-year-old. I had to listen to him cooing the cat in the backseat. I half expected him to have the cat dressed like a baby within the next twenty minutes. The cat wouldn't mind this, I'm sure. I don't know what's up with Ger10 the cat, it's just, well..... weird.
As soon as we got out of the car, we saw a small shadow cross above the car, we all looked up. Soon, a small grey bird dive bombed and dropped a bomb on Chris. Yikes! Right in the face.
I giggled, trying hard not to laugh. Chris stood, in shock, for a bit. "ANGIE!" He hollered. Geez, that kid is going to live with Mom and Dad for the rest of his life, isn't he?...... and he'll probably expect me to stay with him.
My maternal-sisterly instincts kicked in, "Oh, Chris, Honey! Are you okay?"
Ger10 leapt out of Chris's arms and frantically started hopping at the bird, but not in a evil I'm-gonna-rip-you-to-shreds-usual-cat way, more friendly than that.
I cocked my head to the side as the bird fluttered over to Ger10, settling happily on his head.
"Angie!" Chris screeched again. He opened his eyes and pointed a finger at the bird, shouting. "That's it! That's the bird! The bird that was on Ger10's head!"
"Enough, Chris. Let's go inside." Dad said.
"It went to the bathroom on my face!" Chris hollered. I sighed, trying to be patient as pedestrians glanced as us curiously. I put my arm around him, taking out a tissue. "Come on,
Buddy Boy, let's go inside so we can get you cleaned up."
Dad picked up Ger10, shooing the bird and we went inside.
Chris whimpered and hollered and cried as I tried desperately to wash the bird crap out of my brother's hair, which was proven to be more difficult than I had expected. This
was especially hard because I was not a trained hair-de-poop-er and my brother
happened to be a professional complainer.
This cat was going to cause trouble, I could feel it already.
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