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Flying Cat

by David Yehudah, Bellflower, CA, USA


Hope you're all having a great Christmas (or Kwanzaa, or Ramadan).

This morning we slept in late. The bedroom was cool but not cold enough to turn on the heater. Just enough to pull the extra blanket up off the foot of the bed and snuggle a little closer.

Maccabee was lying on my feet in an attitude of utter exhaustion. Maybe he had been dreaming of chasing cats or something, because he was limp as a dishrag.

Patty was rolled over with her back to me, legs drawn up for warmth, just drifting in and out of a light sleep. Sasha lay up against Patty's thighs, curled up with her nose under her own armpit (Yewww!). Willoughby was snuggled up against Patty's knees from behind.

I saw Willoughby look up and reconnoiter Sasha's position. Slowly one little paw came up and over, and Willoughby patted Sasha on the behind, then pulled his paw back. He rightly suspected if he got caught doing that and his reflexes were slow, he could wind up being called Lefty the rest of his life. Sasha hates to be touched in the backside. Sasha didn't move.

Up came that little paw again. This time he nudges her a couple of times before pulling it back. Sasha raised her head and growled down deep in her throat. Not content to let wretched enough alone, he did it again. Sasha growled even deeper. The tip of her tail started twitching. Willoughby poked her again and her ears went flat against her head. The growls were getting louder and more high-pitched. Fangs were produced and hissed over. Sasha's spring was really wound tight. Willoughby's probable life span was shrinking right before my eyes. He reached and touched her one last time, and just as Sasha bunched her muscles to spring, the phone rang.

Patty instantly sprang to her feet and sprinted for the living room. Sasha was flung about five feet into the air, turning end over end and screeching with rage, paws flailing and teeth gnashing, and landed right on top of Maccabee.


Maccabee got his weekly ration of. . .well, you know, in about the two seconds it took him to run howling from the room, Sasha in the saddle and pounding leather for all she was worth.

A few minutes later Mac came back in the bedroom. It took me a moment to realize what was different about him. His eyelids were stretched so wide you could see the whites of his eyes all the way around.

Interesting morning, all things considered.


Editor's note:


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