As if he were a disfigured step child, he was locked up in the bedroom when company arrived. Who did they think they were, Rumpelstiltskin? That was just the beginning of the offenses he endured. He was the golden one before their human child entered the scene. Then it was always, "Diggery, stay away from the baby." "Diggery, go away." Diggery, no!" He really didn't have any interest in that loud, smelly baby anyway. When they lived in the apartments, the children there always pulled his tail and cornered him in the laundry room to do unspeakable things to him and for this reason he wanted to stay away from little people. He had had enough of miniature humans, including the offspring of his people.
He finally was fed up with being taken for granted. Everyday, his lady-person would let him out when he stood at the door and asked, then back in when he asked. One day, she made him WAIT! For the love of all that is good and furry! How dare she?! He hatched a plan (which ultimately blew up in his face) that when she called him back in at night fall, he wouldn't come. He would make her WAIT; maybe for a night - two days at most. Then she would really know what kind of cat she was dealing with.
Night fall came, she called him in. He sat behind the bushes snickering. He heard her footsteps coming towards him, calling him. Far too satisfied with the heightening worry in her voice, he sneaked under the deck. She could wait a little longer.
At last, she went inside, visibly concerned with his whereabouts. Now that he had the night before him, he went exploring, looking perhaps, for a sexy girl cat or a group of alley cats shooting dice and smoking cigarettes. Not much happens in the burbs so he didn't have his hopes up.
He eventually did come across some interesting looking ladies. They were gorgeous and exotic: a Siamese, a Burmese, and a Himalayan. They sat on a front porch lush in potted plants, sipping colorful drinks with umbrellas in them. He sauntered up, raised one eyebrow and said, "meow."
They looked straight at him and laughed! Why ever would these lovely girls be interested in a tom cat like him? Being a dapper gentleman, he immediately recognized the misunderstanding. He stood on their porch, not even a foot away from them, and invited them to the gun show. He flexed his biceps, then turned around to show them the manliness of his rear end. He shook his rump one way, then the other, then he shook it so fast they were dizzy with delight!
They invited him to sit with them, to drink and enjoy nibbling on the plants. Something must have been in those plants. The more he ate, the more they giggled at his jokes and rubbed up against him. He was in tom-cat-heaven. The next thing he knew the sun was on the horizon. He wasn't thinking clearly. They invited him inside for a nap - and although there was a little voice in the back of his head that warned him against it, he accepted the invitation.
They all napped together on a plush sofa. He luxuriated in the three fluffy, beautiful, warm bodies against his. It reminded him of a scene from Bram stokers Dracula, but he was far too intoxicated by their beauty and their plants to perceive the danger looming.
"My, my, what's this, my pretties? What have you brought home to mother?" shrilled an old voice, just above his head (and at an obscene hour, he needed more rest). He glanced up and first smelled moth balls before his eyes focused and he saw an old woman with thick glasses, blue, thinning hair, a dirty house dress and lacking in teeth. He shrugged it off, planning on leaving soon anyway and closed his eyes at an attempt to finish his nap.
With an agenda of her own, the little old lady picked him up off the couch and carried him away. He wanted to fight, he tried to fight, his muscles weren't doing what his brain told them to do. "Man, what WERE those plants?" he wondered. "My, my, aren't you a heavy thing!" exclaimed the lady.
The next thing he knew, he awoke in near darkness. It smelled putrid. His whiskers sensed he was in a cramped space, perhaps a closet. Everything was spinning at first, then he saw a sliver of light where the bottom of the door was. He reached his paws under the door - nothing. His heart began to race. What had he gotten himself into? He panicked. He could see nothing, he crashed into the walls - this was a small and cluttered closet. He felt something soft and hard fall against him. With only the light from under the door he tried turning his head this way and that way to reflect it off his eyes (he is a cat, after all, they can see in the dark, its believable). To his horror it was a dead, male cat! His eyes traveled up the back the of the closet and his saw stacks of them, stuffed and with glass eyes! Who were these monsters? More importantly, how will he escape? Can he escape?
Over the next several weeks, the lady brought small amounts of food and slid them under the door. It tasted like grass. She mentioned that he was "prize" but that he needed to lose some weight. Not only was he insulted by her suggestions that he was overweight but he was also uncertain of the food she was feeding to him. After all, the plants he ate tasted great but landed him in this mess. He ate only when he felt as though he was losing his life to starvation.
He never saw the girls again. They were probably kept in a different part of the compound - or where ever he was. He missed his people, even the baby who was now a walking terror. He regretted scratching him and making him cry. He regretted punishing his person by staying outside after he had been called in. He just wanted to be home.
Finally, the old lady opened the door. "Now let's have a look at you. You should be ready by now." She was wearing some sort of black, plastic haz-mat suit and holding a number of weapons. He saw the equipment behind her and recognized it immediately. He saw a documentary about this while his people were on vacation.
He was kidnapped by a maniacal taxidermist with a penchant for male cats!What happened next came from a combination of fear, reflex, and divine intervention. He was weak. He not eaten or drank properly in weeks, yet he bolted. Where the strength, power and speed came from, he knew not. He dodged furniture as she chased him through the house. She alerted the girls, the wicked sirens, and they blocked the cat door. He ran and ran in circles throughout the rooms, hoping to at least wear her down and buy him some more time. At that moment, a door through the kitchen opened and a man wearing large boots walked in, humming a tune and carrying some parcels - perhaps for his demise. He shimmied through the man's legs and saw a garage door closing in the distance. He raced for the opening and made it - just barely - the fur on the top of his shoulders scraped against it. He was free!
It was daytime, early in the day too. There were kids waiting at bus stops and cars blocking the intersections. He walked down vaguely familiar streets noticing signs posted with his picture. Did his people miss him too? Maybe they did! His heart delighted in the near reality of being at home again. He wanted to sprint back to them but his legs couldn't carry him that quickly. He felt weak and excited at the same time.
He turned a corner and caught sight of his house, his plants (that he knew). His heart leaped! He stood at the door crying, "Meeeeeeoooowwwwwwww!" His lady person opened the door, their eyes met. She held him and cried, took him inside and offered to give him some privacy in the bedroom for him to relax. Though he didn't want to be alone. He had missed her so, and even missed the offspring. He stayed on the chair for the rest of the day. Cleaning his messy fur.
His person got him some wet food and clean water. He was home and he was happy again.
(this post dedicated to Diggery - I'm so glad you returned home safely - I almost bought your "mom" a kitten if you waited a few more days!)
(this post inspired by the episode of Spongebob Squarepants wherein Gary runs away and ends up as a prisoner of a crazy old lady).
welcome home, Diggery! (you might think he looks a lot like my cat, Kasha. you're right - they resemble one another, but both of his ears are intact)
here he looks like he is smiling
Gabriel has to do immuno-therapy. anyone have suggestions how to comfort kids when they are getting shots?
i'm going to work on this. i think this is a cool idea but the execution of it didn't go so well.
at Gabriel's last soccer game. he played against one of his friends.
Ethan hanging out with Soso. still, he didn't want to sit with me.
G couldn't part with his medal for the remainder of the day. here he is at bedtime.
Ethan pretends to get a medal
Ethan pretends to have a medal, Gabriel pretends to carry (my) backpack - they are both "fighting guys"
