I remember picking up our tabby cat Millie, intending to settle her upon my lap. Then something unexpected happened.
Alice and I had been watching TV, and as she rested her feet atop a pillow strategically set on the coffee table in front, I made myself super-comfortable. Lying full length, I stretched my legs across Alice’s lap. Then I unfolded a soft blanket and wrapped it around the two of us. Millie ambled over, seemingly because a cozy resting place with a soft blanket could be used to knead her paws. Our feline companion looked up enviously, and I surmised she needed a lift. So I picked her up.
Bad move.
As I brought her atop the blanket – surprise, surprise – the independent animal objected. Wresting furiously away from my grasp, a claw from her left paw sank deep inside my left pinkie finger. I shrieked in pain as the cat’s full weight bore the intruding object downward. Somehow, I managed to collect enough common sense to lower Millie down toward the floor, whereupon the claw loosened and receded, and I sank into a peculiar delirium.
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Millie’s Point of View
Man oh man, the things I have to do to maneuver these humans into acts of submission. Millie the cat here, and six months have gone by without Mason making any mention of me on this website.
The humans changed their password on the computer, so I have been unable to hack my way back here. But my maneuver put the old man out in dreamland. He looks funny with his eyes twitching, you know?
But enough of him. This post is about me, me, me!
Some cats get along with Millie
Over the past few months, I made a friend. Her name is Myrtle, and she lives on the other side of an eight-foot-high wooden fence that separates our apartment complex from a residential area. My buddy can jump all the way to the top of the fence, able to visit me at the slightest whim, while I used to be stuck on the apartment building side.
But I’m no dummy. Over time, I dug a little passageway under the fence, so now it’s no problem commiserating with her. Plus every morning, I pester Mason and Alice with some obnoxious meowing at 4 am. They relent –almost sleepwalking – and let me out. I really enjoy manipulating those two humans.
Don’t call Millie a snob
I tell Myrtle about my days and nights, and she thinks I’m cool. Lately, though, we discovered an interloper cutting through my side of the fence. And we don’t care about his name; we just call him Simpleton.
If I look at him in a certain way, he gets nervous. That’s almost as much fun as messing with Mason and Alice.
Now that I got readers’ attention, I must admit that sometimes I get bored, so I have to find new places to enjoy the day. As you can see from the top photo, I’m not camera shy either. I’m drawn to a puppet-like creature that reminds me of a Raggedy Ann doll that Alice puts on top of the cable TV box. I love hanging out with him.
I have an uncanny sense of what causes humans to gawk when I pose in a super-cute setting, so the doll sets a perfect tableau. Do you think I should audition for a cable-TV show? After all, I could become more popular than the Kardashians. Just a thought!
And look at this.
The sink in the master bathroom offers another good photo op. I like this picture a lot. I call it “Sink or Swim.” And, please, please, don’t let Mason take credit for the photo. I had to prompt him to take the shot.
Oops, gotta go. I believe Mason is beginning to snap out of it. I bet he really will be surprised to discover I write better than he does!
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Awakening from a cat’s fantasy
Boy, do I feel weird. I don’t know what a cat scratch can do, but as I read my latest post it appears I became delusional. I managed to proofread this post, and it appears humorous and utilizes some Millie photos that have been sitting around.
So maybe I’ll copyright it. But don’t you think it stretches the imagination too much? Who would believe a cat could type, or be able to communicate so much mischief?
Nah. Simply no way, José. Unless the cat got my tongue.
