They’re coming over on Saturday, and I never know until they arrive which cat Auntie (my human aunt and my mother’s friend) is bringing with her. Actually, Auntie has only one cat—a tabby, that Mom calls “Sweet Snookie,” but sometimes Snook is anything but sweet.
Lots of times I’d poo on her face, if I could sit on her and get it out at the same time. Oh, there’s also the detail of catching her first. When acting real hateful, Snook checks the area for escape routes before she throws a final zinger at me.
We first met before I got adopted. She was staying with Mom and Dad while Auntie traveled. Poking around on the porch, I saw her on the other side of the screen door. I called her Gorgeous, and told her my name was Phantom. A month later, when Auntie and Snook came over, she learned I got adopted. She was all ticked cuz I was inside the house, and it was my house now.
She was hissing big strange words at me until she learned Mom named me KittyCat. Then Snook jiggled so hard with laughter, she puked.
When recovered, she followed me to under the dining room table and pretended to introduce me to someone. “May I introduce KittyCat,” Snobby Snook said all uppity, “so named to help identify this matted lump of mottled fur as feline, and not an invading alien.” She said more ugly stuff about me and then bragged about how she was pedigreed. “We tabbies are chosen to model in hundreds of advertisements. Of course I’m too dignified to prance before cameras. Gracious! The mere thought of hawking self-cleaning cat toilets in exchange for a few kibbles makes me shudder.”
Listening to her hoity-toity act, I almost puked.
Miss Queenie kept on yakking. “KittyCat, on the other paw, would trade his soul for a meal, if he couldn’t steal it first. In fact, he--”
She was still at it when Mom let me out. I didn’t know what a “disreputable boot-licking free-loader” was, but Snook was pushing my buttons, so I went to the door.
Saturday, if Miss Hateful starts in on me, I’ll tell her to go talk to a chair leg.