Story 614: When the Cat Takes Over the Christmas Tree

             In a break from my routine of sleeping-eating-napping-eating-resting-playing-eating-sleeping-napping-sleeping-training the servants-sleeping-deeper sleeping-relaxing, the servants have suddenly installed a new object for my entertainment.  At first glance, I thought it was one of those outdoor prey towers – the trunk and needles were a clever ruse – but one whiff revealed the lie.  Whatever it is, it imitates Nature but is in itself Unnatural; the servants may have fooled themselves, but not me.  Never me.  Still – can’t turn down an opportunity to ascend the highest heights, so up I climb….

Parent 1: Honey, have you seen the cat?

Parent 2: Not lately; did you check behind the couch?

Parent 1: Yeah, and also the backs of the closets – nothing.

Parent 2: Well, she couldn’t have gotten out, so just let’s start decorating the Christmas tree and she’ll eventually turn up to play with the tissue paper.

From my strategic position near the top of this so-called “tree”, I observe the servants below adding oddly-shaped items to the branches.  This all seems familiar, although I can’t specifically recall seeing them do this before.  Then again, I can’t specifically recall seeing anything before, so that isn’t too concerning.

Parent 1: Heh, remember this ornament?

Parent 2: Oh yeah, that was from our trip last summer.

Parent 1: …It was three summers ago.

Parent 2: Really?... Oh yeah, I guess it was.  Well, there goes my life.

Little do they know that I wait in the recesses of this tower as they come closer and closer with their baubles – soon, if I am patient, those treasures will be mine.

Parent 2: You think we should leave off some stuff this year?  I feel like we get more and more ornaments but less and less tree.

Parent 1: Nah, that’s a slippery slope: you leave off some ornaments one year, and soon enough it’s entire boxes that sit unopened year after year after year.

Parent 2: I guess, but at some point I start wondering if there are so many that they’re smothering the lights and creating a fire hazard.

Parent 1: That’s a good point…. Remember the bubble lights we had back in the day?  Talk about a hazard.

Parent 2: Yeah, but they were also strangely soothing.

The bipeds have overcome their literal shortcomings by artificially increasing their height with a metal contraption, and are now encroaching onto my territory – the treasures start to invade my space – I must assert my dominance now or be forever oppressed by these creatures –

Parent 1: Aaaaaahhhhh!!!!

Parent 2: Whoa, careful on the ladder!  What happened?!

Parent 1: …I found the cat.

Parent 2: What?  Ohhhhh, how’d you get in there, sweetie?  Here, let me get you out of all that, you widdle sugar plum dumpling baby!  Now, let’s go riiiiiiiight over to your food, and stay out of that big ol’ tree – we wouldn’t want you breaking anything or hurting yourself, would we, cuddle-pie?

Parent 1: Almost gave me a heart attack.  How’d she get all the way up there without us seeing?

Parent 2: Who knows?  They can get in the highest and the tightest spaces without disturbing a thing – I just don’t want her getting stuck in there or knocking stuff off or, perish the thought, knocking the whole tree over.

Parent 1: Ugh, could you imagine the mess?  Definitely would take me out of the holiday spirit having to clean that up.

As I gnaw on these bland rocks they dare to present to me as “food”, I unobtrusively monitor their progress in covering the “tree” with artificial nonsense, and plot my revenge.  Yes – while they sleep – that is when I will summit the monolith and declare my victory over their feeble attempts at usurping my authority.

That star at the top will be the first to go.

Story 575: Sleeping Like a Cat

            (At a kiddie birthday party, a living room is filled with running, screaming children and the few adults designated to supervise their shenanigans when Guest 1 enters)

Guest 1: (Bursting into the room carrying a wrapped gift) HAPPY BIR – oh.  (Freezes upon seeing the chaos and starts to turn back; Guest 2 jumps up from an armchair, grabs Guest 1’s arm with one hand and the gift with the other, and steers the latter into the room)

Guest 2: Great, we need another pair of grown-up eyes here – you can say “Hi” to everyone on the way out – want a plate?

Guest 1: (Gently pushed to sitting on a folding chair, dazed) Uh, yeah, thanks.  (Guest 2 leaves to drop off the gift and fill up a plate of appetizers; Guest 1 looks around trying to figure out what game the kids are playing, then gives up; sees Guest 3 sitting on the nearby couch) Oh, hi there – (Guest 3 looks over) certainly no dozing off while we’re in here, am-I-right?

Guest 3: (Forlornly) If only I could.  (Nods toward a bean bag chair on the edge of the action) See that?

Guest 1: (Double-takes on seeing a cat curled up in the sinking middle of the chair, fast asleep) Aw, I didn’t even notice, how cute!  I always wonder how cats can sleep in the middle of all this racket, you know?

Guest 3: A mystery for the ages.  I only wish I had that power.

Guest 1: What, falling asleep in the center of a virtual hurricane?

Guest 3: Yes.  (A ball whizzes by the both of them) I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in over 30 years.

Guest 1: Wow.  (Thinks for a few moments) Funny, I haven’t really, either.  Too many parties and studying late and working later, now I can’t even fall asleep until way after midnight and by then it’s already tomorrow.

(Both yawn simultaneously)

Guest 3: Ah yes: “To sleep: perchance to”… (Guest 1 waits expectantly) it’s gone.  And I was an English major, too.

Guest 1: Alas.  (The screams increase in volume) That cat has not moved a single muscle since I came in here – should we be worried?

Guest 3: One way to find out.  (Stands and expertly skirts around the hullabaloo to leave the room; the sound of tapping on the cat’s food dish soon follows, and the cat zooms off the chair into the other room) Sorry, no more food yet – just wanted to be sure.  (Guest 3 re-enters the room and sits on the couch again; the cat soon re-enters as well, gracefully weaves through the running bodies, hops back onto the bean bag chair, curls up again, and immediately falls back asleep) Probably could’ve just given a slight tap, but this was more definitive.

Guest 1: I never thought I’d be so jealous of a cat before.

Guest 3: I’m thinking we probably can do the same thing: you should only have to block out all stimuli, and you can sleep through anything.

Guest 1: Huh, is that all?  (Ball bounces off head)

Guest 3: Should be.  I’d try it right now, but my kid’s the guest of honor, so…. (A timer goes off in the kitchen) Aaaaaand that’s the main course, finally.  (Stands) EVERYONE IN THE DINING ROOM NOW!

(Everyone except for Guest 1 and the cat runs out of the room in varying levels of volume)

Guest 1: But I never got my appetizers....

THAT NIGHT

(At Guest 1’s apartment bedroom)

Guest 1: (Wearing pajamas) OK, this is it.  (Flops down on the bed) You can do this – just block out everything.  (Turns out the light and glances at the clock on the bedside table) Yes!  11:53 p.m.  You can do this, champ!  (Curls up into a ball, closes eyes, and starts breathing slowly and regularly until a SLAM! is heard overhead; eyes fly open) Oh no.

Neighbor: (Voice from the upstairs apartment, slightly muffled but voluminous) I told you, and I told you, but you never listen to me!

Guest 1: (Squishes a pillow over face) Oh-no-oh-no-oh-no-

Neighbor: (Accompanied by heavy footsteps and objects being slammed around) Yeah, well, I’d love to go off on sabbatical too, but I have RESPONSIBILITIES!... Don’t you yell at me while I’m yelling at you!

Guest 1: (Flings off the pillow and covers ears tightly) I am the center of the hurricane, I am the center of the –

Neighbor: You bet I’m gonna rehash everything, starting from 15 years ago when you forgot my last name!

Guest 1: Purring!  That must be the secret!  (Tries and fails to purr) Guess I don’t have the right equipment for that.  (Picks up a cell phone, finds a video with pink noise, turns the volume to maximum, plugs in headphones, and settles back with a sigh after one last glance at the phone’s clock) 11:59  That oughta do it.

Neighbor: (Extremely muffled through the pink noise) LA-LA-LA-LA, I CAN’T HEAR YOU!

Guest 1: (Curls up into a ball again, smiling) It’s almost soothing now.

SEVERAL DAYS LATER

(In an office cubicle)

Guest 1: (Typing at a computer and nodding off, then snapping back awake) Whoa, afternoon slump.  (Quirks an eyebrow) Which is a normal part of our circadian rhythm, so who am I to fight it? (Leans back to peer out the cubicle opening, sees no one is approaching, then stretches arms out onto the desk while arching back a bit and crosses them one over the other to rest on them, closing eyes and smacking lips while settling)

Coworker: (Nearby) Auditors coming, everybody!  Finish up your reports and clean your workstations ASAP!

(Sounds of frantic typing, garbage dumping, phone calling, papers flying, coworkers crashing into each other, and emergency meetings being held in the middle of the office fill the entire floor)

Guest 1: (Eyes still closed; mutters softly) I am the center of the hurricane – I am the center of the hurricane – I am ZZZZZZ….

ONE HOUR LATER

Coworker: (Sticks head into the cubicle) What are you doing?!

Guest 1: (Jolts awake, looking around) Huh?  What?

Coworker: We’re all five seconds from getting a thousand citations for noncompliance in everything, and you’re napping?!

Guest 1: I was?...  I was!  It worked, yessss!!!!  (Jumps up and fist pumps for joy)

Coworker: Wow, not even attempting to deny it.

Guest 1: (Stops mid-jump and fist-pump) Ummmm…..

Coworker: I envy you.  (Leaves)

Guest 1: (Whispers to self) It worked, hee-hee!

SEVERAL DAYS LATER

(At a church)

Preacher: Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join….

Guest 1: (Sitting alone at the end of the back pew, mutters) That’s my cue.  (Looks around quickly to make sure everyone else is facing the front, then gently slides down to full-body stretch along the pew before half-twisting back and closing eyes) Center of the hurricane….

………………………………………………………………………………………

Preacher: Excuse me?

Guest 1: (Snaps open eyes to see Preacher standing next to the pew, then swiftly returns to a seated position) Oh – hi – great sermon – happy couple –

Preacher: Yes, perhaps you would like to join them?

Guest 1: (Looks around the now-empty church) Ah.

SEVERAL HOURS LATER

(A wedding videographer weaves through the reception hall’s dance floor, filming as everyone dances the night away)

Spouse 1: (Sees the camera and waves) Hi!  Thank you everyone who could be here today!

Spouse 2: Yeah, you all rock!  We’re all having a great time, wooo!!!!

Dancing Guests: (Raising their arms in agreement) WOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

(The camera pans around the room and zooms in on Guest 1, stretched out face-down across three chairs at an empty table, one arm dangling off the edge and the other stretched back)

Videographer: (Heard mumbling) How on Earth, in the middle of all this racket…?  Oops – remember to edit out time stamp 19:33:07 to 19:33:21.

(The DJ suddenly changes the music from 2020s pop to 1980s hair metal)

Guest 1: (Suddenly rolls off the chairs and lands on hands and feet) Hurricane!  (Stands and looks around quickly, sees everyone in the area still dancing, and casually sits down) That was close – hope I didn’t make it into the video.

SEVERAL DAYS LATER

(At another kiddie birthday party, a living room is filled with running, screaming children and the few adults designated to supervise their shenanigans when Guest 3 enters)

Guest 3: (Quietly sighs on seeing the chaos) Here we go.  (Sits on a chair to passively supervise, then notices Guest 1 curled up in a ball on the nearby couch, back to the world) Interesting.  (Lightly pokes Guest 1’s shoulder)

Guest 1: (Immediately rolls over, stretching fully) Oh, hi there.

Guest 3: Sorry to wake you; I just had to see for myself if it was true.

Guest 1: If what was true?

Guest 3: That at least one of us achieved the power of literal catnapping.

Guest 1: Oh yeah – thanks for the advice, worked like a charm.  (Several previously-hidden cats climb over Guest 1, turn semi-circles, and plop down to be spooned; Guest 1 obliges) Changed my life.

Guest 3: So I see.

Guest 1: Anyway, since this wound up turning out so well, I’m going to go back to…. (Points to the cats and the couch)

Guest 3: By all means.

Guest 1: Sweet.  (Gently rolls with the cats so they all are facing the couch cushions again; none move when a beach ball bounces off Guest 1’s back)

Guest 3: (Staring at the sleepers, brow furrowed in thought) Why do I feel like I’ve been missing out on something important this whole time?

Story 492: Cat Corraller

(Outside a house on a residential street, Homeowner is chatting with Neighbor while holding the front door ajar)

Neighbor: Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for “live-and-let-live,” but if that kid’s moped-thing comes roaring down the street at 2:00 in the morning one more time, well – you’re gonna see some serious finger-wagging coming out of me, let me tell ya.

Homeowner: (Nodding quickly) Sure, OK, thanks for the warning, I’ve just gotta go back – (Turns to go inside when a gray streak flies past both sets of human legs) Oooohhhh, shooooooooooot!!! (Lets the door close and starts running after the blur)

Neighbor: Heh, what was that?

Homeowner: Darn cat got out again – I thought Lil’ Terror was safe in the den for the two minutes I was out here!  (Claps hands at several shaking bushes)

Neighbor: Yeah, they escape anything, those mini-Houdinis

Homeowner: (Dives behind one of the bushes just as Lil’ Terror flees around the corner of the house; pops head up while spitting out leaves) You’re tellin’ me!  (Runs around to the side of the house) Sweetie-pie!  Come back here!

Neighbor: (Following the two around the lawn) Whelp, you’ll never be able catch creatures like that by chasing `em  - they’re much too fast and wily.

Homeowner: (Dives again, almost getting a whisker; Lil’ Terror zooms under another neighbor’s fence) Well, I don’t know what else to do; silly thing’s gonna keep on running and won’t be able to find the way back home, the dolt!

Neighbor: (Takes out a phone and makes a call) Leave it to me: I know someone perfect for the job....

(Within five minutes, a van pulls up to the front curb; the logo on the side reads “Cat Corraller: Professional Feline Herder.”  The uniformed driver emerges carrying a kit, a fishing rod, a carrier, and a butterfly net)

Cat Corraller: (To Neighbor, waiting by the street) You rang?

Neighbor: (As they walk to the side of the house) Yeah: the fur parent’s over there.  (Points to Homeowner who is up a tree “Pspspsps”-ing while leaning over the fence)

Cat Corraller: (To Homeowner while opening the kit) The target’s no longer on your property, then?

Homeowner: (Turns suddenly to Cat Corraller) Huh?  Oh, yeah, Lil’ Terror’s off in the neighbor’s yard, looking for… something that apparently can’t be found here.

Neighbor: No one’s home to open the gate, either – should we break it down?

Cat Corraller: No need.  (Pulls out a package of treats and sets up the butterfly net to receive; gesturing to the treats) These usually do the trick.

Homeowner: Oh right; mine are inside.

Cat Corraller: (Starts shaking the bag of treats loudly) Oh Kitty, what’s this I have in my hands?

Homeowner: (Still up in the tree, peers over the fence again) Yes!  Go to the treats, Lil’ Terror, go!

(A gray streak emerges from under the fence and barrels toward Cat Corraller)

Cat Corraller: Got ya, you little – (The gray streak snatches the bag out of Cat Corraller’s hand and zooms around the corner of the house) Ah.  We’ve got a slippery devil here.

Homeowner: (Climbs down the tree and joins the other two) What just happened?!

Cat Corraller: (Squints thoughtfully in the direction of the gray streak) That, is one who has transcended the evolutionary ladder and is able to outmaneuver interspecies apex opponents.  However – (Opens the kit to retrieve heavy-duty gloves) I do relish a challenge.

(The three humans slowly round the corner of the house and see the cat lying in the middle of the driveway, having ripped open the treat package and devouring the crunchies within)

Cat Corraller: (Whispers to the other two) Right – this is perfect.  We can triangulate the wee pain-in-the-patootie.  (Points to Homeowner) You: approach from the north.  (Points to Neighbor) You: approach from the south.  (Points to self) I: approach from the east.

Homeowner: But what if Lil’ Terror goes west?

Cat Corraller: Then you two go west, too!  Simple geometry!

(The three creep up on the snacking kitty; Lil’ Terror continues eating until the others are a foot away, then instantaneously abandons the bag to dash through the gap in their formation and disappear in a hedgerow as Homeowner and Neighbor dive and miss)

Cat Corraller: That was ineffective triangulation there, folks. 

Homeowner: (Wailing from the ground) We’re trying our best!

Neighbor: Yeah, and by all rights I shouldn’t even have to be doing any of this.

Cat Corraller: No cause to fret: we just need a new plan.

(An hour later, Lil’ Terror strolls back through the hedgerow, sniffs the place in the driveway where the treats are no longer, then strolls onto the empty front yard and stops to nibble on some grass; attention is caught by a twitching cloth sardine that is several feet away.  The cat, licking lips, slowly begins stalking the sardine, body low, ears back, and rear end wriggling.  When Lil’ Terror leaps to pounce, the sardine is snatched away and reeled in across the law toward the house.  The cat runs after the sardine on a fishing wire, which is pulled in through the house’s open front door.  Lil’ Terror runs inside, straight into the arms of Homeowner as Neighbor slams the door shut from the outside.  In the living room, Cat Corraller finishes reeling in the sardine as Homeowner hugs the cat tightly)

Homeowner: Oh you silly, silly baby!  You gave me quite a scare there!

Cat Corraller: (Packing up gear) Aye, they do that to ye.  Here.  (Hands over the cloth sardine to Homeowner; Lil’ Terror starts gnawing it) On the house.  It’s got catnip inside, so it may come in handy for potential future round-ups.

Homeowner: Thank you so much, you’re a life-saver!

Cat Corraller: All in a day’s work.  Here’s also my bill.  (Hands over a large invoice) I took the liberty of writing this up as we lay in ambush.

Homeowner: Oh, right.  (Takes the paper while still holding the cat and scans the line items) This is quite a bit.

Cat Corraller: It was quite a bit of effort.

Homeowner: (Shakes head decisively) No matter – (To Lil’ Terror, now drooling over the sardine) worth every penny, aren’t you, sweetums?  (Back to Cat Corraller) You take a credit card?

Cat Corraller: I prefer cash.

Neighbor: (Entering through the side door) Whew!  That was certainly an exciting afternoon, but I sure am glad it’s all over now!  (A gray streak goes past Neighbor’s legs just before the door closes.  All three stare at the spot for several moments)

Homeowner: (With now-empty arms, hands the invoice back to Cat Corraller) You may want to add a few lines to this.

Cat Corraller: To be expected - `tis the nature of the business.

Story 405: Observations From the Cat Left at Home

My family left me today.

My family actually leave me every day, but this is one of those times I could tell they won’t be back by night.  Or the next day.  Or the – I have no idea what comes after that.

It’s kind of peaceful here now, tranquil, just the way I like it; I can finally do what I want for a change, and not be woken up 15 times mid-exhausting-sleep for an unwanted cuddle.

Still: the lack of diversion is a bit of a drag.  How many times can I kill the scores of fake prey they leave scattered around the place, I ask you?  At least when they summon the flying point of light, it’s somewhat of a challenge for my impressive tracking skills.

The smallest member of the family also keeps things interesting: certainly no telling what that one’s going to do next.

The most pressing issue at the moment, though, is the food situation.  I am embarrassingly dependent upon the giants to supply my daily fuel, so every time they get it into their huge heads to take off to parts unknown, I’m left behind with an uncertain future: if I eat everything in the bowl and no one is there to refill it, is the next step starvation?  Constant conservation is the only way to deal with this, and I have learned to live with the everlasting anxiety.

What’s that?  The front door unlocking?  Quick, off the bed before they catch you there with a “No, no, no!” – gracefully sprint down the hall – perhaps the family came back early –

Oh no.

It’s the other one.

This giant smells like Alpha (I refuse on principle to call her “Mommy” despite her addressing herself as such) so I know she’s from the same litter, and she has encroached on this territory multiple times before.

It’s too late to hide under a bed or in a closet – the intruder has spotted me.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, baaaaaaabyyyyyy!!!!!!”

Ugh.

“How are you?!”  I am scooped up into amateur arms – clearly, this one has not held one of my kind properly, ever.  “Have you been a good little furball?”

Ew.  And of course I’ve been what you arrogantly designate “good,” you imbecile – I don’t have to answer to you!

I’m carried as if I were a helpless kitten into the kitchen; only my disciplined forbearance in this treatment prevents a scene.  “Have you been watching the house while everyone’s gone?  Making sure no one sneaks in, heh-heh-heh?”

My patrols are completed regularly, thank you very much – and isn’t “watching the house” technically your job?!

I finally am released onto the floor, and the giant takes her sweet time getting my food in order.  Never mind that I have been patiently waiting eons past the scheduled delivery time.  Sure, there are plenty of the crunchy pebbles available all day, but refer to my earlier treatise on food conservation; plus, I’ve suffered enough – I want the good stuff.

Blast, I forgot about this part: lately I’d been feeling a little… off, if you will, and after a torture session where Alpha kidnapped me out of the house and allowed some stranger who smelled mainly of DOG to mishandle me terribly, now at every meal I am placed in a bodylock and a tube is shoved into my mouth with some horrific liquid forced down my throat.  I have no choice but to swallow the disgusting concoction under heavy protest and no small amount of humiliation.  After an unfathomable amount of time performing this new, horrendous ritual, I have been feeling a slight improvement from my prior state: I fail to see the connection.

Now the intruder giant upends a bottle, sticks the tube into the bottom for a few seconds, then hugs me in a weak semblance of the hold Alpha uses.  I stretch my patience to the utmost limits in keep still for this one to get her act together, but when she starts trying (emphasis on that last word) to get the tube into my mouth, the uncertainty and inexperience in her conduct push me past my breaking point, instinct takes over, and away I flail: I regret nothing.

“There, there – ” a condescending pat on the head after the damage is done – “such a good kitty.”

If me not rightfully biting your nose after such unprofessional behavior constitutes as being “good,” then I am the best who ever lived – your pathetic affirmation is unnecessary and undesired.

After another indignity in my face being wiped with a damp cloth – I can groom myself, you know, and much better than this fumbling approximation – the goods are finally delivered and the chicken-like soft mass appears in my dish.

“What an appetite!  You must be hungry!”

Well of course I’m – !  When one is not given vital sustenance until ages after their body is accustomed to receiving it, then one, logically, is hungry.  You can stop talking now.

The intruder disappears somewhere while I embrace the meal – my waste depository better be emptied by the time I get there, is all I’m saying – and my subsequent bath is rudely interrupted because she’s decided she’s been here long enough and the supposed burden of my care can now wait until tomorrow to resume.

A few more ingratiating rubs to my ears, chin, back, mmmmmm....

“Bye-bye, baby!  Watch the house!”

For the love of –

The door is slammed and locked.

The lone outside light does nothing for the increasingly darkening interior.  Fine by me: the giants blast way too much fake sun in here anyway.  It’s a relief that my eyes don’t have to adjust to the incessant glare for the nonce.

Time for a brief nap, then evening patrol, a little snack, nap, overnight patrol, do battle with that cricket in the corner again, a little snack, dawn patrol, nap, and –

The door unlocks and bursts open: “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, baaaaaaabyyyyyy!!!!!!  Did you watch the house?!”

Sigh.  My life is an unending trial.

When my family finally bestir themselves to return home I’m certainly going to give them an earful, right before we curl up on the couch together so they can watch the glowing noisy screen and we all fall into a blissful slumber.

Oh yes, they will pay for this dearly.

Story 390: Living With The Giant Ball of Fur

 My life is ruled by The Giant Ball of Fur.

It is there when I wake in the morning.

It is there when I sleep at night.

The very air is saturated with it – I believe a fine layer coats the inside of my lungs.

Every article of clothing I own bears its traces.

On top of the dust, every piece of furniture in my home is covered with it.

The Giant Ball of Fur consumes my life.

It has even consumed the bathtub.

At 3:00 in the morning, The Giant Ball of Fur noisily swarms the bedroom, destroying the blankets and invading my face.

After vacuuming and sweeping the floors for hours, The Giant Ball of Fur reclaims its territory with a vengeance.

I express my displeasure; The Giant Ball of Fur rolls on its merry way, unaffected by the destruction in its wake.

After a rough day, The Giant Ball of Fur surges onto my lap and smothers me with affection.

There is no resistance – The Giant Ball of Fur has won.

Story 241: Hoping for a Home

         Friend 1: I’m telling you, pretty much all of them are harmless.  Sometimes a little over-enthusiastic, but harmless.

            Friend 2: OK, I guess – this is my first time doing this, so I’m a little nervous.

            Friend 1: Just stick by me and follow my lead.  Ooh, here’s one coming right for you, don’t be shy!

            Friend 2: I – I – I just can’t, I’m sorry!

            Friend 1: It’s OK, I’ll handle this one.

            Visitor 1: Aren’t you a pretty kitty, yes you are!  (Holds out hand)

            Friend 1: (Sniffs fingers) Hm, not a serious customer.

            Friend 2: (Hanging back in a corner) How can you tell?

          Friend 1: I smell cat all over her – doubtful she’d bring a stranger into the fold, especially living with one that old.  Still, she’s a friend of our kind.  (Rubs head against Visitor 1’s hand)

            Visitor 1: Aw, look, she likes me!

            Visitor 2: Don’t even think about bringing her home, young lady.

            (Friend 1 looks knowingly at Friend 2 while purring enthusiastically; Visitor 1 moves on)

            Friend 1: (Trots over to Friend 2 and bats around a toy mouse) See?  Some of them just want to cuddle and then grab a snack in the café, but the more you circulate around here the better your chances one will take you home.

            Friend 2: (Jumps to a high ledge on the wall and settles down) I don’t know, what if we seem to hit it off but then it turns out we’re incompatible?  I miss my old home, and at least here I know everybody.

            Friend 1: Not for long, pal – none of us plan on staying here long-term.  (There is activity on the other side of the room) Case in point: looks like McFluffy’s got herself a new family.  Way to go, McFluff!

            Friend 2: Aw, and I liked her – we bonded because her human had gotten sick, too.  At least I still have you.

            Friend 1: (Rubbing against Visitor 3’s legs) Don’t count on it: I intend to be whisked away to my new forever home by someone halfway decent within the next few weeks if I have to lie to do it.

            Friend 2: What, by pretending to be a lap cat or something?

            Friend 1: If that’s what it takes.  Come on down, you’ll never get adopted if you stay up there!

           Friend 2: Oh, all right.  (Leaps down to the floor and is immediately approached by Visitor 3, abandoning Friend 1 in mid-rub)

            Friend 1: Hey!  Tease.

            Visitor 3: Hi there, little guy.  (Holds out hand, knuckles first)

            Friend 2: Here goes.  (Sniffs) Smells all right.

            Friend 1: Go on, introduce yourself.

           Friend 2: Oh boy.  (Rubs head against Visitor 3’s hand, then lightly nips) Sorry, I’m sorry!  I don’t know what came over me!

            Visitor 3: (Laughs) Ooh, feisty!  I can take a hint.  (Moves on)

            Friend 2: Aw, I ruined it!  (Flops onto a cat bed and sighs)

           Friend 1: (Scratching a post) Don’t beat yourself up over it; happens to the best of us, that’s why they sign a waiver.  Try taking a nap in the condo by the front window – the humans’ll see you first as they come in and maybe they’ll look for you later.

           Friend 2: I don’t know, that feels self-exploitative.  (Looks around) Maybe I should go meet that family who just walked in; they seem nice.

            Friend 1: (Stretched out on the floor, being given a belly rub) Go get `em, tiger!

https://www.catsburypark.com/