Whiskers to whiskers.

January 2, 2012

Our hearts were broken. I was 8. My sister was 7. Toots was 1. Maybe. And she wasn’t trained. But we didn’t care. She was Toots. One day gone. No Toots. Our mother told us that she had run off. We knew it was a lie. No more cats in my life, I determined. But all the women I have lived with loved cats. And they were all pests. Or jealous. One always ran at your ankles when you were descending the steps. Trying to send you plummeting to your death. Another had a taste for testicles. In the middle of the night the beast would grab a hold of your manhood. Some were fat. Sitting there on the couch where I wanted to lay down. Daring you. We did have a cat when my son was born. He lived for over 20 years. He was my son’s cat. Never came near me. Until I had to bury him. But now we have a cat. B&W. Most affectionate animal I have every encountered. We sleep whiskers to whiskers. He likes me. I like him.



Like a fashion model down the ramp. Step by step. Eyes riveted. Ahead. Shoulders in a military pose. Tip toes. Her tail rose perpendicular to her body. Her golden hairs were smooth and soft. There was a certain demure smile on her face. Whiskers curled melodiously out from her cheeks. The golden cat moved across the top of the shelves. She looked down at Alvin sitting in his stroller. His little head turned upwards to the monitor. He was enthralled. With what he saw on the screen. It annoyed the golden cat. This child captivated by the monitor hanging from the ceiling. While she was there. To be looked at. Her foot steps became smaller. She found some invisible steps. To the floor. Arched her body against the stroller and rubbed. Alvin did not react. She rubbed against his legs. Still there was no reaction. He kept looking at the screen. She leaned closer to the little boy, her body almost perpendicular to the ground so intent was she on grasping the boy’s attention. Her tail ran across the small boy’s face. He smiled. And grabbed the tail. The cat screeched. Caught. Tried to pull loose. Turned on Alvin. Hissed. But it was the boy who pulled. There was a look of triumph in his eyes. His teeth jagged. He laughed. Feline eyes bulged. The golden cat panicked. And struggled to free herself. Alvin held on tighter. The cat crouched, crawling down the aisle, pulling the stroller behind her. Alvin threw his head back. Like Judah Ben Hur. His mouth open to the breeze. And laughed.

2 Responses to “Whiskers to whiskers.”

  1. I love cats. But not our cat– she only likes men. Hmph. Best way to capture a cat’s attention is to ignore it.

  2. Great stuff! I feel a connection so I have nominated you for this;
    http://strangetriptimes.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/leibster-award1.png A Liebster award! An award for those blogs with under 200 followers that bring a smile to my face,

    Now for The Liebster Award Rules and nominations:
    The Meaning; Liebster is German and means sweetest, kindest, nicest,dearest, beloved, lovely, kindly, pleasant, valued, cute, endearing, and welcome.

    The rules for the Liebster Blog Award are:

    1. Thank your Liebster Blog Award presenter on your blog.

    2. Link back to the blogger who awarded you.

    3. Copy & paste the blog award on your blog

    4. Reveal your 5 blog picks.

    5. Let them know you choose them by leaving a comment on their blog.

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