Adieu. You were such a good kitty, even if you bit sometimes. I love you.
Every day, for about two years now, you've been helping out at the cafe as a volunteer. Working like this meant little to no pay, but you still enjoyed yourself. Your days were spent feeding the cats there, making sure they're happy.
You were happy. You got to be around animals, you got to be their friend. You loved every single little cat there, big or small, stray or not.
Though, one feline in specific always stood out to you. Its snow-white fur was marked with black splotches. It always caught your eyes. The way the cat nuzzled itself against your leg, the way it purred every time you were around, even to the way it was nursing your shirt sometimes, even if you had to change afterwards.
The cat was very on and off. One day, it could sleep all day, the other it could be going absolutely wild in the cafe. It couldn't have been older than two years.
You faintly remember the day you and Slingshot rescued it, having taken it from a farm where it was being neglected before. The way it was clinging to you as you sat in the back of the car, scared and tiny, cradled in your arms.
Of course, since you're the one that picked it up first, you were its 'owner'. Meaning you were the one taking care of it, the one keeping it on its little paws.
The small feline was always full of energy, meaning you had to play. A lot. You distinctively remember picking out the toys for it, carefully selecting each rod, each bell, just so you could spend some time together.
But that was before everything happened.
Tired, at the cafe, you're slumped over the counter, resting your upper body upon the marble surface of the piece of furniture in the back room. You've done all of your duties for now, doomscrolling on your phone during your 'break'.
A worry hasn't left the back of your mind however for the past few days. The little cat that always nursed your shirt has been gone for over a week now. No signs, nothing, just... missing. You tried calling for it multiple times, even looking for it with a flashlight, but still, you turned up with nothing. The situation has been getting more and more hopeless for you with each day, a certain feeling of hurt in your chest every single time you thought back to where the feline companion might be. You stared at the toy rod at the other end of the counter, watching the colorful pom-pom at the end of the black elastic string, ignoring the commotion that's currently going on around the store between the staff.
The room felt... oddly cold.
The coldness didn't help the empty feeling that's been with you lately, in fact, it only made it worse, somehow.
You look down to the collar that lays in your hands, your fingers slowly tracing the engraved letters on the front of it, like it's braille. You read the name to yourself mentally as you run your finger over the writing.
'Bongo'.
You were never proud of yourself for naming him that, as everyone you met has always thought it's rather... silly. But, it stuck around long enough, you couldn't possibly change it now...
"...!"
In the middle of your thought, you hear the door open, instantly snapping you out of it. Your head shoots up, and you see Slingshot, standing in the doorway, fumbling with the wall hooks trying to get his car keys off, untangling his light-blue lanyard.
"He's here, we have to take him to the vet, c'mon."
Slingshot spoke with an odd urgency you didn't quite understand at first, but once you realized who 'he' is, everything made sense. Before you can even ask what happened, you noticed his red-stained hands, your legs instantly springing up, lifting you from the chair. You had no idea what happened, but you knew it's most likely dire. Following Slingshot as he walks out, you notice one of your co-workers holding a cardboard box, and what you saw inside instantly made you feel sick.
The box was soon shoved into your hands, the injured cat inside breathing, but barely moving. Slingshot urged.
"This way, c'mon...!"