Ted, the Piss Cat.

She has a lot of names. So many, in fact, that she doesn't even recognize them as anything meaningful. Just sounds humans make. She called herself Ted, after her first (and only) owner a few years ago. She missed Ted.

She's a long haired cat, sitting in the bushes beside a brick house as the dawn creeps in. She wheezes as she breathes and her left eye is leaking a sort of gel. She's old, and she smells like piss. We'll get to that in a little bit though.

Right now, she's hungry. Usually, she steals whatever she can find in the garbage, but the Orange Cat (some of the humans call him "That Orange Fucker"), was following her around, and she didn't feel like getting clawed to shit just yet.

Her body ached.

She gazed at the porch of the brick house. Sometimes, the Girl Human would put food out for her, and sometimes, Ted would be fast enough to get it before Orange or any of the others did. Sometimes, she didn't even have to fight for it. There was no food there this morning.

She sighed.

Behind her, a twig snapped. She jumped up and ran up to the porch and looked around. She didn't see anything, but that didn't mean much. She couldn't see that well as it was and most of the strays around here had gotten fairly good at being seen only when they wanted to. She listened.

"Hello?" she called.

Around the corner of the house, she heard a step.

"Hello?"

"Ted." It was the young cat. She couldn't ever remember his name. The brick house Humans had given it to him, but it was weird and long. Started with an 'S', she thought.

"What do you want?" She asked.

"You know what."

"Leave me alone. I just want food."

"This is my house," the Young Cat said. He came around the corner. He was smaller than most of the strays, but not scrawny. He was grey and white, and a dick.

"No." Ted backed up against the railing, and felt a wave of nervousness pour over her. Some days were better than others, and maybe today, this would be her only confrontation. Maybe today would be a good day. She hoped. "That isn't right. You don't own these humans. They feed me sometimes."

The Young Cat came around the porch and stopped at the bottom step, glaring up at Ted.

"They don't feed you bitch. They just put food out for any of us. First come, first serve. You think they give a shit about an old dying piss-cat?"

Ted backed further up against the door of the house, her hair standing on end. "Leave me alone," she hissed.

"Get off my porch." He took a slow step toward Ted. Ted cowered, and hissed again.

"Hiss all you want you old bitch, but this is my porch, and this is your last warning. Go."

Ted thought for a moment. She knew she needed to take a stand someday. She knew that this porch was as much hers as anyone else's. She knew she shouldn't let the Young Cat or The Orange Cat bully her, but she was so weak, so old...

She began to try to creep around the Young Cat. He kept his eye on her. "That's right bitch, get off my PORCH!" He dashed toward her, and screeched. Ted jumped into the air as The Young Cats claw tore into her side. She felt it immediately and yelped, losing control over her jump and tumbling down the steps, into the driveway. Without looking back, Ted darted across the street, wounded, and hungry.

She could hear The Young Cat on the porch, clawing at the door, and mewing for the Humans attention. The fucker.

Ted walked into the grass of the Yellow House across the street. They never fed her here, but sometimes they left the top off of their garbage can. She hoped they had.

She turned the corner around the back of their garage, and no, they had left the top on. Her heart sank a little. She was running out of options, and the last one, was not good. She decided to wait a few hours, before she would have to ask for help.

Ted curled up under the wooden porch behind the Yellow House, and decided to try to sleep, hoping no other cats would see her, at least for a little while.

She slept.

When she awoke, the day was bright. The cut on her side burned. She licked it, hoping it would stay clean, and not cause any more problems. Hoped it would heal, and stop hurting before someone else decided to give her another. She hoped for a day of peace.

She couldn't fight it anymore. It was time to ask for help. She didn't want to, and she hated the price, but it was time.

Ted went to go find Lucky.

Lucky was another long haired cat. Brown, and never hungry. The rest of the strays (Young Cat excluded), always hung around him. He kept them fed. Entertained. He lived at the bottom of the hill inside an old doghouse in the woods. Ted hated going there.

She made her way down the hill, following the treeline behind the houses. She tried not to go out by the road as much as possible. Some humans were very mean to strays, especially old strays in her condition. It was better to just avoid being seen sometimes.

After a few minutes she found the path to Lucky's. Worn down by the dog who lived here however long ago, it was a narrow rut leading from the backyard of the old white house here, almost to the river, where, as legend has it, Lucky drowned the dog. Ted had her doubts about the story.

She could already hear the mew's and chuckles of Lucky and his friends. In her head the image of the oncoming night only amplified them. Turned them into nightmares. Ted shuddered. She was so hungry.

She could see the doghouse. A cat moved inside, but she wasn't close enough yet to see which. She mewed to announce herself, and the chuckles stopped. Something about that bothered her more. After a second, Lucky wandered out of the doghouse, and sat down, attentively.

"Ted. How nice of you to drop by," he said. Snickers came from inside the doghouse.

"Hello Lucky." Ted dropped her head, not out of respect, but shame.

Lucky smiled. "Don't do that, beautiful. Look at me."

It was nearly impossible for Ted. Her entire being told her it was better to starve than, this. But, she raised her head. "I'm hungry, Lucky."

"I know you are beautiful. It's a tough world out there. Come closer."

Ted meandered up to him. Her joints aching, her tired old fur standing on end.

Lucky leaned into her. "The usual spot?"

"I don't want to Lucky. Please. Not today."

"Oh, Ted. You must not be very hungry then. You know the price for my help. Don't you?"

"Yes."

"And you come to me, expecting me to waive it?" Lucky asked.

Ted dropped her head again.

"Listen, Ted, I like you. Sure. You are a fine cat. You've had hard times. But so have we all. Every one in that house there has had a hard time. We've all lost humans, and cats alike. We have all starved. We have all fought for scraps. You know how hard it is to find a smile these days. Don't you?"

"Yes, Lucky."

"And you want us to smile, don't you?"

Ted fought back tears. "Yes. Lucky."

"And you are so very hungry, aren't you?"

"Yes Lucky."

"Then I ask you again," he said, "the usual spot?"

"Yes Lucky." She could barely get the words out. Was it worth it, she wondered? Was this, this mark worth the meager bites Lucky would allow her? Was her pride worth surviving into more days of this? Could another human ever love her, smelling as she did? A tear mixed in with the gel in her dying eye, and she decided that, good or bad, she must survive. There had to be just one more good day waiting for her. There had to be.

"Right this way then," Lucky said, and then, as he and Ted began to walk toward the river, "Boys! Ted's here! Let's have a good time!"

From inside the doghouse came laughter and words Ted didn't want to hear. Cats strolled out, and walked beside her, looking her up and down. A lanky black cat said, "Fuck, you are one nasty old cat." Another called her "his territory." "Another yet called her "fresh scent."

Ted was crying.

The reached the edge of theriver, and the cats circled Ted.

"You hungry Ted?" Lucky asked.

Ted nodded.

"Then I'd close your eyes, and earn your meal."

Ted closed her eyes. Without any more warning, the circle of cats began to mark her. The scent was unbearable, and the piss burned her wound. She cried and cried, and soon, the warmth of it all disappeared as the cats all finished up, laughing and joking, calling her names and kicking dirt on her. She laid down in the mud and put her paws over her head and wept.

"There ya go, Fresh Scent!"

"Nasty Bitch!"

"Piss cat! Ted the piss cat!"

"Allright boys," Lucky said. "We've had our fun. Back to the house."

Ted could hear the other cats walking away. Something hit her on the side. She looked up. It was a bird corpse, only a few days old.

"Eat up," Lucky said, and turned to walk back to the house.

Ted looked at the bird, laying alongside her in the mud, and wondered who suffered the worse fate. Who was the lucky one?

Ted ate.