Except for one parrot, this week’s pet is my teeniest interviewee so far. Princess Penelope Leeland is a 5-month-old Persian cat, white, with silver tail and ear tips. An black eyeliner. An exotic dandelion puff.
“Good afternoon Miss … er … your … Your Fluffiness. It’s a great pleasure to meet you.”
She laughed a tiny laugh, an said, in the softest liddle meow, “Please do call me Penelope, Mr. Bonzo. I’m only princess of the house. This is my human, Miss Bethany.”
We settled in on the couch, Penelope remaining in Miss Bethany’s arms. “I’m eager to hear your story,” I said.
“Of course. I was born here in this very house. My litter had three girls (including me) an a boy. They were all adopted out, but there was just something about me, Miss Bethany says. I was just S’POSE to be part of THIS famly. My mother, Lady Annabelle, is Persian, an my Daddy, Sir Leo Alexander, is Himalayan Persian. They live here, too, along with my liddle brothers an sisters. Daddy’s great with us kids. In the morning, Mommy goes out on the porch to relax an BASK, an Daddy plays with us so Mommy can get a liddle REST. An I help, too. I love bein’ Big Sister. I teach the kittens Important Cat Stuff: how to eat; where to potty; where NOT to potty; proper grooming, things like that.”
During the entire innerview, when she wasn’t telling her story, Princess P. was purring. An purring. It was kinda hip-NOT-ick, ackshully. If I hadn’t been At Work, I coulda dozed right off.
“I noticed you have a coupla of pooches as well,” I commented.
“Ah, yes. Those are my big brothers – an bodyguards. They’re Totally Cool Catnip. Bentley’s the pit. He’s a Humane Society rescue, anna Total Sweetie. An Harley – she’s a Rottweiler. They’re both around 5. We play Paw Bops under the door. Funny thing is, Bentley loves cats, but he’s scared of other dogs (except Harley, of course). Harley, on the other paw, LOVES playin’ with fellow pooches, but she’s scared of CATS. Even me sometimes. Can you buh-LEEVE it? I mean – SERIOUSLY? She says it’s cuz she got nose bopped an yowled at by a cat as a puppy.”
“That can be traumatic.”
“I guess so,” she nodded. “I ackshully don’t think Harley REE-lizes she’s, like, a zillion times bigger than me.”
“I saw the photos of you Miss Bethany sent. Woof, they’re great! You look like you’re always ready for your close-up. It must take a lot of groomin.’”
“It does take time,” she said. “I do several cat baths every day. An, of course, I have to be Very Careful not to get any of those ghastly, ukky Hair Balls. (Oh, I hope that’s not TMI).”
I gulped. “Not at all.”
“Oh, good. Also, I know cats are s’pose to not like water but, guess what? That’s not totally true. Several of us small cat breeds enjoy swimmin’ and, I bet you didn’t know THIS, those big jungle cats, lions an tigers an leopards, they like swimmin,’ to cool off. They’re really good swimmers. As for me, after Miss Bethany takes a shower, I zip right in and splash around a liddle bit, have an ackshull cat bath.”
“Woof! I had no idea! Well, Miss Penelope, you certainly are perfectly groomed.”
She smiled a very large smile. “Why thank you, Mr. Bonzo. I do try. I really love posing! Also, to keep in shape, I do Yogurt. Specially the Down Dog. An the Cobra. An, the Cow. An, of course, the Cat Stretch. I’m EX-cellent at that one. Oh, an I can also do high fives with Miss Bethany. Look.”
Miss Bethany said, “High Five,” an held up her hand and Princess Penelope bopped it. They did this several times. I was impressed.
Suddenly, Miss Penelope jumped (gracefully) off Miss Bethany’s lap, shot across the room, and scuttled along the wall into another room. She looked like a small ghost. Presently she returned with a card.
“THIS is my official card mag-nut,” she said proudly. It says Fabulous Felines (like me, of course) an, LOOK, that’s my pick-shur!”
It was a POR-trut of Princess Penelope, paws crossed, ears up, totally lookin’ like Princess of the House.
“You can have that if you’d like,” she offered shyly.
“I’d be honored.” I tucked it into my notebook.
“I’d like you to meet my famly.”
She led us into a bright, cozy room. There were snoozing kittens an toddling kittens that all looked like fluffy tennis balls, I woof you not. An two larger cats, white an soft creamy gold.
“This is my Mommy and Daddy,” she said. Then, to them, “this is Mr. Bonzo, the reporter I told you about.”
“Welcome, young man,” said Sir Leo. “We don’t often interface with fellow pets of the canine purr-suasion, other than Harley an Bentley, but you seem a good chap. Mind you, don’t step on the liddle beans,” He nodded toward the kittens.
I tried not to move. There was so much fluffy cuteness in the room I thought I might topple right over.
“Yes,” said Lady Annabelle, her voice soft as Princess Penelope’s. “Welcome, Mr. Bonzo.”
It had been a fascinating afternoon. Heading home, my mind was full of fluffy tennis balls an tiny meows. While I still view cats as mysterious in many ways, I’m also very happy that I, as a dog, have made many new frens of the feline variety. It has really expanded my world view.
Til next time,
The Bonz