Dad didn’t work yesterday. So what, you ask? Well, Mom hogged the office nearly all day, that’s what. By afternoon, I could see I wasn’t getting the computer, so I went outside.
Nice and quiet-like, I was under Dad’s pickup waiting for some birds to show up. Guess who shows up instead? You guessed it—Mom. I couldn’t figure out what she was doing with a bucket of water, but with her moving around the yard, I knew the birds weren’t gonna gather on our grass.
It didn’t matter, really. After staring out over the yard, a guy gets tired. I thought about getting out from under the pickup and go to my chair on the porch, or get up on the pickup and watch Mom. But my head got too heavy to hold up, and my eyelids dropped shut. Now and again when she’d open and close a car door, I’d half open my eyes, then fall back to sleep.
Suddenly cold water zapped me, and Mom was screaming, “Oh, poor KittyCat, Mommy’s so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
I scrambled to Dad who had come out to sit on the porch.
“He’s OK,” Dad said, pulling a cat treat from his pocket. “He’s barely wet.”
What people call “barely wet” is what cats call “water torture.” Rinsing her car, Mom had aimed the water hose at a headlight. Water bounced from it like a tornado’s downpour to where I was sleeping under Dad’s pickup.
We all went in after a bit, and I headed for the office chair. Guess what? Mom gets Monster out and starts sucking up stuff off the office floor. It wudda ate me if I hadn’t been in the chair. When she turned Monster off to move a file box, I moved, too—right outta the office.
On Aunt Pen’s refrigerator is a computer picture a friend made for her. It’s supposed to be Snookie wearing a crown (a diamond tiara, says Snook the snob). I think it’s a tabby picture lifted from a flea collar ad. Anyhow, above it in big fancy letters is “Cats Rule.” And they do, says Snook.
Oh Yeah? Wish someone would tell Mom.
(c) 2011, Bernice W. Simpson