Continuing Conversations With a Cat (3)

Never argue with a cat. You can't win.
Never argue with a cat. You can’t win.

I heard a noise coming from my kitchen. In a small apartment with three cats, I knew this was probably the harbinger of something I really didn’t want to see. None the less, I ventured into the kitchen to investigate. A paper bag was on the floor and I spied a long black tail poking out of it.

“Autumn, what are you doing?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

The tail disappeared and out popped a small black fuzzy head with pointy ears. “What?” she asked.

“I said, what are you doing?”

“I’m playing space cat, of course!” she replied.

“I see,” I said. “And how do you play ‘space cat’?”

Her head turned and she dove back into the bag. I heard her say “Vroom!” as the bag slipped forward on the kitchen floor. I guess that was my answer.

“Chart a course for planet catnip, navigator!” she cried in a muffled voice inside the bag. Her little feet stuck out of the sack and she pushed herself around in a circle. “Whoosh!”

Figuring I’d have a little fun with her, I grabbed the corners of the bag and pulled her quickly across the floor.

“Ah, warp speed!” she yelled “We’re gonna crash! Abandon ship!” I heard all sorts of noises coming from the bag as she tried to fling herself out of it, but for some reason, cats do not jettison themselves from bags easily. Finally she tore out head first and raced out of the kitchen and across the living room. She came to a stop about fifteen feet away.

“What are you trying to do, kill me?” she asked wide-eyed.

“Oh, c’mon,” I said, holding my palms out. “I was just playing.”

“You don’t know how to play right,” she said haughtily. “You’re like those silly dogs I see running around outside. They have no idea what they’re doing. All wrong… just all wrong.”

“You’re just mad because I scared you,” I said, trying to hold back my laughter. (Cats do NOT like being laughed at).

“Please,” she said rolling her eyes. “I was hardly scared. I just was done playing space cat, that’s all.” She began grooming herself.

“Well, if I had scared you, I apologize,” I said as I walked back into my office.

“Hmph,” she sniffed. “As if…”

I sat down at my desk and started working on a story. A few minutes passed and then I heard some swishing sounds emanating from the kitchen followed by a muffled voice. “Mission control, this is space cat. We are a go for launch. I repeat, we are a go for launch.” This was followed by a sound that could only have been a paper bag sliding across a vinyl floor.

I smiled. Every now and again, she reminds me of why I love cats.



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