I Should Have Eschewed the Little Dude.

i just got back from a long and chilly walk. i waited all day, babysitting until around four, then i finally got the freedom i desired. i got all bundled up and headed out at a very slow and leisurely pace, talking to myself as loudly as i would talk to a friend beside me, trying and succeeding to drown out my own thoughts with the words from my mouth. i made sure to take time to compare this time of year to the others, noting how gray and still everything is. nothing moves; there isn't a soul around and not the slightest breeze to make the trees sway. the overcast skies cast a shadow on everything, making my town seem old and sick. still, i had a nice chat with myself.
i walked uptown and circled the square, getting my bearings before getting the courage to go into my favorite and least favorite coffee place. every time i go there, i waste somewhere around four dollars or more on some crappy coffee and walk away very irritated with myself. so i bought myself a $3.50 white mocha and headed off, cursing my lack of financial responsibility and inability to try new beverages. i shoved my hat back on, ignoring any looks i got for having a giant puffball on my head, and slowly made my way over to Howard Park ("Make-out Park," as my dad says), where my conversation was interrupted. she came over and talked to me. she was very petite and pretty, and very amiable. no, silly, dani doesn't make human friends. this friend was a cat. i took a moment to talk with her and stroke her freezing body with my coffee-warmed hands, then got up to go.
well, "Little Dude," as i dubbed her, wasn't willing to stay at the park alone, even though she must have lived just a few feet away. she began to follow me. well, of course i enjoyed her company, and of course i wasn't going to stop talking to her - hey, i had been talking before i even met her; i wasn't going to stop - so she kept on following me.
"Little Dude," i told her, "you and i must go our separate ways. i know where you live, and this isn't the direction. i live here and you live there. go home!"
but of course my voice isn't very scary, and Little Dude kept on following. she walked ahead of me, going up to every door we passed, hoping it was my house so that she could get inside and warm up. i kept telling her that she had a home and that she would be missed if she kept on following me. i shouldn't have been talking to her, but like i said: i was talking before i bumped into her, so i wasn't going to stop. she followed me for a long while, stopping at every door, and i told her where cats lived and where dogs lived, reminding her every now and again that i have three cats at home. she didn't care. at one point, she stopped and i hoped she was going home, but then i heard panicked meows and, being the compassionate cat-liker that i am, i turned around to find that Little Dude was pressed against the ground by some furry black-and-white cat.
"who are you?" i asked it firmly. "what do you think you're doing? c'mon, Little Dude." and she did come away, just like that, without any fear of the other cat jumping on her when her back was turned.
maybe that was my mistake. maybe saving her from a mauling convinced her that i would take her in and shelter her from the cold, and maybe i believed that, too. so we went on our way, coming to a home that houses about eight or nine cats. of course two or three of them made their way to stare at Little Dude, and of course she stepped a little bit closer and growled at them, but i reminded her gently that she was too small to fight and that my house was only a block or so away. she turned around and continued to follow me.
well, what was i supposed to do? let her get killed by a pack of huge cats? nooo!
so she came home with me, greeted almost immediately by my three angry cats. Lily stood up, her winter coat bristling like mad; how dare another she-cat show up on her turf! i made an arc around the angry calico, and Little Dude followed me hesitantly to the door, which i opened for both of us. well, Cricket (my kid brother named him, not me) came out, saw Little Dude, puffed up and froze. and i mean that. he didn't move a muscle, even when i poked him with my toe. so Little Dude rushed past him into the warm of my house, where Wrigley sat on the couch. he tensed instantly, but Little Dude didn't even notice him. she skipped around happily, sniffing the floor and enjoying the warm -until she peeked up at the couch and saw Wrigley. then she rushed away and i began to panic as my parents pulled into the drive; my mother hates animals. actually, she hates everything. except, maybe, herself. so of course she freaked when i warned her that there was someone else's cat in our house. she screamed at me, telling me it was all my fault (hey, i think it's only partially my fault) that it followed me home, and now that i had fed it, it wouldn't leave and how dare i bring a stray into the house? i told her that it wasn't a stray - clearly, it had a collar - but she was so pissed. seriously mad. so i scooped up Little Dude and put her back on the front porch, where Cricket and Lily still sat, shocked at the appearance of a strange cat. well, of course they pinned her up against the side of the house as soon as i shut the door. as i sit here now, two hours later, i can still hear her meowing. my parents refuse to drive me back to Howard Park - oh, no, i could i return somebody's pet? that's just unthinkable - so poor Little Dude is outside, lost and in danger. it hurts to think about who i may have accidentally taken her away from; what if some little girl is outside right now, calling out for her furry best friend, who she may never see again? i feel just awful...
i don't know what i was thinking, bringing her home. i suppose i thought that she could warm up for a little bit, then mom and dad would smile and nod and let me pack her up in the pet carrier and ship her back to her home, but i don't know where i got that idea. i have been reminded more than once today of why i do not want to live with my parents. this poor story of a lonely, cold kitty is definitely what upset me most, but there's also mom's selfishness over shoes. instead of expressing concern for my feet because my right converse shoe has a hole big enough for my foot to fall out of, mom expressed anger at the fact that i had twice asked my biology teacher for duct tape to patch up the hole. mom believes that, by doing this, i have made our family seem like trash and made her seem like a bad mother. here's how i see it: i'm old enough to have my own job and old enough to purchase my own shoes. if my teacher thinks anything about the hole in my shoe, which she doesn't, she probably wonders why i don't buy me some new shoes, not why my mother doesn't. maybe you're wondering why i don't buy new shoes. well, my current shoes are fine. they've got sentimental value. they make me happy. things that make me happy generally piss off my mom, i'm noticing. oh, well. my brother high-tailed it out of here, and even though he's living at a friend's house with three outfits to choose from, i envy him. he's free to have whatever makes him happy... so long as proper shelter, money, and a job don't make him happy.
anyway, i made a kitty friend and i'm not letting her get hurt. i figure i'll walk her home as soon as my family's asleep. hopefully she only follows me there and not back. maybe i'll just force my parents to take her back to the park on the way to church tomorrow. i'll remind them that GOD wouldn't let a cat get mauled for no good reason. maybe that will work.