Sunday, December 27, 2009

POISONED!

DAY 71. Don’t mean to complain. I mean, things were going pretty good with the humans. Then, last week, out of the blue, they tried to kill Smudge and me. Think I’m exaggerating? Let me tell you the story. You ain’t gonna believe this one.

Things were going along just fine for a while. I mean me and the humans seemed to be getting along just fine. Still the mystery of that other cat, and Smudge is still, well, a pain, but I seemed to be making progress on the people front. Sometimes its easier to go along to get along, that is while you scheme and plot your freedom quietly and with a smile. Right?

I’ve had my say about this hard food stuff they were serving me. Truth is, helps keep my teeth sharp and ready for my eventual escape. Dangerous world out there, my friends, filled with Squirrel gangs, hawks that can dive bomb and scoop up an unsuspecting cat. So I could deal with the hard stuff.

Then they started feeding us Friskies in the can. You know the chunks and savory shreds and stuff like that. It is edible. I’ll pass on the so-called pate’ that comes slithering out of the can in one disgusting chunk. Personally, I don’t trust any food shaped like the container it comes in! Now and then we’d get this Fancy feast stuff. Delicious! Things were looking up, and I began to rethink this whole human thing. Kind of nice having your own personal slaves. But then something happened. It was like the slaves were in revolt, opening plotting against Smudge and I, in the most insidious way.

It’s this Friskies Select Indoors crud. I don’t know if they’re dumb or just being cruel. Like I said, been working on my human to gather intel on my slave/captors. On the label it read:

CHUNKY CHICKEN AND TURKEY CASSEROLE WITH BROWN RICE ANDGARDEN GREENS

Are you kidding me? Garden greens? Are they trying to poison me? I’m a cat, for mother earth’s sake! I don’t eat garden greens and brown rice. Do I look like a flea-flickin’ dog? Cats eat birds and mice and fish. Give me meat, meat, MEAT! So I got my eye on the humans. They seemed to get the message. Even Smudge wouldn’t eat the stuff, but then she seems content here. We both began a sympathetic hunger strike and dragged ourselves around the house like we were about to beathe our last. I can still recall their disappointment as they threw out those nasty cans of Select Indoors, which tasted more like Select In-sewers. But that first taste of fancy Feast later that day was worth the fight. Score one for cats!

SICK CALL

Bad enough being a cat sometimes. True enough no one asks a great deal of us. Truth of it is we wouldn’t do what anyone told us to do anyway. Not that we’re dumb or lazy. But ask yourself, and be honest. Folks don’t expect much of us cats, and that’s just the way we like it. Not even that we’re being particularly difficult-that’s just one of the appealing benefits. You see, its pure physics. Cats are simply defending one of the fundamental laws of the universe, and that is a body at rest tends to remain at rest, and I intend to remain at rest as much as possible! And if this week is any indication…

Back when I was in the big house up in Michigan, locked up with all the other stray and unwanted pets I picked up a little chest thing. Heck, more than a little thing. It swept through the cathouse like wildfire. Day in and day out, hacking and sneezing. I’d lay awake at night listening to some poor street cat wheezing and coughing as he fought for breath. Dark days, those. Lost one of those sissy-boy Persians. Hauled him out in a hefty bag.

Caught it myself before long. Worst I’ve ever felt in my life, short as it is. Got so I didn’t want to do nothing. Then the sneezing fits began. I wanted to die, it got so bad. When this pair of humans took me from the slammer, and dropped me here in this, well, half way house I was suffering these bloody sneezes. Each one about tore my chest out. I tell ya, I was ready for the good mother earth to wrap her arms around me and take me back.

They took me to some old guy in a long gray coat. He poked and twisted and explored me like I was a bad piece of meat at a Bombay deli. When that long needle came out I thought I was a goner for sure. I’d heard the stories back in the big house. I heard what humans do with cats they don’t want no more, and I thought, “Fine thing, they take me away from the only real family I ever know-ed-twice-and this is how it all ends.”

If anyone ever says dying don’t hurt, I can tell you, as a cat who come back, it’s a pain in the #$@! No seriously, that where Mister Labcoat stuck me, right in my hairy hind end! Not much I could do by then but wait, count my last breaths. Watch my life pass before my eyes; Mamma, my 7 siblings, how I cried when they were all taken one by one, playing on the beach, rolling in the grass, breathing fresh Michigan air. Such a short life I asked for reruns!

But then I got better. Took a few days, to be sure. The humans forced this pink disgusting medicine stuff down my throat with an eye dropper. Pretty soon I was back to my old self again. Until last week, until the sickness came back again. The humans didn’t miss a beat. Couple of sneezes and I was about begging for that pink stuff. Not that I let on, mind you. I put up a bit of a fight each time they stuck that dropper in my mouth, for appearances of course. After all, I’m a cat and humans have to know their place, right?

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Oh,Hallelujah! The Cat Toy Tree!

"May have to rethink this whole human thing," I thought, standing before the Cat Toy tree. My tail wagged excitedly. My little heart beat wildly. Where to start? Oh, where to start?

It is like some sort of shrine or great sculpture they have erected just for me! Is this what they do. Do people live in some sort of topsy-turvy, upside down world in which they worship cats? When I cry they feed me, or scratch my belly. Doesn't seem like they can get to sleep unless I have been placed at the foot of the bed in the warmest most confortable spot available. Five a.m. every morning the male human flies out of bed to make sure I get breakfast.

Listen, I know I whined a bit about cold hard food at first, but maybe I had this thing all wrong. The food ain't so bad, I suppose. I lick my butt now and then, and I got to be honest the food is a good deal tastier.

But the tree, the tree takes all. It is filled with gold and silver and red shiny balls, fat white snowmen and bears, lace, tinsel and deliciously enticing strings of little tiny lights. At the top they placed a big lighted star. Might as well have put up a sign that says, "Climb up here and get me!"

I think the best part was how the humans celebrated while decorating my tree. They laughed and toasted with those odd and nasty liquids that come from suspiciously dark bottles. Seems to mke them sillier after a few glasses.

I turn to Smudge, half dozing on the window sill and exclaim, "Can you believe this? They made this tree just for me, some sort of welcome or worship thing, I suppose. Don't worry, Smudge, my love, my belle, I'll share...a bit. let me ask, did they make you a tree when you first arrived? Huh?"

Smudge shook her head and turned back to the window and the warm streaming sunlight, and replied, "Dork."

Friday, December 11, 2009

SNOW!!!

I watched it come right out of the sky, a white little speck silhouetted against a blustery night sky. It drifted lazy, tugged this way, then that way. A little eddy whipped it up and back before continuing earthward. I blinked once and lifted my nose towards tht strangle white speck. My tail beat wildly in anticipation.

At the last instant it slipped past my nose and fell cold and wet into my left eye. Cold and wet, who would have thunk it? No pain, and if I could I would have laughed out loud. Darn the luck that I can't even smile. Instead, in excited wonder I ran around in a circle and leapt into the air.

Suddenly the sky was filled with snowflakes, fat wet cold white snowflakes. Oh, those glorious little things! There must have been a million of 'em. Rolling onto my back I stretched out my paws as they fell upon my furry little belly.

Later, watching from the window I marvelled as the snow piled up on the grass outside. So beautiful and magical and I wondered if it had been created just for me. Is there a creator, some great and wise cat-like diety in the sky blanketing the world in that wet and white magic? Sadly it isn't a question I can easily answer. Cats don't have religion yet. That won't come for another million years when we take over and enslave mice to build our scratch-post empire.

Monday, December 7, 2009

TOUGH BREAK, CAT!

“Cold, day,” I said.

Though I’d been blessed with a thick coat I never realized it could be this frigid. Still I was shivering a bit and I could feel the sting in my big ears and little black nose. I looked over casually, more of a glance than anything. I didn’t want to seem too obvious. The old squirrel seemed unaffected. His pals were playing across the yard, chasing one another across patios, over empty flower pots and through the trees.

“First winter, kid?” he said in his usual gruff street manor. True what mom would say as the eight of us suckled. Those days seemed so long ago. Truth of it was, it was barely four months since my tiny eyes first opened to mom’s beautiful face. Sometimes I can still smell the warm perfume of her thick fur. She would tell us that house pets shouldn’t mingle with outside animals. They live very different lives from us house folks, a tougher far more dangerous life. The fat squirrel beside me seemed a decent enough bloke, but I knew better than to get too involved with his lot. Still, there was something about this guy I found oddly appealing. Of course, if I put too much trust in yard critters the way I was falling for Smudge, I was in for trouble!

“When does it get warm again?” I asked.

“Ha! That’s cute. What, are you like two, three months…”

“Four and a half,” I corrected him quickly. “Four and one half whole months old. Heck, I’m closer to five, actually.”

“Good for you, Kid. This is my second inter.”

“Really?” I said, matter of fact, not wanting to sound like a sucker.

“Might not seem like much to you,” he mocked a bit, “with all your vast experience, but given the average lifespan for a squirrel is like two months I’m an old timer many times over. Ticker is still good. I don't run out in front of cars, I fatten up at the first sniff of cold weather and I have ample reserves buried all over this yard.”

“Happy for you,” I said, half wanting to chase him across the yard. Figured it would get me in trouble, besides, it was good to talk with someone, even if it was a tree tough like this lout.

“I like you, cat,” he said. He hopped onto the grass a few inches away and dug at the frozen earth. A moment later he pulled out a seed or dried berry or something. He promptly stuffed it in his cheek, then pulled another from the hole. He nearly pushed it into the other cheek, paused and held it out to me. “Where’s my manners? Hungry?”

“Carnivore, pal.” I replied. “Appreciate the offer, though.”

“More for me,” he said pressing it into his cheek. “High metabolism, and a body’s gotta eat. Like I was saying, mook, I like you. That’s why I hate to see you get all torn up over a dame.”

"Dame? No dame's gonna tie this cat down!" I asserted feebly.

"Got it bad, don't ya, kid?" scoffed the squirrel.

I glared at him and was about to shoot back something clever and sarcastic. Instead I only sighed and lowered my head, resting my chin on the cold hard ground.

"Bad? Yeah I suppose I do."

The squirrel hopped away, then turned and shook his head sympathetically. "Tough break, cat."

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Hey, Doll

The sunlight was warm through the window. Was a lamentable light, as tired and distant as I felt. Smudge was up on the shelf beside the Lavender Plant, lightly napping. Her tail drifted lazily back and forth. Her face was reflected in the window, those big golden leopard-like eyes struggling to remain open.


I didn't want to be alone. No intention of starting trouble, just sometimes a cat needs another cat to cuddle with. Never mind that that other cat might be a she-devil incarnate. Maybe that was a bit too much, but the tension in the house since I'd arrived had all but exhausted me.


"Hey, doll," I said, matter of fact, leaping up onto the shelf beside her. "This spot taken?"


"Depends on who's taking it?" It was a feeble reply, as if she was growing tired of all this too. Still, I wasn't about to read too much into things, nor was a in the mood for a fight.


"In the meantime, how about I keep it warm, huh?"


"Suit yourself," she said, without looking at me. Her eyes were still closed.


"Could have cut the tension with a knife. Was more than I could take. I hd to get a few things off my furry brown and yellow chest. My tail chopped unconsciously at the air, an indication of just how much she set me off.


"Something I have to say..."


Smudge snapped her head around. Her eyes narrowed at me. I could see the tightness in her whiskers, the agitated beat of her tail. The hair on her back rose just a little.


"Listen," she said, "it's quiet and comfortable here. I can barely tolerate you right now. Consider that progress, just don't push things. In an hour, if we're still here and one of us hasn't been killed then that's a good thing."

With that Smudge turned away and let her eyes close slowly. I laid my head down on the shlf and side heavily, and thought to myself, "love is hell."