So a couple a months passed and I resigned myself to the fact the Silver will forever be known as Billi. Not that I gave up easily. I still used to call her Silver and pretended that she responded to it, when at most I would get a twitch of the tip of the tail out of her as an acknowledgement of my existence in her world.
So life with Billi, I mean Silver, was great. Everyday I would come home from office and find her running towards me like a puppy and purring for roughly 8 seconds while I gave her some petting before she ran away as if I would infect her with some human-ness. She would run after balls and fetch them, play with laces, continue pooping in the bathroom and peeing anywhere but in the litterbox. With heavy heart I packed up the litter and stored it away.
And then there were other not so great memories like finding two eyes on the bathroom floor in middle of a shower. Or discovering that all my clothes were 99% cotton and 1% cat hair. Or waking up and walking in to the bathroom and discovering a steaming pile of cat poop on the floor. And then the second crisis reared its ugly head. It changed everything and things between Billi and I were never the same again.
I still remember that day just like yesterday, if yesterday happened two years ago. Usually it was my flatmate who gave Billi a shower. This weekend he had to go to work. So I decided that I would wash the cat. How hard could it be?
Of course it wasn’t hard. Giving Billi a bath was pretty easy. She wasn’t the one to go all ninja on you and claw your hands. She just tried to run around the bathroom and climb over stuff. It was all cute and funny till I flipped Billi on her back to wash her belly. And then it happened. I jumped back against the wall, the shower head writhing on the floor like an angry rattlesnake, and Billi ran to the door and trying to escape. I saw something unexpected. Something I had never dreamt of seeing. Something red poked out from her nether regions, something that wasn’t supposed to be. My whole world turned upside down. And Billi’s too. She was no longer a she.
Billi would never be a mother. Billi would never experience the joy of motherhood. All her dreams were shattered brutally by a shower. Billi was a he. He was Billi. Billi was a Billa. My head struggled to grasp this earth shattering discovery. All the little happy furballs I had imagined popping out of her belly went pop pop pop as I found two furry balls tucked away beneath his tail.
I managed to gather myself together and finish giving Billi the bath. Then I stepped out and sent PB an email telling him everything.
Subject: Breaking News
Text: Silver is a male.
He called back immediately and I told him about the horrific turn of events. He was equally shocked and pained by this sorcery. But with time we have learnt to accept Billi and his sexuality. Though his orientation is still under question. This wasn’t the last twist in life with Billi. There are plenty more coming your way.