Friday, December 07, 2007
I had told Mandarine that once I got a cat, I'd post his or her picture once a month. Since Mandarine posts his the first Monday of every month, it seems appropriate to post Francis the first Friday of every month. This is where he likes to sit while I'm working. My desk is to the right of this old couch, which is probably going to need to be re-stuffed as he gets bigger and bigger and that back cushion becomes more and more crushed. The other day it snowed, and he sat up on that windowsill behind him and watched the mysterious white stuff coming from the sky for hours.
THE REAL STORY
Hey look, the smaller of the Huge Food Dispensers (HFD from here on out) has finally left the fascinating flashing screen open and abandoned, and with a picture ME nonetheless. But what slander. I knew perfectly well I was looking at snow. Everyone told me when I was out in the Big World that it would be best to find shelter before the snow came. It's just pretty to watch. Anyway, normally when I try to jump on HFD's lap when she's playing with the fascinating flashing screen, she won't let me paw at or walk across the black buttons, but now that I've got it all to myself, I thought it was about high time you heard my side of the story.
Oh, hold on a minute. There's an evil dust ball peeking out from under the desk. I've got to go pounce on it and bat it around a bit before it takes over the whole house. I'll be right back...
Phew! I'm back, but that was a close call. You see that dust ball was merely a decoy for the PAPER CLIP that thought it could sneak by while the dust ball was distracting me. I showed it. Honestly, I don't know how these HFDs managed to survive in this house full of menacing creatures before I arrived. The tassels are some of the worst. Tassels everywhere: their pillows, their carpets, their lampshades...Luckily, the HFDs weren't here too long before I came to save the day.
I didn't mean to terrify you, though, with mention of such things as tassels and paper clips, and I won't say anything about my brave adventures with the horrible pajama tie that broke off the smaller HFD's pajamas. Rest assured, I'm taking care of it all now, so you need not fear for the HFDs. Now, back to my story.
When I was out in the Big World, working hard for my food, but valiantly carrying on, my fellow kinsmen and other friendly folk would talk of the HFDs. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure I believed they really existed. I mean, they seemed pretty unbelievable, these giants who walk on two legs, live in enclosed spaces, choosing to trap themselves in these enclosed spaces with all of the most terrifying and threatening monsters known to the world. You name it, they lock themselves in with it: ribbons! buttons! cords! wrapping paper! shoelaces! They actually wear those buttons dangerously close to their hearts, of all the stupid things to do.
The word on the street, though, was "don't laugh at them. Try to find some that will let you live with them. They may be stupid, wandering around, barely managing to escape death each day, but they dispense food twice a day." This food is amazing. They put it in a little round trap that obviously subdues it so that it just sits there and lets you eat it. You don't have to track it down. You don't have to chase after it. Pretty unbelievable, huh?
Well, I thought so. I also thought that the way to capture an HFD of my very own sounded like something straight out of Edith Hamilton. Starve yourself, arrive looking pitiful, cuddle up to them and purr if they pick you up? Except for the starving part, it seemed way too easy. I was told the best target was a kitten HFD who would immediately go running to any adult HFDs nearby to announce my existence, guaranteeing my acceptance into their enclosed space.
I'm here to tell you it's no myth. I found a bunch of kitten HFDs, dangerously hitting a light sphere with a light stick, but I had so successfully starved myself, I didn't have the strength to protect them. All I could do was creep pitifully out of the bushes, which is when they immediately did as predicted and raced inside to tell the adults. Before I knew it, I was being passed around from one HFD to another. And I promise you, it's no lie. The biggest sucker is easy to smell. I knew it from the instant he held me to his chest where I spotted the hideous buttons that proved how badly he needed me.
That, my friends, is how I came to live in this enclosed space where, in exchange for keeping pens and pencils on the floor, trapped behind couches and chairs, I never have to worry about a juicy meal that gets away. I'd say, it's a rather fair exchange.
Oh my! Look at the time! It's 10:00 p.m. I'd better hurry up, or I'm going to be late for the dance-pounce-and-scamper-about hours of the day. Can you believe those dumb HFDs think this time of day is meant for sleep?