PRESENT DAY NYC
Mauro Costa hated cats, pitied them really. Where he grew up the kids threw stones at them for sport. He never seemed to escape them, somehow they’d always manage to find him. He watched lazily from his couch as his neighbors cat drank his from his cereal bowl that Mauro had left out on the counter. The mangy tomcat never missed an opportunity to slip into his open window. Time after time Mauro had pleaded with his neighbor to keep the cat off the fire escape, but still that cat would appear in his home any time he tried to let in some fresh air.
Eventually Mauro realized the neighbor didn’t want the cat in the first place, happy to let it wander into other people’s homes; Happy to accept it’s affection on their own terms but too impatient to learn his. Maybe that’s why he pitied cats so much, he related to them too well. Hated to watch someone try to take in a street cat just to throw him back out because he scratched the furniture too much.
Mauro crossed the room, kibble clinking against porcelain calling the cat over to a corner of the room where he had a food and water bowl he had set up. When he realized his neighbor wasn’t doing much to take care of the cat, Mauro took it upon himself - seeing as the cat would always find a way into his home anyways. He had even taken it to the vet when a particularly hideous skin irritation developed, weeks went by and his neighbor had done nothing and Mauro grew sick of the smell.
Not that he cared if the thing died, just come on - does he have to watch it in his own home while he’s trying to work? It’s not even his own cat. Puta que pariu.
“Come on, you little cunt. Eat that shit up and get out.” His accent was thick, curling each one of his words into a vulgar melody. The cat jumped down from the counter, bounding to the bowl in one leap. It’s fur was missing patches from where the skin irritation had festered , it’s face scrunched in discontent. An ugly little thing, and somehow the only fucker that would really give a shit if he died tomorrow.