A morsel from FingerNale Tales!
Indeed, it is a cat’s life!
The cat has no name she is aware of.
She sleeps
most of her days away curled up and silent, and most of her nights too.
Occasionally she stretches, and enjoys the attention it brings her.
When she
chooses her place of slumber, it’s best to leave her in peace.
Sometimes she
hears a sound and it’s familiar to her, a sound often repeated, but she can’t
duplicate it, for it has no meaning to her other than that sense of
familiarity.
She knows this
word heralds a summons for her presence. She sits up from her slumber and
listens briefly and then chooses whether to answer that command or not, for she is in control of her fate, not
another.
The cat is
queen of her domain.
There is
another sound, a strange sibilance that serves to prick her ears a bit, and
this one she is more likely to answer to. It usually heralds a tin opening or a
pouch rustling – not that she makes those kinds of distinctions. Tin, pouch,
pish. The hiss is about food. She is ever hungry, but most often she’s too lazy
to hunt. She thus waits for that sound and then meanders to the place where she
knows an offering will be made to her.
She may purr
her appreciation; most often she merely lowers her furry nose to smell … and
eat. If it’s particularly tasty, she may deign to purr after.
When her
stomach reveals the sibilant sound is overdue, she isn’t afraid of making her
displeasure known with an ear-piercing question to her supplicant. Generally
this serves to have her offering granted, but sometimes she needs to swirl
around strangely warm posts in motion to garner the necessary attention.
She isn’t
happy doing this, and yet it is a better choice than abandoning her comfort
zone in order to hunt up something usually unpalatable to appease her stomach.
The cat knows
she is lazy … except when it comes to birds. She’ll chase those feathers, yes,
despite what you think of that.
She is a
loner, but occasionally she feels the need to connect with a different warmth,
and she will then cuddle up to receive a wonderful massage, and those hard to
reach areas upon her queenly body will accept a delightful scratch. Ah!
Do not make
the mistake in thinking she lowers herself to another’s level; know this is a
gift she bestows. A queenly gift of great value it is to touch her royalness.
Other felines
in her comfort zone are unwelcome, although she may deign to accept them as
long as they keep their distance.
Please be
aware she will throw the grit from her toilet in your face if you do not keep
it clean for her. She is always finicky about cleanliness. She may even leave a
donation in an inconvenient place, for you to be made aware of her displeasure.
She is happy
sleeping and receiving her offerings. She accepts a royal massage as her due.
She prefers her own company and enjoys a private place to purge her royal inner
self of unwanted material.
Do not mess
with her or she will leave you without a second thought.
All hail Queen
Cat.
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