Tag: cats

Mommy’s Home

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There’s a small orange fluffy cat curled up by the front door.
Two words. Two simple words can make such a difference.
He wants to hear them so badly.
He’s waiting for hours. Or has it been days?
He can’t remember when he last saw her.
It feels like forever.
He sniffs the carpet.
There’s a sound at the front door. He perks his ears up, listens.
Is it her?
No, it’s not her. Just some noise. Or someone else is home.
He sighs, curls back up, and goes back to sleep.
She’ll be home soon, Frisky. I promise you.

Ballet

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I walk out to the patio and sit in my chair by the fence.
The sun’s gone down, and the lights come on.
They are the footlights of a stage, the part of the fence that the umbrella hangs over, but the performer hasn’t been seen for a long time.
Her name’s been taken down from the marquee. The marquee remains blank – no act could follow her.
I close my eyes and remember how she danced, how she sang.
Bravissimo, I whisper, and I pull a kitty treat out of the foil pouch, placing it gently on the fencetop.
Bravissimo.

Carnival of the Cats #173 – Dusty

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Once upon a time there was a magical castle.
The magical castle was full of dust. The dishes, the knights, their armor, the paintings and tapestries were dusty.
Even the king.
“Go out and fetch me a solution to all this dust!” yelled King Dusty.
So they searched for a solution, and they found a fluffy orange cat.
And the cat fuffed up his fluffy tail and he ran around, and his tail dusted everything, and even the king.
“Hooray!” yelled everybody.
And then they all sneezed because they were allergic to the fluffy orange cat, who left hair everywhere.

Calvin and Dinner

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The wonderful thing about tiggers is that they taste delicious.
Ever eaten a tigger? No?
My oh my, if you haven’t eaten a tigger, you just haven’t lived.
It’s been a while since I’ve eaten one. In fact, it’s been a while since I’ve seen one.
Have you see any tiggers recently?
No?
I haven’t either.
I keep putting out tigger bait on my tigger traps, but at the end of the day, there’s no tiggers in the tigger traps.
Once, I caught a tiger named Hobbes, but he tasted awful.
I hope I don’t catch any more of those.

The Blair Frisky Project

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I used to be able to walk around, playing with toys.
Then, a long time ago, this other orange cat showed up.
At first, he left me alone. He’d play with his toys, picking them up and walking around, howling.
Then, once day, when I was running to the litterbox, he chased me.
I swatted him good, but he didn’t give up.
The big fat grumpus who would protect me went away.
Then the little kittycat who’d beat up the big bully went away, too.
Now it’s just me and him…
Wait.
I can hear him.
Is… Is it safe?

The Angel

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My wife didn’t go to Florida this year for Christmas, so she put up a Yule tree.
It was a fake tree, prewired with lights and pinecones. And even though it wasn’t going to shed needles, we still got a tree skirt for it.
We kept the decorations simple. And we didn’t put an angel on top.
No, that was for Piperkitty’s photo. She watched us put the tree up, but didn’t live to see us take it down.
As we take down the ornaments, I find her last tinkly collar.
I don’t remember putting it up there.
Do you?

Tiny Dancer

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As I’m sorting through my Inbox, tossing out spam and endless discussion threads, my littlest cat jumps up on top of my desk, sticks her tail in her mouth, and does a little mewing pirouette.
“Mew!” she squeaks. “Mew! Mew! Mew!”
It’s cute and silly, but after a minute of this I get a little concerned.
Is something wrong?
“What is it, Piper?” I ask.
She stops and looks me straight in the eye, tail still in her mouth.
“Mew!” she insists.
And she goes back to turning circles on the desk with her tail.
What a weird little cat.

United, We Sleep

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When we sleep, we are connected. All of us working together on solving problems.
From the greatest genius to the dullest retard, we think as one.
We fold proteins, looking for cures.
We examine evidence, looking for guilt.
We imagine technologies, looking for solutions.
We search space transmissions, looking for life.
It is a crime to disconnect and dream. Willful Waste Of Thoughtpower is punishable by Coma.
The prisons are full of the condemned, laboring hard with their minds instead of their bodies.
One day, my cat fell asleep on my pillow.
For weeks, the answer to everything was… mice.

Cat Chakras

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All this New Age stuff may seem bogus to you, but all of it’s real for people. And pets.
Chakras? Cats have ’em.
No two cats have chakras located in the same place, though. That’s why one cat will insist that you pet them on the back while other will demand that you scratch their ears and massage all of their paws at once.
If you encounter a cat who is hostile to any attempt to pet them, it is not for a lack of chakras, but that you just haven’t found them yet.
Or the cat may be nuts.

Stay up late

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I’m up later than usual, sitting in my leather chair with a blanket over my legs.
Piper is purring under the blanket at my feet. Every now and then she chirps out a musical note and goes back to purring.
Nardo is under the rocking chair, tucked up with his eyes almost completely closed.
Both of them are waiting for me to go to bed. But there are some things I need to finish up before I can shut the computer down and crawl under the covers.
A few more words…
There. Finished.
Record it, post it, and good night.