This week I continued to broaden my journalistic horizons by doin’ an inter-species interview with a dainty little lady of the feline purr-suasion. (See what I did there?)
CookE Perkins is a Calico Cat from Tennessee, white, gold and black, with green eyes. I knew I was gonna hafta be extra polite and quiet and not make any quick moves cuz CookE’d NEVER met an ackshull dog. Closest she’d come was lookin’ at ’em passing by from her perch by the window.
We knocked. I stood descreetly behind my Assistant. CookE’s Mom opened the door and ushered us in. I got my notebook out and looked around. On the back of the couch was an all-white cat, giving me that Inscrutable Cat Look. I gulped.
“Um, how do you do,” I said in my most un-threatening voice. “I’m Bonzo the Columnist. I’m here to interview CookE.”
“Humpf!” said the cat. “She’s probly under something. She’s real shy, scared of her own shadow, for Garfield’s Sake. I’m Snowball. I’m not a big fan of company, and I’m also not a big fan of dogs.” Then in this big, yowly voice, “COOKEEEE! Get out here! The pooch from the paper’s here!” Snowball jumped off the couch and disappeared. Then I heard a soft little sound coming from the kitchen. I looked, and there was CookE, peeking around the corner.
“You’re kinda big, but ya’ll don’t look too scary,” she said. “Mom says you’re OK and that you’re not gonna chase me or bark or gurrrrrr. Are ya?”
“Absolutely not, Miss CookE. I’m a professional. I’m just gonna ask some questions and write down what you say. Is that OK?”
She sashayed over, swinging her tail. “OK. If you promise not to be bouncy or anything. You’re the first dog ah ever ackshully met in the fur. I’ll just sit over here by mah Mom. Her name’s Rosemary. Mah Dad’s Frank.”
“No worries, Miss CookE. I’d love to hear your story.”
She sat down, curled her tail around her feet and began, softly. “Mah first mem-ries are of bein’ in an Animal Sheltuh with a whole buncha other kittens. It was up in Cookeville, Tennessee. Mah Mom and Dad lived down here (they weren’t mah Mom and Dad yet), and they were visitin’ in Tennessee. Whenever they were up there, they’d visit the Sheltuh, just to browse. See, mah Dad always wanted a Calico Cat. They looked at the cats that were spiffed up and ready to be adopted but The Right Cat wasn’t there. So Dad asked, ‘Is this all the cats?’ The Sheltuh person said yep, ’cept for a buncha kittens that hadn’t been checked in yet. Dad said he’d REALLY, REALLY like to see. So the Sheltuh person showed ’em the Receiving Area and there we all were, a big pile o’ kittens way in the back. Well, Mistah Bonzo, ah dunno what got into me, cuz ah’m kinda shy, but, for some reason, ah made mah way to the front. Mom saw ah was a Calico and she called me, you know, like humans do, ‘Here, kitty, kitty, kitty, like that.’ THEN, Dad picked me up and ah KNEW. So ah nuzzled, an snuggled an tried to look as adorable as possible. Which was, of course, extremely adorable. THEN, guess what, Mistah Bonzo?”
“What?”
“Mom told Dad AH was his birthday present! Can you buhLEAVE it was his ackshull BIRTHday!”
“No Woof!” I exclaimed.
“Ah KNOW. Mom said they hadda have me, no if’s, an’s or but’s. So Mom an Dad went sightseein’ while the Sheltuh got me ready, got mah shots, had the No Kittens Pro-cee-juh, all that stuff. Mom an Dad also got me a littah box, an food, an a carrier for the car. I loved ridin’ in the car, but forget that carrier. Mom held me most o’ the way home.
“First time ah met Snowball, ah was, like, ‘That is one grumpy cat!’ So ah steered clear, but, after a couple days, we were cool. I reckon we’re kinda frien-emies. She mostly just ignores me now. Ah’ll be 3 in April. Ah love zoomin’ around the house. An ah have this little ol’ stuffed dog toy Mom’s friend Pat gave me. It’s all chewed up, but it’s still mah favorite.
“Ah’m a total Daddy’s Girl, too. We have this ritual: we snuggle and ah give Dad little sandpapery kisses an purr real soft. Me an Snowball get Friskies snacks, and sometimes share a can o’ tuna. We ALWAYS hear the sound of the can bein’ opened and we race to the kitchen. Every night, me and Snowball and Mom and Dad have supper togethah.
“I ’specially like hangin’ out on the screen porch. My favorite thing’s watchin’ the little ol’ dragons runnin’ around the yard. Sometimes (don’t ya’ll tell, now) one of ’em gets inside, and we play chase! Ah’ve caught ’em before, too. Ah toss ’em in the air, which is wa-ay fun. Ah don’t eat ’em or anything. Well, one time ah did eat just the tail. It was kinda borin’. Plus, that little ol’ dragon was plenty mad. Gimme tuna any day.
“Oooh, and guess what Mom once did, just for me? She and Dad got a present from my Uncle Bob: a trip to Singapore (which is as far away as you can get. Ah don’t even know how many potty box breaks I’d need). Anyway, they couldn’t find anyone to cat-sit me, and they didn’t want me stayin’ in some cage, so Mom stayed home. Just for ME! Isn’t that So Nice?”
I was enjoying CookE’s story, but it was time to go. “Ya’ll come back now!” she called, as she jumped onto her window perch. Heading home I was picturing annoyed lizards sailing through the air. And feeling honored I was the very first pooch Miss CookE had invited into her home.
Till next time,
The Bonz
