He spent the night in a drainage pipe. A fluffing drainage pipe.

It was a horrible night — a cold, terrible, lonely night. Mooky didn't sleep. How could he? He was used to curling up in his cozy cat bed in the living room of his home, by the heater. Not being outside, sleeping outside — which was made all the worse by the periodic roars of the cars whipping by on the highway. Every time one passed overhead, Mooky's fur bushed out, and he had to stop himself from yowling in alarm.

By the time the sun appeared on the horizon, bathing the highway in a buttery, warm sunlight, Mooky's nerves were shot. His fur still stood on end, puffing him out to twice his original size, and his eyes were bloodshot, his claws still curled out of their housing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like such a wreck — perhaps the last time his owners had decided to give him a bath. Now that had been an unpleasant experience.

But not as unpleasant as being forgotten on the side of the road and having to sleep in a drainage pipe for the night.

Yes, forgotten. He'd been forgotten, not abandoned. "Abandonment" implied that his owners had simply dropped him in the middle of nowhere with no intention of coming back. And of course that couldn't be. His owners loved him. He'd been with them for as long as he could remember, and he knew that they weren't cruel enough to just leave him here.

No, they'd most certainly just forgotten that they'd dropped him off there. They'd come back. He was sure of it.

Mooky shook out his fur, trying to rid himself from as much of the damp from the drainage pipe as he could. He slowly made his way back up to the top of the highway, where he was sure that he was clearly visible, and waited for his owners to come back, trying not to flinch at every car that blasted past.

***

Noon came. And went.

Nobody pulled up to the side of the road, blue van or otherwise, to pick him up. None of the cars whizzing by seemed to give him a spare glance. Mooky began to worry as the sun slowly began to dip down in the sky.

What... What did this mean?

Had he been wrong? Had he not been forgotten... Had he truly been abandoned?

No...that couldn't be!

But as another hour passed, and as Mooky still found himself crouched on the side of the highway, it became harder and harder to deny.

But why? He didn't understand. He fancied himself a good cat: he didn't tear up the furniture or relieve himself on the floor. He came when called and always appreciated a good scratching. Why had his owners suddenly just left him like this? Why? Why? Why—

A red sports car jetted through that stupid puddle of water again, drenching Mooky from head to paw as it passed. Mooky hacked up water and groaned to himself.

Mousetails! What did I do to deserve this?

***

After another half hour, Mooky made up his mind.

"Fine!" he yowled at the highway, hoping that somehow, someway, his owners could hear him. "Have it your way! You don't want me, and I don't want you! I never liked the cat food you gave me anyway!" He kicked up some dirt onto the highway to add insult to injury and, after randomly choosing a direction, walked off.

Hmph! If his owners expected him to just sit there and mewl like a newborn kit (of which he'd done plenty last night), then they had another thought coming! He was perfectly fine with being on his own! Honest!

Tail held high, Mooky decided to follow the highway, see where it led him. Though the thought of venturing into a strange, new territory scared him, he forced himself to hold head and tail high. He was not going to contradict himself; he was no kit. He was a tom, and he was going to act like it. You'll see!

A long hour passed as Mooky picked his way along the highway, trying not to flinch as the cars zipped by. There was nothing much on this side of the road: woods, mostly, and pockets of scrub covered in pine needles. He thought about moving down the slope and into the forest, but stopped himself. He didn't know what kind of scary creatures lived in between those trees, and didn't really want to find out.

In time, a side road appeared, branching off the highway and cutting down into the trees. Mooky quickened his pace, trotting up to the road, and glanced into where it led: more trees, but houses too, big, stocky homes settled within comfortably within the pines. A white sign sat in front of Mooky, nearly overtaken by a huge cluster of bushes; he couldn't read it, of course, but he knew what it meant:

A neighborhood! He'd reached a neighborhood!

An idea formed in his mind as he came to this realization: if his stupid owners didn't want him anymore, then maybe he could find a new one in this new neighborhood!

Mooky you genius! He smiled proudly to himself and trotted into the road, heading into the neighborhood. Maybe this crazy situation had silver lining. Maybe he could find some new owners that would appreciate a good cat like him — a cat that they wouldn't just randomly abandon at the drop of a hat.

Hoooooooonnnkk!

An explosion of sound blasted the air behind him; Mooky whirled around to see an enormous red truck thundering towards him.

Yowling in alarm, he dove into a nearby yard, not stopping until he'd safely hidden himself inside a bush. Gasping, heart pounding erratically, he watched as the truck growled down the neighborhood's main thoroughfare, further into the woods; when it was gone, he slowly made his way out of the bush. That's the last time I sit in the middle of a road and silently congratulate myself!

Mooky padded through the grass and out to the edge of the street, reorienting himself. He'd bolted into a yard situated on the corner of a side-street. He craned his neck and saw that the road curved inward before looping about in a cul-de-sac, surrounded by houses on all sides. He padded along the edge of the road, curious and was surprised to find that he could still hear sounds from the highway, even this far in the neighborhood; this cul-de-sac must've not been very far from it.

A blur of motion whipped by him, catching his attention. It moved so fast that he couldn't see what it was until it stopped in the next yard over, crouching on the driveway beside the tire of a white truck. It was a cat! Or a kitten, more like: the feline was decidedly smaller than Mooky, still stuck in that awkward juvenile stage. He had light brown fur, dotted with darker streaks and specks like a leopard, and a decidedly bushy tail that made the kitten look like some sort of overgrown squirrel.

Or was his tail really even that size? Maybe the kitten was scared? Had something spooked him?

"WOOOOOF!" A sharp bark cracked behind Mooky, making him leap nearly a foot in the air. What the—?

He turned and, to his horror, saw a mouthful of teeth and splayed claws gunning towards him.

"MEEEEOOOOWWW!" Mooky screamed as he raced forward. A dog! There was a dog loose in the streets! And it was coming after him!

Mooky spotted the kitten bolt underneath the white truck and dive into the bowled yard beyond, and he found himself following, the dog's barks splintering the air behind him. He tore after the kitten as the little brown cat conquered the yard and raced across the street into the lawn opposite. He leapt onto the nose of another truck and paused, glancing over his shoulder as Mooky and dog barreled after him.

"Up here!" the Kitten meowed before leaping up into a nearby tree.

Mooky followed him, clawing madly onto the hood of the truck. The dog barked, right behind him, and Mooky turned to see the mutt snapping its teeth up at him, trying to catch his thrashing black tail between its fangs. Mooky screeched in alarm and batted at the dog's nose with splayed claws. The dog yelped, jerking backward, and Mooky launched himself into the tree, clambering onto a thick, sturdy branch beside the Kitten.

The dog sat on the driveway below them, pacing restlessly and barking in frustration up at the two cats. Mooky gasped, his limbs wobbling in fright.

"That...was...close," he choked out, hardly breathing. Dropped onto the side of the road, nearly run over by cars, and almost mauled by dogs... With the way his luck was going, it was safe to predict that he wouldn't last the week.

"Yeah, stupid mutt," the Kitten said, his green eyes narrowed down at the dog as it continued to bark up at them. "It almost got me the other day."

"The other day?" Mooky repeated, treating the Kitten to an incredulous glance. "Are you saying it's broken out before?"

"Yeah, a lot this month," the Kitten replied. "Dumb thing doesn't know how to stay in its yard."

As the dog continued to bark at them, the door of a nearby house opened, and a middle-aged woman wearing an apron stepped out, carrying a small, metal container. She spotted the dog barking up at the tree in her yard and scowled before cupping her hands.

"Kenny!" she shouted. "KENNY!"

Next door, the door opened, and a ragged head poked out, scratching sleep out of his eyes. "What?" the boy snapped.

"Get out here and get this mangy mutt of yours!" the woman snapped. "It's escaped again!"

A moment later, the boy marched up to the tree and snatched the dog up by its collar. The mongrel yelped as it was dragged backwards to Kenny's fence. The boy opened the gate and shoved the dog inside before throwing down the bar and stomping back to his house.

"Kenny!" the woman shouted. "The next time that mutt escapes and goes barking up my trees, I'm calling the dog catcher! Got it?"

"Whatever!" Kenny said before slamming his door shut.

"Why I never!" the woman hissed angrily. She bent down towards a couple of bowls sitting at the edge of her porch and popped open that metal container she was holding, dumping the contents into them before retreating back inside the house.

At the sight, the Kitten licked his lips and dropped from the tree back down onto the hood of the truck.

"What are you doing?" Mooky demanded. "What if that dog comes back?"

"Relax, old man," the Kitten said as he dismounted onto the driveway. "That fluffing dog is back in his yard. It's okay to come down now."

Mooky followed the Kitten down the tree. "How dare you?" he said as he trotted behind the Kitten, towards the porch. "I am not old. And that is definitely not my name. I'm Mooky."

"Nice ta meet ya, Mooky," the Kitten said as he hopped up onto the porch; Mooky followed. "I haven't seen you before. Are you new around here?"

"Yes, I..." A sudden aroma made Mooky trail off. He stepped forward, following the delicious, meaty scent, and it led him straight to the bowl, the one the woman had been pouring something into earlier. It was...cat food!

Mooky's stomach growled — he hadn't eaten since...since yesterday morning, before he'd been abandoned. He wasn't used to going so long without a scrap of food.

"Oh my," Mooky purred as he continued inhaling the scent. "That smells heavenly..."

"Thanks!" the Kitten said. "It's Meow Mix. Chicken flavor. She sometimes gives us beef, too." The Kitten took a bite of the deliciously scented cat food before saying, with a full mouth, "So, Mooky. Didn't answer ma question. Ya new around here?"

"What's that?" Mooky murmured, still intoxicated by the smell of the food. It was only good manners that had prevented him from taking a bite without the Kitten's permission. But if he didn't get a mouthful soon...

"He asked you if you're new around here."

The new, cold voice snapped Mooky out of his food-crazed daze. He crouched and bushed out, glancing up. A cat was lying on the porch swing, a dark brown tom with even darker accents that looked similar to the Kitten's patterns. At first, Mooky thought that the cat only had one ear — the other appeared to be a shriveled nub. But upon closer inspection, he saw that it was simply torn slightly, diminishing it in size.

Mooky backed up slowly — this cat was giving off hostile vibes. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"That's Dad!" the Kitten said, his mouth still full of food.

"I am One-ear," the cat said before shifting to his paws and dropping down from the porch swing. "And you have invaded my territory, stranger."

"What?" Mooky asked, bewildered, as he stepped backwards. He reached the edge of the porch and was forced to stop. Territory...? Oh. He must've meant this house. This yard. Oops.

"Um, I'm sorry, One-ear," Mooky said as the cat stalked closer — behind him, Kitten stuffed his face with food, oblivious. "I didn't mean to trespass on your territory. I was just, um, speaking to your son, and..."

"And hoping to steal some of our food?" One-ear spat.

Mooky looked down at his paws. "I-I'm sorry," he said. "I just...I was abandoned, and I haven't eaten anything since yesterday, and I was wondering—"

"There's only enough food for me and my son," One-ear said. "No one else. Now be gone, before I give you a scratching you won't soon forget."

"But—" Mooky began.

"I said be gone!" One-ear cuffed him over the side of the head.

With a meow of pain, Mooky tumbled over the side of the porch and landed on his back in the grass. Fearing pursuit, he fled into the next yard, ducking under a tan-colored sedan and twisting around to make sure that One-ear wasn't following.

He wasn't — the cat had turned, returning to his seat on the porch's swing. Kitten was still eating.

What a touchy cat! Mooky growled to himself.