Tuesday, January 22, 2013

A new voice needs to be heard

Yawn.  Stretch.  I think I'll readjust my position now and soon take another cat nap after I have a word or two with you.  I have been around this place for seven months and that tall lady that feeds me flaked salmon from a can every morning has finally let me have a voice.  I think it was pressure she was getting from some of you readers.  I thank you for helping her come to her senses.

I am Simba.  Here me roar!  Or maybe just meow.  Or maybe purr loudly.  I am an orange tabby cat.  I have no idea where I came from, but I am here now and I hope you just deal with it.

There is a big, stupid, hairy dog here named Lisi.  She has had a problem with me from the beginning.  She tries to get in the way so the tall people around here can't scratch me behind my ears.  She's just jealous because we cats are more clever and can live our own lives without needing attention all the time.  And she's dumb.  Have I said that yet?  When she's lying on that big, soft dog bed, I can go and pretend to play with her.  The confused dog gets up thinking we are going to play and I sneak in and lie down on a pre-warmed bed.  Now you tell me.  Which is smarter?  A cat or a dog?  I think you answered your question.

There are some tall people here.  One hangs around here quite a bit.  She talks to me all the day long.  I put my ears back sometimes trying to get her to be quiet.  Usually it works.  The other tall person isn't around as much.  I can tell there are times he doesn't like me so well.  He's got some kind of preoccupation with those big things in the garage I like to sit on top of.  He pretends to not like me sometimes, but he's the one who stays up late to make sure I'm safe and sound.

Then there are the shorter people here.  They have treated me properly.  Sometimes they drag me into a fort or put some clothes on me.  I tolerate it because they are my people.  And I'm pretty good-natured for being a cat.

I'm very sick of this cold.  I have only lived nine months so I don't know if that warm weather was just a passing thing and it won't ever be nice out again.  I've tried to complain loudly to the tall lady that is here all the time, but she just tells me to be quiet.  And sometimes, she uses her foot to help push me out the door.  I can't stand it when a person tries to tell me what to do.

So I will soon have more stories to tell.  I'm curious as cats generally are and so I'll have material to work with.  I'm smart and aloof and love warm laps and a champion killer all at the same time.  But before I wear myself out, I'm going to take another cat nap.

1 comment:

  1. Sorry Simba, but I like dogs better than cats, however, you appear to be quite irresistible and a very talented writer!!