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I Swear

by David Yehudah, Bellflower, CA, USA


These little hairy varmint critters are trying to make me laugh myself to death.

This morning I decided to make a pot of coffee. The coffee and filters are in a small cabinet on the floor. The door is directly in front of the critters' watering dish. I opened the spring-loaded door and pushed it wide open, a position that disables the spring until the door is almost closed. The door was to have remained open while I prepared the coffee maker. In the same cabinet are the kitty treats.

Enter Samantha. Samantha loves kitty treats. Samantha will kill for kitty treats. With a glad cry she made to stick her head in the open cabinet door, and in so doing she lost track of where her paws were. She was annoyed but not deterred when one paw went into the water. Without breaking stride she lifted the wet paw and tried to shake it dry, putting another paw in the water in the process.

She stopped for a moment, alternately shaking paws dry, putting them back in the water, and trying to get to the kitty treats. She gave a lunge that cleared her paws of the water but allowed her tummy to drag in the water. Thoroughly p***ed Sam tried to back out, putting her paws in the water again.

Enter Mac. Mac was thirsty. Mac wasn't going to let any old cat get between him and the water dish. Mac cold-nosed Sam right in the round brown, causing Sam to lunge forward, dragging her belly through the water and sticking both hind paws in the dish, sloshing water all over her and Mac both. Mac didn't mind the water, but he was beginning to realize he may have blundered. Sam is quite capable of having pup for lunch anytime she wants. Mac decided discretion was the better part of valor and retreated rapidly.

By now Sam is just a blur of fighting mad, sopping wet Siamese, spinning in place and eager to take on the first soul she sees.

Enter Cherokee. He trotted around the corner to see what the commotion was, and bumped that spring-loaded door in the process. Sam was almost clear of the cabinet when the door suddenly sprang at her from nowhere, causing her to jump back in reflex and land in the water dish again. The door swatted her in the nose and tried to push her into the cabinet. The water made everything so slippery she couldn't get traction and thus she found herself in mortal combat with all kinds of gremlins, goblins, and unknown forces apparently trying to either drown her, beat her to death, or both at once. Everytime she swatted that door, it sprang back and attacked her again. All at once she jumped clear and settled on Cherokee as the root and cause of her predicament. Not one to be cowed by superior size, Sam screeched like a banshee and attacked.

Although he can get playful and kittenish on rare occasions, Cherokee is mostly an arthritic, geriatric type puss who normally takes the stairs one at a time, slowly, carefully, and thoughtfully as befits his age and dignity. This time he made the stairs in a blur, followed closely by Sam. I don't think he even knew why or what or anything about it. He just took one look at Sam and shoved.

Interesting way to start the day.


Editor's note:


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