The cat is broken again.
Lying quietly on his back, legs splayed, belly floof exposed.
Only the tail hints at life, twitching slowly.

I will not, I say. I will not.
But I do.

One finger placed gently in the middle of his belly.
An eye opens.
Two fingers now, gently rubbing.
The other eye opens.
Three fingers now, moving in a slow circle.
Front legs wrapped around my arm back legs disemboweling the enemy teeth gently biting my wrist.

The cat is fixed.