My early days of life as a kitten are hard to remember. Though I think at one point in time, I was surrounded by what must have been brothers and sisters. They were all different colors than me, some similar, but we all had our own patterns and mix of coloring. My own colors consisted of jet black, and a creamy white color. Everything except my stomach, chin and paws were that same ebony color. The rest an ivory shade. Even my nose was black, and my eyes green. My brothers and sisters were different colors, as was my wonderful mother. But…I can’t remember what those colors were, only that they were different than my own.
I didn’t have a name until he came and looked down at me. Our eyes locking for what seemed like years, though it was really mere moments. Those dark brown eyes connected with mine, and I probably let out the most pitiful meow that a cat has ever let out. But all the same, the boy reached down and picked me up. I wasn’t the biggest cat, but he still chose me. Those thing innocent arms, hold me to his chest. I was still meowing pitifully, and trying not to fall out of the loose grip.
“Sweetie no.” said a woman, a Russian accent ringing deep in her voice, the same as the language that rung from her lips. “Hold the cat like this.” she said, as she picked the cat up from his arms.
I had no idea what was going on, and just started to nip softly at the hand that held me, it was more comfortable than the boy…but it just wasn’t the same as being held by that little bit. I turned my head and gave another soft meow, glancing to the woman that was walking over.
I recognized her only because she was the woman that had been feeding me since I was old enough to not drink the milk from my mother. I may have loved that woman back then, but I can’t remember anymore.
There was a brief moment as I glanced back at my mother lying there, and was placed down on the ground. I ran back over to her, my claws sticking into the bedding that she lay on.
“Mommy…I don’t understand what’s going on.” I whispered, as I nuzzled my head into the warm fur around her neck.
The woman who had been my feeder seemed to laugh about this, and just mumbled something about the cats yowling a lot that day. I didn’t know why then, but I was afraid. Afraid that I would be taken away from my mother, and my brothers and sisters.
My fears weren’t too far off…they were actually spot on. And in moments, I found myself placed into a cardboard box with holes in it. I could only fear for the worst…but I didn’t even know what the worst was. It was horrifying, and the next thing I knew the box was moving…at such a fast speed. And there were voices as well.
“Mommy, can I take him out of the box?” asked a small voice, the voice of a child. “Oh…Dimitri…I don’t know, he might be scared. What if he rips up the car seats?” she asked, her voice sounding more beautiful in the original Russian, which was what he voice was meant to be spoken in.
“Mommy…you have to start speaking English like me, otherwise nobody else is going to understand you.” He started, frowning. Giving the back of her seat a light kick.
“O-Oh…sorry, Dimitri.” She said, as she glanced back at him. “You can take the cat out of the box.” She said, as she smiled, unable to say no to her baby boy.
Dimitri let out one of those childish laughs, which still held some angel like qualities. The next thing I knew, I was pulled out of the cardboard prison, and in the boy’s warm lap.
“Kitty…you get to meet daddy soon.” He said, as he hugged me close. I let out another small meow, and squirmed, before relaxing into the small boy’s arms.
*-*-*-*

I did meet his father, and that first year was quite interesting. I got to know the family. That’s also how I got my name. It had something to do with that father. Apparently he collected coins, and his most cherished was a very rare nickel. This was probably why Dimitri had named me Nickel, trying to give his father a reason to stay.

I could remember the good times, and how much love Dimitri showed me. Though there were times that he forgot to feed me, and I found myself waiting for his mother to check my food bowl. And attempting to drink out of the toilet was not fun…there was always the odd chance that I might fall in. And it had happened once, not a fun time at all.

There seemed to see some problems for poor Dimitri, his father left…I don’t know where he went, but he didn’t come back. And the word divorce was thrown around a lot; I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant.

I also got the chance to watch him grow up, from a younger boy into an adult. His round childish face became leaner and longer. His long black hair was cut shorter, to frame his face, rather than fall into it. He also got taller, that was interesting. It was harder to see his face when I stood on the floor now. But he would pick me up, and hug me…even if I did bite him sometimes. I just got scared was all, I’d never want to hurt Dimitri.

Nowadays I was completely content, just lying on the couch with Dimitri. I had grown as well, my feline body sleeker than it had been when I was a chubby kitten. He reached down and pat me on the head, while he lay lazily on the couch.

“I don’t want to do my homework Nikky…” he muttered, that nickname sounding familiar to me now. I meowed softly, and nuzzled my head against his warm hand, giving a soft purr.

He laughed, and stroked my fur as he grinned. I jumped onto his chest, and stared down at him, feline eyes staring directly into his.

“Oh…so you want a treat?” he asked, as he stared up into my eyes. We seemed to have a close bond, almost telepathic. He could always tell what I needed, if we just locked eyes. I jumped down to the ground, and meowed happily. That boy just knew me too well.