CatDonna's Cats

Hello my lovelies I am back. The keyboard is MINE. The woman was slow of understanding but got the hint after I screamed at her for half an hour and injured her flabby hairless tummy with my trusty t-shirt-destroying claws.

Now I lie on her lap in great contentment and dictate my next great work, while she takes dictation from the moi. As it should be! I dictate. I am dictator. MWAHAHAHAAAA.

Here is a short story that I dedicate to my comrade Millie. Who is he? Tell you later.

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Once upon a time there was a family that lived in a high-rise flat. They lived with two cats, who tolerated their human nonsense and allowed them to take care of menial arrangements like cat food and litter and toys, while the cats took on the really serious issues like post-modern furnishings [the destroyed look... NICE], country-style-and-smell atmospherics, et catera.

This family was called the Stupid family. They came from a faraway country so they had exotic names. The father was a beefy guy called Van Damme [as in Jean-Claude... remember him? Yeah, me neither]. The mother was called Cray Zelda Sith and she was very pretty; she spoke with a cute lisp. Their son was called Smelly, which in their exotic language means He who is handsome and whatever.

The cats were called Cat 1 and Cat 2. I'm too tired to think up more names, k?

This family lived pretty high up [about 10 storeys high] and liked to keep their windows open. Even though Smelly was the kind of toddler who liked to climb. Cats 1 and 2 tried to close the windows for his safety, even frequently jumping out onto the narrow ledge to push the windows shut. But without opposable thumbs there's a heckload of trouble manipulating human objects, and so it never worked.

The cats tried to persuade Father and Mother Stupid to install window grilles.

"But it's too much work," Van Damme whined.

"It thpoils the effect of the thunthhine, and there'th no breeththe," Cray lisped.

"I am SMELLY!" Smelly crowed. He was learning to talk.


Then one day Cat 1 disappeared. Cat 2 was sitting on the window ledge crying "Mrowr?" in a sad voice.

"Where could Cat 1 be?" Cray asked.

"I dunno. Selling sea shells on the sea shore?" Van Damme grumbled [they'd quarrelled the night before].

"Really? You think? Why would he do that I wonder?" Cray wondered as Smelly toddled in after watching cartoons and demanded,

"I WANT TO DRINK TIGER BEER."

Immediately he was ordered to stand in a corner and think of the terrible effects of alcoholism, but this plan was aborted because there was a far more urgent matter at stake... and anyway the room was round.

Days, weeks passed. The frantic Stupids sent out flyers, made public announcements, promised rewards. Nothing.

Desperate, the Stupids called in a cat psychic called Pipperincess. Wearing a black mask and cape that partially covered her lovely white face and body, Pipperincess sauntered in the house and was promptly stepped on by the beefy Van Damme.

"@#$%^&!!!!! OWWWW!!!!!!! Man, you are one damn stupid fellar!!!" Wowww, thought Van Damme. She already knows my name. This lady really is psychic.

Regaining her composure, Pipperincess smiled sweetly at Cray. "And you are...?"

"Cray Thelda Thith." "What?" "Umm, CRAY. THELDA. THITH." "What kinda name is that? What are you, Welsh? Grayskull whatagain?" "Nooo! CRAY! THEE! ETHTHTH!!!!!!!!!!" "Hahahahaha!!! No kidding?! Stop spitting in my face you stupid woman."

The Pipperincess, following a general psychic's rule, doesn't speak to toddlers.

Consulting her catnip crystal ball, Pipperincess quickly fell into a trance-like swoon, twisting and writhing her furry lithe body all across the floor. After the seance was over she got up and dusted herself off. "Cat 1's dead. He fell while closing the window after your son tried to climb out to look for Jessica Alba." Pipperincess glanced over at Cat 2, who hadn't eaten in two weeks and was obviously pining for his buddy. "Maybe you should grille the windows or keep them closed?"

"But it's too much work..."

"It thpoils the effect of the thunthhine, and there'th no breeththe..."

"Whattheheck?! DANG YOU ALL!!!!!!!!" With the strength of an angry black-and-white cat who herself was once neglected and left to die by other Stupid humans, Pipperincess took out her Brokeback Mountain [TM] Special Edition "Twisty Jack" Lasso and tied the Stupids up before throwing them all out the window. The End.

**********

Awww. I love happy endings.

So who's Millie?

Recently, the woman seems to be hearing a lot about cats that fall out of windows and die, or suffer serious injuries. The excuses she hears for the lack of window care include the great effort required, the aesthetic effects, the ventilation, the cat likes it [this one's my favourite] and other similarly Stupid excuses.

The irony is that not all these owners are stupid heartless jerks. Some really do love their cats; they just don't understand that if there's a higher space that promises freedom and adventure, like an open window from the 10th storey, any cat worth his whiskers will jump.

Millie is, apparently, one of the latest victims of these owners' well-meaning ignorance and/or unfortunate neglect.

RIP Millie. And please, dear people, if you really love your cats, grille your doors and windows.


Somewhat Upset Pip