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or a steak. I have also sped my growth up slightly. She hasn’t noticed. Probably because they told her I was going to be a big cat, so she is expecting the rapid growth.
    What is she doing now? I wonder. I was nearly asleep with the feel of her hands on my back. Why did she have to stop? I hadn’t thought I would like anyone petting me. When the kids came over, I hid. They weren’t rough with me or anything; I just didn’t like them touching me. I didn’t like her sister doing it either, though, she doesn’t seem to like cats much and doesn’t feel the need to touch me that often.
    Abby on the other hand, makes me feel calm when she touches me, makes me feel as if this entire messed up situation is going to be just fine. I don’t know how she does it or what it is about her that calms me, but she does.
    If I was human, I probably wouldn’t have given her much thought. I know that is sad, but it’s true. To hear my brothers talk, I didn’t pay attention to most women. When I did, boy, I picked real winners, let me tell you. I’m not saying she isn’t pretty; she is lovely, and she isn’t all that overweight. I actually like women with curves. I like them soft and smooth.
    Okay, I gotta shift directions. I’ve never had a boner in this form, and I don’t want to start now with her looking right at me. Well, she isn’t actually looking at me as much as looking through me. She is thinking hard about something.
    No, it is more the aura she has around her. She seems happy on the surface, but the feelings radiating off her are ones of self-doubt and deprecation. She hates herself. I mean hates herself. She isn’t one of those people who talks to herself all of the time, despite the fact that she lives alone, but when she does, nine times out of ten, she is putting herself down over something.
    Trying to figure out what has her contemplating so hard, I turn to look at the monitor. A page full of exercise equipment stares back at me. A part of me wishes I was human enough to chide her for it, but I can’t fault anyone fat, skinny, or somewhere in between for wanting to get into shape. I’m glad she isn’t dieting. I hate when people diet. They always go to the extreme.
    Feeling bad about her sad mood, I nudge her hand with my head. She smiles down at me and begins to pet my head.
    Sighing hard, she says to no one, “I’ve got to do it. I don’t have the dedication for it. Maybe if I have it here, in the house, right in front of me, I will feel guilty and pushed into doing it. I’m sick of being this way, and sick of men like Devan being nice to me to save my feelings.”
    Knowing that what Devan thought about her matters to her annoys me. On the other hand, I really wish I could have told her that Devan was being honest. I could tell by the tone in his voice that he had thought she was something special. Devan had only one type of girl. He fell for any woman with a bright smile and intelligent conversation. The problem is that most of our women are pains in the ass, not that that is their fault. They are the product of generation after generation of man handling.
    Pack life has been getting better for them. We as a gender are learning to control our animal instincts. Our males tend to be more animal and primal. Whereas our women are more human and reasonable.
    Unfortunately, Devan prefers more laidback easygoing women, and most of the women we know are on guard at all times and very high strung. Abby is definitely his type, and this chaps my ass for some reason.
    “I have to do this,” she mumbles.
    I watch her turn back to the computer and order a treadmill and a set of wireless headphones. I assume she bought the headphones so that she can hear the television over the machine. With her order confirmed, she gets up and goes to the kitchen to make herself a grilled cheese. I follow her.
    “You are being exceptionally needy today,” she says over her shoulder. “Is it because of our visitor or because I