This week I ventured back into the mysterious realm of the fee-line. However, this time it wasn’t mysterious. (Ackshully, it felt more like I was woofin’ with a fellow poocheroo.)
Patches Waldo Olsen is mostly white with dapper black swoops, gold eyes an what humans would consider a TRAY boop-able nose, born an raised (an now works as a Greeter) at Waldo’s, a cool-kibbles place on the beach.
Me an my assistant were greeted at the Big Ol’ Wood Front Door of this Big Ol’ Wood Buildin’ by a nice man who led us around to a padio with chairs. Patches was sittin’ under one of ’em. He strolled over, executed a brief Sniff-an-Size-Up, then looked up into my face with big smile.
Forgoing the usual Wag-an-Sniff (as I always did in the presence of a fee-line), I stood still an said in my softest voice, “Good morning! Patches, I pruh-zoom? I’m Bonzo. This is my assistant. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Hey, back atcha! It’s OK to call you Bonz, right? I’m not big on formality. We’re all frens here. This is my Dad, Lee. He’s Boss! My kitty mama an sibs are around somewhere, stayin’ outta the heat! So, Dad says you wanna know my story, like where I came from, stuff like that?”
“Absolutely, Patches!” I replied, totally suh-prized an super excited he was so frenly an outgoing. “I know you have an interesting tail to tell!”
“Well, I AM from a long line of Waldo’s cats, so I guess I inherited the gift of Tall Tails, if ya know what I mean.”
I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t wait to find out.
“Now,” Patches continued, “make yourselves comfy – out here on the padio, of course: See, we, as animals, are Totally Not Allowed Inside cuz in there is what’s called a REST-runt, where humans get foodstuffs, an there are lotsa Very Important ROOLS!”
“I hear ya,” I replied. “The padio’s fine. So, I understand you were ackshully born here.”
“Yep. Our kitty mama, Shadow, showed up one Dark-an-Stormy-Night 8 years ago. She was preg-nut. An scared. Dad an the staff finally convinced her they were Frens, an fixed a comfy spot under the bandstand (he pointed) an she had us. Eight of us. The others got ’dopted. (My sister Emily has health ish-yous so she lives with Dad). Now there’s me, my brother Tonto, my sister Baby an our Mama. We all work as Greeters. We were gonna be Mousers, too, but when we ree-lized what that ackshully in-TAILED, we decided, um, NAW. We don’t THINK so. I mean, the very thought …. you know what I’m sayin’?”
I did. I nodded an tried not to visualize. Then I remembered to ask, “You mentioned comin’ from a long line of Waldo’s cats. An Tall Tails. What’s that about?”
“Well, see, Waldo was this amazin’ human, who built a buncha amazin’ buildings around town (like this one) and had, like, zillions of amazin’ thots an ideas, an traveled all over the Whole World and brought back all this Cool Catnip stuff to put in his buildings. An he always had lotsa pets: cats (an maybe a few dogs). He loved ’em! So, even though he’s in Heaven now, us cats still get to be here to, you know, carry on the truh-DISH-un.”
“That is SO Cool Kibbles! Or, um, Cool Catnip, I buh-leeve, you say. I bet you meet some really interesting humans.”
“True dat! People come from all over. They like to scritch our ears an give us treats. When the Time Share people go back home, lotsa times they leave us bags of food. We speshully like the liddle kid visitors. When they’re up in their rooms looking down on us getting our breakfast or supper on the padio they get all excited an rush down to help Jordan feed us.
Liddle humans are way Cool Catnip.”
“Who’s Jordan?”
“Jordan’s The Best! He’s on Staff an also our caretaker. He makes sure we always have foodstuffs an plenty of water. Even when he’s off, he comes in to be sure we’re OK. Dad calls him our Cat Whisperer.
“Of course, we listen to Dad, too. He totally loves us. But he’s Really Strict. Like, for example: We always haff to wait patiently outside while our breakfast and supper are bein’ pruh-pared. On rare occasions we (well, full disclosure, usually me) try to sneak in to get a head start. WELL, Dad somehow ALWAYS KNOWS, an here he comes, stompin’ around the corner from the kitchen, an I go flyin’ back out the door. Honestly, Bonz, I can’t figure out how he does it. I mean, I creep in on, you know, the world famous Liddle Cat Feet, quiet as the FOG, for Garfield’s Sake, an he STILL knows.”
“I hear ya,” I sympathized. “My humans can do that, too. So, I bet you’ve had some advenchurs, livin’ here on the beach an all.”
“Oh, totally. When we were all liddle kittens, we often fell into pool. Mostly Emily. She’d lean over to get a liddle drink, an PLOP, right in. But buh-fore Dad could get to her, in about a nano second she, like, flew outta the pool an hid under a tree. See (he leaned in closer), cats can asckshully walk on toppa the water, cuz our fluffy feet and toe pads are like floatees. But don’t tell, OK.”
“Umm, OK. Won’t say a word.” I look at him askance.
“An this other time, a buncha of baby turtles were headed the wrong way outta their nest cuz some human doof had this big ol’ light on, so us four gotta BIG flashlight outta Dad’s Stuff Drawer and led them down to the ocean with it. WE got a thank-you note from the Mama turtle the followin’ week.”
“Woof! You sure have some Fascinatin’ Tails to Tell!”
He smiled a large smile. “Well, I’m from a long line of Waldo’s cats. WE knew what to do.
An Waldo always said, ‘I’d rather be a Liar than a Bore.’”
I was laughin’ at Patches’ stories an Tall Tails the entire way home.
Till next time,
