if they ever come up
for sale, I will be in the front row at the auction.
THE
STALKER
I have this plan all worked out on how to get her, you know. I am just going
to hang around outside her apartment building and wait for her. When the time
is right, I'll make her mine.
She is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Not a quite a beauty in the
conventional sense…but her sweetness and goodness shines in her smile and
there is no one who cannot respond to her. When one sees that genuinely warm
smile and those sparkling blue eyes, one is immediately captivated. It's her
spirit -- her love of life that makes her beautiful. And she doesn't even know
how special she is.
But I do. And so does her boyfriend. He guards her like she is a priceless
treasure…because she is.
Here she comes.
I "accidentally" get in her way so she'll bump into me, and she
pauses.
But her boyfriend says, "Let's go," and pulls her away before I can
sink my claws into her (metaphorically speaking, of course), while she
protests.
I think the boyfriend just might be on to me.
This lady is kind and caring. I can tell.
It's not easy being homeless; when people bump into me they usually just yell
at me. Her boyfriend gives me suspicious looks, but not her. She just looks
concerned when I get in her way. She is such a wonderful find…I must make
her mine.
Oh yes. The conditions are perfect for my plan. It's cold and rainy and
miserable, and she's heading for the door. I stand in her way and shiver
pathetically, looking at her.
I can see her waver, I knew she was softhearted.
I give her the final touch--I meow as pitifully as I can.
Yes! Victory! She's scooping me up and tucking me under her coat. I'm purring
so loudly I think I'm going to vibrate the building down.
She carries me inside and the doorman gives her a dirty look. "He's cold
and wet," she mutters apologetically, and the doorman is immediately a
co-conspirator. I should have known he'd be besotted, too. I have that ability
you know.
Yes! Yes! She's opening me a can of caviar; the good kind. Boyfriend is
protesting and I'm purring even louder, not that I thought that was possible.
She chides him and laughs at me, gently. "You're easy to please,"
she teases. You have no idea. Scratch my chin and I'll roll over and spread 'em
like a ten-dollar whore. What the heck, I'm fixed; I'll get my thrills any way
I still can.
I've used up my ninth life and gone to cat heaven, I swear.
"That cat's been stalking you for months!" her boyfriend accuses.
I look up innocently, then segue into my best "Who me?? I'm a poor
homeless kitty" routine.
He's not buying it.
I decide that the "My human doesn't feed me and he beats me, too,"
routine would probably be over-kill and instead wash my face vigorously. We
learned during the Victorian age that was the answer to anything. It roughly
translates to, "Well at least I'm clean!"
"She's just a harmless kitten," she protests.
"That's what it wants you to think," he scoffs. "Cats are
ruthless predators. What's worse, they know they're cute and work it."
"Tell me you're not jealous of this cute little kittycat," she
challenges. I look up at him winningly, right on cue, and rub up against his
legs, deliberately leaving a thick coat of shed hair on his pant leg. This one
is particular about his clothes…he isn't going to be happy with that!
"It's only interested in food and comfy chairs, probably getting bugs and
hair all over the place"
I wash my butt vigorously.
He is just jealous 'cause I get to stay and he doesn't. I saw the long,
envious look he sent me as he headed for the door.
Tough luck, pal. You snooze, you lose. She's mine, all mine.
I trot around behind her, watching her undress and perform her own nighttime
face and teeth grooming rituals. Then she climbs into bed and rolls over onto
her side. I hop up and tuck myself under her arm, purring and rubbing my head
against her.
Marking her as MINE.
"Subtle," she observes, kissing me on the head. I just purr. Oh
yeah…I just hit the jackpot! The mother-lode. Heaven is all mine!
Suddenly there's a loud banging on the door.
It's him again. I can't believe she is letting him in. Told you she was a soft
touch.
What was that?! He meowed?
He's stealing my act! I can't believe it! That... that... that... COPYDOG!
"What are you doing?" She asks uncertainly. That's right, don't let
him get to you.
He meows again.
Pitifully, I might add. He sounds more like a dog in heat.
"Okay, maybe you should sleep on my couch." She finally says, at a
loss to figure out what he is up to.
When he comes up and rubs his face on her shoulder. I stifle the urge to shred
him on the spot. I marked her first…she's MINE.
I plan to take a whiz on his spiffy red coat as soon as he takes it off. Copy
dog!
"Ok, you're freaking me out with this" she says.
"It worked for the mangy feline," he replies, grabbing her and
kissing her hard.
Hey! That's My human! Mine!
Maybe I won't wait for him to take the coat off...
She is kissing him back. Oh, you can't be serious!
I growl, ominously, and do they pay any attention? No, they go into the
bedroom and shut the door! I deliberately shove a large book onto the floor,
where it lands with a loud thud. They ignore me.
Copydog.
There are human mating sounds coming from the bedroom, and I reach up and
deliberately shred the sofa in a fit of pique.
Afterwards, there are quiet voices, and then laughter. She gets up and goes
into the kitchen, and heads back to the bedroom with what looks like
cream…not in the form I like, but I am willing to accept their peace
offering. I jump up and interpose my body between them.
"So, have you named this thing yet?" he asks, scratching my ears.
OhYeah, like that's going to make me forgive you, pal. You're going to have to
do a lot better! I am thinking pawn shrimp, more of that caviar…
"No, she hasn't told me her name yet, for some reason," My lady
comments reaching over to pet me.
That's because I am a HE! <Sigh> These humans. One wonders where they
would be without cats around to show them the way. It was a cat who showed
them how to make fire, you know.
He is looking at me thoughtfully. "Have you considered 'Demon'?" he
asks, scratching my chin.
Hey! I like it!
"I'm not naming my cat 'Demon'!" She protests with endearing
indignation. Ahhhhhh, my lady is so cute!
Maybe he is not that bad after all. He sure gives a good scratch. Maybe, just
maybe, if he works for it, I might be able to tolerate his presence. We'll
see, but only if he keeps scratching my chin there. Ohhhhhhh, yes.
Hey, did I tell you could stop and kiss her? Maybe a little pointed tap with
my claws.
Thank you for remembering me here in the middle.
Yes, as long as everyone remembers who's in charge, this should work out just
fine.
~ Finis ~