This week I had so much fun an laughed so much I kept forgetting my innerview-ee wasn’t a fellow poocheroo but a member of the species I’d heretofore thought of as mysterious an aloof.
WELL, I’m here to tell you that this fee-line is about as far from mysterious an aloof as a pet can get. If you just saw his phodo, maybe: He’s a handsome, fluffy black-an-white cat with a fluffy black tail, eck-SEEDINGLY fluffy white paws, round gold eyes, anna pink nose.
A tumble of cats anna lady met me an my assistant at the door: two tidy ginger tabbies, one tidy brown tabby an one black-an-white fluffball, who came right up to me an rubbed against my legs in a frenly way while the other three executed Traditional Sniff-an-Size-Ups.
“SO! Hi! You’re The Bonz!” said the fluffy cat. “Come’on IN! I’m Maxwell Huckleberry Faust.
You may call me Max. I saw one of your ar-dickles once. Well, ackshully, I had started rippin’ up this big piece of paper with a pickshur of a funny-lookin’ animal on it. (I learned later it was a dog.) Then Bruno said we should read it an THEN rip it up. Sorry.”
“No worries, Max! Hello everyone!” I said, innerducing my assistant.
“These are my brothers an sister, Bruno, Jasper an Zazu,” Max indicated the tidy trio. “This human is my Mama, Cat. I call her MamaCat. My Daddy’s Adam. He’s at work.”
“Good morning, Mr. Bonzo! Nice to meet ja!” chorused Bruno, Jasper, an Zazu politely, then headed out to the screen porch.
“Oops, almost forgot my MAN-ers,” Max exclaimed. “Would you like some wadder? Or a nice Hairball Greenie?”
“No, but thank you for askin,’” I said, opening my notebook. Max flopped onto the floor, flat as a fluffy pancake, his back legs sticking out on each side. “I’m all set to tell my story,” he said.
“You’re my Very First Dog, by the way. I thought there were only Humans an Cats. I only just found out about all you other animals. I wudda thought you were just a sorta funny lookin’ cat.”
“Oh, Woof, yes, there are all sorts of animals under the feathers an fur. It’s pretty Cool Kibbles, in my opinion,” I commented. “So, how’d you find your Furever Famly, Max?”
“Ackshully, me an my sibs were sorta random neighborhood cats, hangin’ out a coupla houses down, wanderin’ around. From time to time, one of us’d get grabbed up by an owl or some other scary thing, never to be seen again.”
“Oh, woof, Max. That’s terrible!” I exclaimed.
“It WAS!” he agreed. “MamaCat was just The Neighbor Lady then. She’s what humans call a Cat Person, an she was always playin’ with us. Whenever I saw her, I’d hop right up on her, an she’d roll me around an scratch my tummy an kitteny stuff like that. When she’d start to leave, I’d run to her an fall over so she’d scratch my tummy some more. You mighta noticed, I kinda hop like what MamaCat calls a Bunny, cuz my legs didn’t get put on right or somethin’ like that. It doesn’t hurt or anything, an for some reason my Humans think it’s cute.
“Anyway, this one day for some reason I felt like I HAD to find The Neighbor Lady an tell her my name. So I did. Right Then an There she scooped me up an took me to my Furever Home. I visited The Vet for the no-kittens procedure an other stuff, an I met Bruno an Jasper (they were ’dopted from the Humane Society) an Zazu (who was a stray like me).
“Since I was just a teeny kitten an they were lots older, I think I probly drove them a liddle Catnip Nuts cuzzin’ havin’ The Major Zoomies most of the time. Now I’m all grown up an muh-CHUR, mostly, an Zazu only gives me The Calm-Down-Or-ELSE Look occasionally.
“We’re all Total House Cats, which is way fun. We get to nap on Daddy, in his big comfy chair, an watch TV, mostly something called sock-er. (I’ve never seen any ackshull socks, just a bunch guys runnin’ around kickin’ a ball.) When I’m not nappin’ on Daddy I’m most comfy flat on my back with all four footies goin’ in all duh-rections. When I do the same thing on my tummy, Daddy calls me Flat Cat. I think Daddy is silly.
“MamaCat is an AR-dist and has lotsa Cool Catnip ar-dist stuff everywhere, which we all agree is lots more fun to play with than Plain Ol’ Toys.
“I speshully enjoy anything crinkly, or those liddle fluffy pompom balls in lotsa colors. I have the Best Time carefully rippin’ open the bag, dumpin’ ’em all out an chasin’ ’em all over the house.
MamaCat loves that, too. I think.
“I’m pretty fast but, cuzza my funny back legs, I can’t jump UP like Bruno, Jasper an Zazu. I can only jump uh-CROSS. PLUS, cuzza my Very Fluffy Footies …”
Max pawsed an lifted a front paw. He wasn’t kiddin’. He had the Fluffiest Footies I’ve Ever Seen. He curled them back under him tummy an continued.
“So, I get goin’ real good, an take off, but when I land I can’t stop. I got no brakes. I just keep slidin’ till I shoot off on the other side. Here, WATCH!”
He climbed up the chair, launched himself onto the table, an went slip-slidin’ all the way across an off, leavin’ a few random AR-dist things in his wake, then plopping unceremoniously onto a chair on the far side.
I stuffed my face into my paw to keep from laughin’ out loud.
He returned an plopped backdown. “It’s kinda fun, ackshully,” he grinned.
I smiled all the way home, thinkin’ about Maxwell Huckleberry an his sibs, safe, warm, happy an ever so silly: a lovin’ Furever Family. An pickshurin’ Max slidin’ across the table on his Very Fluffy Footies.
Till next time,
