Kitty

There was a knock on my dressing room door.
"Come in." I called out.
Roy, a crew member peeked in his head.
This was a little unusual.
"Hey would you ever consider rooming with someone? Sherri and I get great places to stay and we're looking for a room-mate for Memphis. We found this cool place right off the river. It's a two bedroom. We're going to be gone on vacation for two of the weeks. Let me know what you think?"

I strongly prefer to live alone and rooming with more than one person wasn't on my radar.
Roy and Sherri were cool though, so I thought about it and next time Roy knocked and peeked his head into the room I said, "Yeah, okay."
A week goes by.
knock knock knock.
"Come in!"
Roy's head appears.
"Hey we have a cat. You're not allergic to cats are you?"
"I love cats."
"Cool."
Another week goes by.
knock knock knock
"Come in!"
"Hey ummm Kitty is diabetic, so after the show tonight can you come by and I can show you have to give him his insulin shots?"
"Wait, what?"
"Yeah Kitty is diabetic so if he doesn't get his shots while we're on vacation, he could, I don't know, die? He's cool though. Can you come by tonight?"
Pause.
"Sure?"
I went over there and met Kitty and he was cool.
Super cool.
Roy explains that, yes it does hurt him when you give him his shot but he knows it's good for him.
He calls out, "Come here Kitty."
He comes.
Kitty is black male cat with a deep, loud voice that he uses frequently.
Kitty's meow is almost a growl.
He is very sweet though.
Roy directs me to pet him a few times, talk to him and rub him a bit.
He pulls up the fur with two fingers and a thumb and shows me where to inject him.
I'm scared to do it but I get it done.
Kitty growl meows and we're good.
"Okay so every night at 11pm. Thanks man."
And I think we're going to be alright.
The first night I have to do it by myself though, I'm nervous.
Needles...not fun things exactly.
As I pull the insulin from the bottle into the needle my hands are shaking.
Give it a flick it a few times with my fingers to get the deadly air bubbles out.
Not sure if I'm up for this.
"KITTY COULD DIE."
DAGNABIT.
"Here Kitty."
He comes.
I pet him a bit.
Rub him a little.
Pull his fur up with two fingers and a thumb.
Take a breath.
Press the needle through his fur, out of his fur and into my thumb.
"That can't be good," I say.
"THAT CAN'T BE GOOD," I say again.
Kitty growl meows and I laugh.
He gets his shots for the next two weeks.
And here's the thing.
Kitty was an awesome room-mate.
He talked to me all the time.
Conversations were had.
Loved my time in Memphis.
Loved the theater and the ribs and the jazz.
My favorite reflections though, are of Kitty, and the time we shared.

Roy and Sherri