Here's a short-short story I wrote a year or two ago. I can't quite remember the circumstances behind it, but it was just a simple little sketch. One of many stories I've done involving cats in some way. Not extensively edited, and probably not one I'll send out to magazines or anything... just a glimpse into a moment.
* * *
Twerk & Purrt
* * *
Twerk greeted her at the door. Somehow, he knew she was coming. He was elderly now, but as soon as she walked through the door of her parents house, he poised himself to pounce on her toes as he did when he was in his youth. Her parents still held the rule of removing your shoes in the entry, so she removed her boots. As soon as her left foot touched the floor, Twerk pounced. Apparently no one has trimmed his claws lately. Sharp as needles, his claws dug into her toes and fleshy feet deeper and deeper. Maybe he dug this deep because he missed her. Maybe it was his way of reminding her to not go away so long next time. Maybe he's just forgotten how sharp his claws really are. And how much they can hurt. Especially to poor, defenseless toes.
He retracted his claws, sat down on the tile, and cleaned his own toes. As if he'd just caught an antelope, devoured it and was washing up after supper.
"My miniature lion," Annie said, as she leaned down to pet the fastidious cat. Annie peered into the living room to find the oversized fake Christmas tree all decked out in red and gold; sitting, as always, in the bay window. It was the day before Christmas, so no one was up early to ransack the packages under the tree. She quietly placed her cloth sack of gifts on the ottoman and began removing them to place under the tree. As she set the first box, for her father, under a plastic bough, a rustling of paper, plastic, and glass ornaments caught her attention. She reached in to investigate, puling a branch aside.
MRAAOWW!! Claws extended toward her face from an airborne ball of black fur. Annie fell on her back from surprise, knocking the wind out of her. When she opened her eyes again, she found a petite, pitch black, green-eyed female cat sitting on her chest, licking her toes as if she'd participated in Twerk's antelope kill.
"I see you've met Purrt." A voice came from the foyer. Annie looked up to see her father, upside down. She rolled over, making Purrt jump off for fear of being squished by the strange human.
"When did you get her? She's obviously been here long enough to learn some of Twerks' moves."
"Six months ago. She's not even a year yet. Where was she hiding?"
"The tree."
Her father smiled, "Ahh, yes. She's nearly knocked it over twice now. When we take it down, we'll have to make sure she's locked away in another room so we don't pack her with it."
Annie smiled, got up, brushed herself off and walked over to her father, "I'm sorry Iâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]ve been gone so long. Next time, it won't be a decade. Maybe only four years."
"Two years and we have a deal," Her father thrust out his hand, expecting a shake to close the deal. Twerk eyed Purrt suspiciously as the ebony kitten whacked an ornament off the tree.
"Three," Annie countered. Her father narrowed his eyes in uncertainty, starting to withdraw his hand. Annie read the body language, "and I'll call more often. Like maybe once a month," putting her hand out to shake, if he agreed. Purrt walked away from the shiny ornament and walked up to Twerk, batting him on the nose. Twerk reminded Purrt again who the boss was and gave her a sound whap across the head. Purrt decided this was play, so the two cats began to wrestle.
Richard Busby agreed and shook her hand. "Now, how about breakfast? You hungry? If we get something started, we'll get everyone else moving. It's only six in the morning."
Purrt and Twerk froze in the middle of their wrestling match, looking up at the humans. They knew where the humans were headed at this hour, and that meant bacon. They joined forces and followed the father and daughter pair into the kitchen.
*\t*\t*\t*\t*
* * *
Twerk & Purrt
* * *
Twerk greeted her at the door. Somehow, he knew she was coming. He was elderly now, but as soon as she walked through the door of her parents house, he poised himself to pounce on her toes as he did when he was in his youth. Her parents still held the rule of removing your shoes in the entry, so she removed her boots. As soon as her left foot touched the floor, Twerk pounced. Apparently no one has trimmed his claws lately. Sharp as needles, his claws dug into her toes and fleshy feet deeper and deeper. Maybe he dug this deep because he missed her. Maybe it was his way of reminding her to not go away so long next time. Maybe he's just forgotten how sharp his claws really are. And how much they can hurt. Especially to poor, defenseless toes.
He retracted his claws, sat down on the tile, and cleaned his own toes. As if he'd just caught an antelope, devoured it and was washing up after supper.
"My miniature lion," Annie said, as she leaned down to pet the fastidious cat. Annie peered into the living room to find the oversized fake Christmas tree all decked out in red and gold; sitting, as always, in the bay window. It was the day before Christmas, so no one was up early to ransack the packages under the tree. She quietly placed her cloth sack of gifts on the ottoman and began removing them to place under the tree. As she set the first box, for her father, under a plastic bough, a rustling of paper, plastic, and glass ornaments caught her attention. She reached in to investigate, puling a branch aside.
MRAAOWW!! Claws extended toward her face from an airborne ball of black fur. Annie fell on her back from surprise, knocking the wind out of her. When she opened her eyes again, she found a petite, pitch black, green-eyed female cat sitting on her chest, licking her toes as if she'd participated in Twerk's antelope kill.
"I see you've met Purrt." A voice came from the foyer. Annie looked up to see her father, upside down. She rolled over, making Purrt jump off for fear of being squished by the strange human.
"When did you get her? She's obviously been here long enough to learn some of Twerks' moves."
"Six months ago. She's not even a year yet. Where was she hiding?"
"The tree."
Her father smiled, "Ahh, yes. She's nearly knocked it over twice now. When we take it down, we'll have to make sure she's locked away in another room so we don't pack her with it."
Annie smiled, got up, brushed herself off and walked over to her father, "I'm sorry Iâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]ve been gone so long. Next time, it won't be a decade. Maybe only four years."
"Two years and we have a deal," Her father thrust out his hand, expecting a shake to close the deal. Twerk eyed Purrt suspiciously as the ebony kitten whacked an ornament off the tree.
"Three," Annie countered. Her father narrowed his eyes in uncertainty, starting to withdraw his hand. Annie read the body language, "and I'll call more often. Like maybe once a month," putting her hand out to shake, if he agreed. Purrt walked away from the shiny ornament and walked up to Twerk, batting him on the nose. Twerk reminded Purrt again who the boss was and gave her a sound whap across the head. Purrt decided this was play, so the two cats began to wrestle.
Richard Busby agreed and shook her hand. "Now, how about breakfast? You hungry? If we get something started, we'll get everyone else moving. It's only six in the morning."
Purrt and Twerk froze in the middle of their wrestling match, looking up at the humans. They knew where the humans were headed at this hour, and that meant bacon. They joined forces and followed the father and daughter pair into the kitchen.
*\t*\t*\t*\t*
