I was sitting on my sofa watching TV. Autumn came into the living room and jumped onto my lap.
“Oh, well hello there,” I said to her.
“You can start petting me now,” she said with a tone that made it clear this was not a request.
“Is that so?” I asked with a slight smirk on my face. “I’ve been given permission to pet you, huh?”
“Yes, and please follow the instructions this time. First, start by scratching behind my ears and then the top of my head. Follow that by stroking me down my back. Once you get to my tail, scratch me at the base for no more than 30 seconds. You may then stroke my tail. Once that’s done, repeat several times.”
“What if I don’t want to pet you right now?” I asked. She looked at me blankly for a moment.
“Sometimes you make no sense,” she said turning her head away from me. “Please pay attention to my instructions. The petting must be done correctly.”
“And if it’s not?” I asked curiously.
“Do you think I want to bite and claw you for getting it wrong?” she asked surprised.
I began petting her according to her instructions. “You know…” I began.
“Hush!” she admonished me. “No talking during the petting.”
I rolled my eyes but continued petting her. After about three minutes of silent cat massage, she suddenly stood up on my lap.
“That is sufficient,” she stated. “You may go now.”
“Yeah, uh… I was here first,” I said.
“I wish to sleep on the claw scratcher. I think you’ve warmed up a spot for me. I will nap now,” she said regally.
I pushed her off my lap. She looked up at me with a startled expression but quickly recovered.
“Excellent idea,” she said. “It’s always best to use the litter box after grooming.”
“Whatever,” I said.
“You know what goes really well after grooming?” she asked as if she was speaking into the air. “Wet food. Yes, that would be great.”
“I fed you an hour ago,” I said trying to ignore her and watch my show. She walked to her feeding bowl.
“That’s strange, there’s no food in here,” she remarked.
“That’s because you ate it already,” I said, wishing more and more that I had rescued a dog instead of a cat.
“I don’t understand. How will I be able to eat if there is no food in my bowl? This is quite a mystery,” she exclaimed, looking piercingly at me.
“Yep, quite the mystery all right. You should spend the rest of the evening trying to solve that mystery,” I said, immediately regretting my words.
“Yes!” she cried. “A quest! I shall search for the missing food. It must be around here somewhere. I shall look everywhere and leave nothing in its place.”
With that she tore out of the kitchen and into my bedroom. I soon heard a loud crash followed by “Nope! Not there!”
I grabbed the television remote and turned up the volume. “I wonder how much anti-anxiety medications cost?”