Donald and James were very good cats. They (mostly) didn't get on tables. They (mostly) didn't jump on counters. They (mostly) did not try to kick the boss' computer off her lap to make room for naps. However, all cats have their weaknesses. Donald and James loved flowers. They loved to look at them. They loved to smell them. They would probably have loved to eat them, but the boss had stopped all attempts at this, so while they suspected that flowers were delicious, they didn't yet know for certain.
One memorable day, the boss put a beautiful bouquet on the kitchen counter. Donald, very round and uncharacteristically clumsy for a cat, stretched his paws up toward them. He pawed at the cabinet. He sniffed the air. Then, gathering all his strength, he jumped onto the counter. The boss, fussing over something on the stove, rushed over to pick him up, and he let out a squeak of resignation. He had been so close. As she set him on the floor, she patted his head and told him, "I'm disappointed in you for jumping on the counter, but I'm impressed you made it on the first try!" He made a sad little face, and went to check to see if any new food had appeared in his bowl. It had not. Disappointment all around.
James had watched the whole thing, and waited for the boss to go into the living room. Unfortunately for him, his size made jumping onto the counter a noisy endeavor, and he was similarly picked up, removed from the flowers and scolded.
When the boss left the house later that day, she put the flowers in the forbidden master bedroom. Both cats sat outside the door for several minutes after she left, checking to see if the door could be opened. It could not. Yawning, they padded to the guest room to find some good sunbeams.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Chapter 5: Heroic Origins
Donald and James were littermates, and they had been together their whole lives, from a shelter, to their first owner, to another shelter, and this place. They had been with the boss for years. When they first arrived, they were put in the basement, because it was the only area with carpet. They sat underneath the bed in the basement bedroom for an hour, and then they had gingerly made their way up to the living room. They explored every inch of the house. James learned that the closed keyboard cover of the piano in the living room was perfectly shaped for napping, or lying on his back and meowing for attention! He also learned that he was not allowed on the piano.
Their first owner had loved them very much, and they had come with a little brown mouse toy and a plastic heart on a shoelace. These were their favorite toys for a long time, and they still loved and played with them, but as the years passed, new favorites had arrived. Larger toy mice. Foil balls that made a wonderful sound when batted across the floor. Pieces of ribbon. A fish on a toy fishing rod, then, eventually, the individual components of the fishing rod toy, cunningly separated and played with all around the house. All toys were wonderful toys.
The boss had made them some little fleece balls, which bounced in a charmingly unpredictable manner. They stored them under the couch for safekeeping, but the boss would always find them and put them under the coffee table. They couldn't understand why she insisted on doing this, but they would dutifully put them away, under the couch again, until the next time. The boss had also made them some little fleece pillows. They were good for sitting on, bunny kicking, and putting toys near, on and under. The toy piles were always very deliberate, and they probably meant something, but the cats never bothered to explain. Sometimes the boss would do a similar thing next to the front door, putting snowy socks and mittens in a row. The cats approved, and would often add little toys to the lineup. The boss would laugh when she saw this, but they never understood why.
Chapter 4: No Surprises at Dinnertime
Now that the boss was home, it was time to get ready for dinner! The cats got two kinds of food, and each cat had a different favorite. They had made their preferences known over the years, and they were familiar with the boss' serving technique. First the wet food, then the dry food.
James, a handsome tuxedo cat with a substantial pink belly, loved wet food. He didn't care what kind. He would meow loudly and happily and stand where the bowls with the wet food would go. He would wait, sometimes patiently, sometimes not, as the boss got dinner ready. Sometimes, he would put little toys in with his wet food. One time, the boss had walked into the kitchen to find him lying on his back, his head resting in his food bowl, lazily scooping food into his mouth with his paw, a toy fish sitting next to the bowl, silent witness to the whole, disgusting display.
Donald was a fluffy, very round, gray cat with white socks and a white chin. He loved dry food, and would stand where the bowls with the dry food would go, meowing and chirping expectantly. He was more interested in eating, and had no time for toy-in-food-dish shenanigans. A sensitive little soul, his eyes would light up when he heard the rattle of dry food in its bin.
This was a time of great excitement, and the boss would talk quietly, perhaps to herself, perhaps to the cats, as she measured out their dinner and made sure that each bowl had an equal amount of food in it. It never mattered. Sometimes they would go to separate dishes, sometimes they would share a dish. There were never any little disagreements during dinnertime.
James, a handsome tuxedo cat with a substantial pink belly, loved wet food. He didn't care what kind. He would meow loudly and happily and stand where the bowls with the wet food would go. He would wait, sometimes patiently, sometimes not, as the boss got dinner ready. Sometimes, he would put little toys in with his wet food. One time, the boss had walked into the kitchen to find him lying on his back, his head resting in his food bowl, lazily scooping food into his mouth with his paw, a toy fish sitting next to the bowl, silent witness to the whole, disgusting display.
Donald was a fluffy, very round, gray cat with white socks and a white chin. He loved dry food, and would stand where the bowls with the dry food would go, meowing and chirping expectantly. He was more interested in eating, and had no time for toy-in-food-dish shenanigans. A sensitive little soul, his eyes would light up when he heard the rattle of dry food in its bin.
This was a time of great excitement, and the boss would talk quietly, perhaps to herself, perhaps to the cats, as she measured out their dinner and made sure that each bowl had an equal amount of food in it. It never mattered. Sometimes they would go to separate dishes, sometimes they would share a dish. There were never any little disagreements during dinnertime.
Chapter 3: The Boss Comes Home
Donald and James awoke to the loud, strange sound that came from the room next to the basement. They weren't allowed in there, but on one occasion, James had managed to sneak in. It was a cold room, with a large piece of furniture in the middle of it. He hadn't understood it, but he had walked around and then eventually made himself comfortable underneath it. The boss tried to get him to come out, but gave up quickly and closed the door. While James loved doing what he wanted and not listening to anyone else, it was boring being all alone in the dark, so he went to the door and meowed. The boss let him in, and he checked to see if any new food had appeared in his bowl. No luck. Still, it never hurt to check. Since that day, he had peered into that strange room, but he hadn't bothered to go back. It wasn't soft or warm or interesting, and he had better places to nap.
Sometimes, when the cats heard the sound that meant the boss was home, they would run over to that door and meow until the boss opened it. Then she would laugh and step inside carefully, since they had a talent for getting little paws and little tails underfoot. She had actually stepped on Donald's tail once, and he made a terrible sound, but he forgave her. It wasn't her fault her feet were so big and clumsy. She tried to be more careful after that. Sometimes, when they heard the sound that meant the boss was home, they would stay put and keep dozing. There was always plenty of time to greet the boss.
This particular time, Donald and James stretched, yawned, and made their way to the door. The boss came in, distracted as usual, and they took turns meowing at her and pawing at her knees. She laughed and petted their fuzzy little heads, saying "Hello! Hello! How was your day?" They were always happy to see her, though they never understood where she went. Why would anyone leave such a cozy place? Surely she wondered the same thing.
Sometimes, when the cats heard the sound that meant the boss was home, they would run over to that door and meow until the boss opened it. Then she would laugh and step inside carefully, since they had a talent for getting little paws and little tails underfoot. She had actually stepped on Donald's tail once, and he made a terrible sound, but he forgave her. It wasn't her fault her feet were so big and clumsy. She tried to be more careful after that. Sometimes, when they heard the sound that meant the boss was home, they would stay put and keep dozing. There was always plenty of time to greet the boss.
This particular time, Donald and James stretched, yawned, and made their way to the door. The boss came in, distracted as usual, and they took turns meowing at her and pawing at her knees. She laughed and petted their fuzzy little heads, saying "Hello! Hello! How was your day?" They were always happy to see her, though they never understood where she went. Why would anyone leave such a cozy place? Surely she wondered the same thing.
Chapter 2: Naps Naps Naps
Sitting on postcards was serious business. After making sure that all the pieces of floor paper had been appropriately investigated, Donald curled up in his favorite sunbeam in the guest bedroom. His favorite nap spot was the master bed, but that bedroom was closed up when the boss was away. Something about James' inability to leave plastic alone, and the boss' refusal to James-proof that room. Donald put a paw on the piece of clothesline with a knot in it. It was much better than the piece without a knot, but he couldn't have articulated why. He could articulate many things, but they mostly covered general happiness, general displeasure, and "where is my breakfast?" He was a very talkative little cat.
While Donald dozed, James hopped up on the couch in the living room to look out the picture window and see if there were any squirrels or neighborhood cats out and about. There weren't, but the mailman was walking toward the door. James had seen this often enough to know what came next, but he couldn't stop himself from jumping when the mail fell through the slot. He shook himself and stretched. All this excitement was too much to take in. Time for a nap. He curled up under the coffee table and put a paw around his stuffed penguin. It didn't have a name, but aside from Donald, it was his best friend.
After about an hour of this, both cats made their way to the office. The sun was bright and strong, and it fell perfectly on the middle of the futon in that room. Donald and James curled up in a mass of black, gray and white fur and fell asleep. If there had been anyone in the house, they would have heard the soft, strange sound of cats snoring.
While Donald dozed, James hopped up on the couch in the living room to look out the picture window and see if there were any squirrels or neighborhood cats out and about. There weren't, but the mailman was walking toward the door. James had seen this often enough to know what came next, but he couldn't stop himself from jumping when the mail fell through the slot. He shook himself and stretched. All this excitement was too much to take in. Time for a nap. He curled up under the coffee table and put a paw around his stuffed penguin. It didn't have a name, but aside from Donald, it was his best friend.
After about an hour of this, both cats made their way to the office. The sun was bright and strong, and it fell perfectly on the middle of the futon in that room. Donald and James curled up in a mass of black, gray and white fur and fell asleep. If there had been anyone in the house, they would have heard the soft, strange sound of cats snoring.
Chapter 1: A Doomed Business Venture
Donald and James were cats. Large, fuzzy cats, that some might call portly. They were fat little dudes, and they loved almost everything about their house. They loved looking out the windows and chirping at birds and squirrels. They loved all the furniture they got to sit on. They loved all the furniture they got to sit underneath! They loved the toys their boss got for them, and the pieces of colorful tissue wrapping paper that she put on the floor for them to sit on. They particularly liked putting their toys on and under this paper, because it made a wonderful noise. Christmas was a very exciting time of year, because there was even more loud paper than usual! They did not love when their boss would listen to Britney Spears or Kylie Minogue. They'd look at each other, stare icily at their boss, then walk over to the basement stairs to play until the music stopped. Interestingly, they didn't seem to mind Cher. They had eclectic tastes.
For a brief, shining moment, they had had their very own business cards. They said "Donald and James: Handsome, Sassy Housecats. For All Your Door Opening Needs." If they had been consulted, they probably would have not included "sassy" as a descriptor. Their door-opening business didn't really go anywhere, mostly because they're weren't honestly all that good at opening doors after all. If a door had been improperly closed, perhaps they could eventually open it, if they really wanted to. Additionally, the business cards did not include contact information, because neither Donald nor James had an email account or a cellphone. They did have a mailing address, but were illiterate. Despite this, they enjoyed postcards.
They enjoyed sitting on postcards.
For a brief, shining moment, they had had their very own business cards. They said "Donald and James: Handsome, Sassy Housecats. For All Your Door Opening Needs." If they had been consulted, they probably would have not included "sassy" as a descriptor. Their door-opening business didn't really go anywhere, mostly because they're weren't honestly all that good at opening doors after all. If a door had been improperly closed, perhaps they could eventually open it, if they really wanted to. Additionally, the business cards did not include contact information, because neither Donald nor James had an email account or a cellphone. They did have a mailing address, but were illiterate. Despite this, they enjoyed postcards.
They enjoyed sitting on postcards.
Note to self: write a cat novel
"The boss had left for the day. now it was time to see what she'd done to the house during the night. All the blankets were carefully made. 'This won't do,' thought James. He pounced and bunnykicked! He brought his stuffed penguin over to keep an eye on Donald. Donald was a terrible whiner."
--excerpt from "Death Waddled Like a Penguin" by T.L. Ragnarok
--excerpt from "Death Waddled Like a Penguin" by T.L. Ragnarok
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