FOXX

Johnny never wanted a cat.

He never really wanted a pet in general, since that was just extra responsibility and according to Drayton, responsibility was something Johnny was allergic to. Fortunately, Johnny didn't listen to Drayton much, so his opinion didn't really matter all that much. If at all.

And yet, there she was again. The loud, annoying little black and white cat that. Johnny heard some of the local kids give her a name, but he never bothered to learn it. He never really even planned to acknowledge the cat in the first place. It was just one of many stray animals of Newt. A few dogs. Plenty of cats. This one wasn't special. She had plenty of people toss her scraps.

Johnny himself just ignored her and all the other strays. He never went out of his way to feed or pet any animals, but he wasn't the type to kick a cat, either. It wasn't even about liking animals, it just… seemed pointless to him to kick them. Cartoonishly evil. And as sadistic and twisted as he was, Johnny took himself rather seriously. He was not some cartoon villain.

The fur ball, however, did not take Johnny seriously at all. If anything, she almost seemed to mock him at one point, with how stupidly cuddly she was. He had no idea how the damn cat kept finding him, but apparently, she did.

It started in his mother's garden. Johnny had absolutely no idea how the cat got there, Nancy lived so far from the center of Newt, she might as well live out of town. And yet, while replacing the fence around the property on his mother's request (it was one of those good days where they actually got along pretty well), Johnny heard a loud, almost entitled meow. If a meow could be entitled.

He looked around, confused. His mother had no pets. It was one of her strict rules, that no cat or dog was to ever go inside her house unless it was an absolute must. Because a pet meant not just dirty paws that they'd have to wipe every time they came back home (and Nancy could barely get Johnny to take off those goddamn boots of his sometimes), but also fur. Everywhere.

The closest she ever got to getting Johnny a pet was offering him a goldfish when he was eight, but he decided it was too boring to bother. So they both left it at that, neither really revisiting the subject.

But by some miracle, the cat was there! Sitting on the stairs to the porch, staring right up at him with those large, green eyes. Johnny wasn't sure if cats could be smug, but this cat certainly was, with her tail slowly swaying side to side.

For a few long, awkward seconds, they just stared at each other, not moving except for the swaying tail and occasional blinking from them both. Johnny stared at the cat, and the cat stared at Johnny. They were just missing one of those tumbleweeds rolling between them and it would look like a scene from some low budget western movie. Johnny remembered liking those as a kid. He wanted to be a cowboy for a solid year or two.

Apparently, this smug little cat was the nemesis he had his high noon duel with, considering it was noon. More or less. Johnny never bothered wearing a watch, so he couldn't say for certain, but he went to town for the supplies around eleven, so the the time it took to drive there, buy what he needed, drive back and bring everything outside… yeah, it could be an hour. So this could very well be a staring duel between him and the rival outlaw at high noon. Which was absolutely stupid, but surprisingly, it was not the weirdest thing Johnny's said or thought.

After a while, he awkwardly tried to wave his hand to chase the cat away. No reaction. Goddamn it.

Johnny put the hammer he was holding back in the toolbox before slowly approaching the cat. And for a man built for hunting and chasing, he moved surprisingly stiffly back then, not quite sure how to approach the animal without having it scratch him (which would be the less drastic outcome) or jumping into the house because it got startled and used the open window as its closest escape route (which would be the worst possible outcome, as it would piss off Nancy and Johnny really didn't want to deal with his mother being pissy that day).

"Hey there…" He spoke, trying not to spook the creature. Fortunately (or not), the animal stayed perfectly still, not even moving her tail anymore, letting it rest on the step she was sitting on. "You wanna piss off so we both don't get yelled at?"

It took a second, but Johnny soon realized just how stupid it was to try and talk to a stray cat like it could understand him. So instead, when he (obviously) got no response, he decided his next best move would be to try and pick the cat up and just… get it off the property. He had some vague memory of one of the mothers in town scolding her kid for trying to pick up their adult dog by the scruff, but he couldn't remember if it would be bad for cats, too.

He settled on trying to pick it up normally, one hand under the front legs and the other under the behind. Except the moment he tried that, the cat quickly jumped off the steps and moved to sit next to his toolbox instead. Johnny clicked his tongue, grimacing in irritation. Of course the fur ball was going to just get away moments before he grabbed it. And of course she would stare at him, as if daring him to try again.

He did, in fact, try again. Internally insisting it was to avoid dealing with Nancy's potential bitching and absolutely not about his ego. He could catch a cat. It was not difficult to catch a cat. He tracked and killed people all the time, a cat was nothing compared to that. It was just a dumb animal that he could catch, pick up and carry off the- oh, god fucking damn it, it got away again.

"… Asshole." He grumbled, and the cat meowed in response. "You're mockin' me? Seriously?"

As if he wasn't trying to spare them both a whooping. Well, to be fair, Nancy probably couldn't whoop Johnny much anymore, but… well, they both had scars from each other. And again, they were having a pretty decent day so far, with no bitching or arguing. And since he was in no mood for attempted matricide that day, he decided to try to catch the cat again. And it escaped. Again. With that smug little look on its face.

It took a few more attempts before Johnny got frustrated. He let out a loud groan, sitting down on the porch steps. The spot that was originally occupied by the cat. How ironic.

Apparently, the little beast took it as an invitation of some sort, because after all the chasing around the garden (which included some grumbled curses on his part), she decided now was the time to get all up in his personal space. The little thing purred about as loud as the engine on Johnny's truck as she rubbed her head, and later her side, against his leg.

"Oh, now you're gettin' all close an' personal, huh?" He scoffed, but gave into the natural urge to pet the fluffy creature next to him and awkwardly gave it a scratch behind the ear with his gloves still on. He doubted it was very satisfying through the thick material, but hey, the cat wasn't complaining. Yet. And if it was, those complaints would probably be loud enough to alert Nancy. So far, though, her cheesy ballads on the radio and the water running from the sink as she washed the dishes.

After a while, the cat decided that his lap was its next chosen spot. Johnny knew he'd end up with fur and dirt all over his pants and shirt, but honestly, for some reason, it didn't bother him as much. And while it could be that he was just used to having his clothes covered with dirt already (and blood, can't forget the blood), there was a tiny little spark in him that almost enjoyed the cat's company.

Almost.

"You're still annoying." He grumbled, giving the cat an awkward pat on the head. The cat seemed delighted, managing to purr even louder as it rubbed its smug, content little face all over his stomach. And with a dramatic sigh, Johnny left it. Just this once, he promised to himself.

He never kept that promise, by the way. Because by some miracle, the cat's visits became a routine, to the point where Johnny was starting to question whether or not the cat found some cozy spot on the property that she decided to claim as her own. If there was, the little shit was very good at staying hidden, because neither Johnny nor his mother found the smug little thing unless it wanted them to. To make it clear, that meant Johnny was seeing the cat so often, he was starting to question his own sanity, and Nancy saw the cat… never. As if the little beast knew the woman would chase it away.

And while the cat did occasionally piss him off, Johnny has learned to just live with the cat as it followed him around like a particularly entitled baby duck. One that would meow so loud it sounded like screaming whenever it wasn't given enough attention. And affection. The furry fiend was constantly starved for affection. Even when Johnny was busy with maintenance work around the property.

As the weeks passed, the cat was fully at home by Johnny's side. Gardening, fixing anything, skinning the animals he hunted (mostly deer, when it wasn't people), whatever he was doing, the cat was there, either sitting down and staring at him or rubbing against him whenever it was least convenient.

Even now, when he decided to get some sleep on the ruined couch in his shack behind Nancy's house after a whole day of physical labor around the property, the cat was there. Curled up on his stomach like they were best friends. And subconsciously, Johnny put his hand on the cat's back protectively while they slept. It was an odd sight, but a cute one. So cute, in fact, that it even managed to warm up Black Nancy's dark little heart as she put an old, thin blanket over Johnny's shirtless body, low enough for just the cat's head to stick out.

"Just don't expect me to waste any good blankets on you." Nancy grumbled, huffing at the cat before leaving her son and his furry friend alone for their nap together. As long as no fur got inside her house, perhaps she could get used to the creature. Oh, maybe it would get Johnny to finally start thinking about giving her grandbabies! God, she wished.

For now, though, she was going to have to make do with a grandchild that meowed.

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cat tax, as promised.

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