When Mom hears me hiss at Monster, (that’s what I call the vacuum cleaner) she gets scared I’ll bite its cord to make it shut up, so she puts me outside. Mr. M down the street parks his black pickup right beside a tree that’s lately covered with tons of flowers. I get up on the cab’s roof, tuck my white paws under me and put my head down.
Ha, ha. Either I’m camouflaged real good, or the only thing bright about birds is their feathers. I lie there, real quiet like. Birds come and don’t even see me. When they really get into flitting around and jabbering away to one another, I leap to a branch. Sometimes I land right on top of a stupid bird.
The birds take off in all directions. Valor, Mr. M.’s dog, gets all excited. She tries to catch a bird or two and misses cuz she’s on a chain. Then Valor sees me and barks herself hoarse cuz back on the truck, I hiss just to get her going real crazy. It’s great fun.
Mom would get real upset if she saw those petals and tail feathers go raining down from the tree, but Mr. M. just laughs. “Way to go, Phantom,” he says and gives me cat treats.
Phantom. Nice name. Before I got adopted a family that let me sleep in their garage called me that. How I got stuck with KittyCat is another story...for another day.
(c) 2011, Bernice Simpson
(c) 2011, Bernice Simpson
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