The Trouble With Cupid
Meowie Wowie! One of my fans – the one who every so often invades my castle (that is, the clinic here) with that big, dumb, Pretender of a Coon Cat in tow, showed up with a big baggie of what she said was Catman’s primo dried catnip from his summer garden. She said her big dopey excuse for a cat said she could give it to me as a Valentine’s Day gift – but I don’t believe he actually said that. It sounded to me like she was trying to distract me so I wouldn’t notice that the Pretender was with her, touching my
counter and hovering over my basket, and taking some of my servants’ – uh, that is, the highly-trained veterinary staff here – time and attention away from ME. But I got an excellent pinch of the catnip on my counter while her dumb cat was out back with The Enforcer.
It’s bad enough that Ms. Bossypants has all sorts of ideas about what I can and can’t eat and whether or not I can store my tool and an extra bag of Greenies in my cat bed. If it were just Ms. Bossypants, when she was out of the room I could pretty much sweetly purr and sashay my way around the other ladies and get what I want; but The Enforcer is tough. As soon as she saw it, she snatched that baggie up so fast I barely saw it go. That servant’s fast – I didn’t even have time to pounce!
OK, I admit I was a little off my game, having just snuffed and nibbled a fairly large pinch, and almost fell off the counter as I got happy and rolled in it. The Enforcer hauled it off out back somewhere, but I saw her snag a little of it for herself. She says it’s for her cat at home, but I know better – I think she slips it into her lunch. There are days when she seems a little --- let’s say “dreamy” --- after lunch.
I think she was a prison guard in an earlier life. Maybe in a zoo.
Sigh. That was a Valentine’s gift, for me! I should be able to decide for myself how fast I consume gifts my fans bring me!
I did notice a little pinch of the catnip ended up in my basket, but not nearly enough. How do these servants of mine expect me to entertain myself at night when they’ve gone home if they don’t leave the catnip out? You’d think they think I’ll shred their paperwork or something if I over-indulge. I won’t, I promise. Really. You can trust me.
“Hunt for mousies,” Ms. Bossypants says. “That’s your job.” And then the New Guy pipes up, “Yeah Lou. Everyone’s got to pull their weight. And you have plenty of it!”
Ha, ha, New Guy. He has dogs. Dog guys are just so – so – so- woofie, if you know what I mean. Wait, what’s that? I think I see the baggie on the counter out back! If I pretend I haven’t seen it, and the sweet ladies don’t tell on me, I should be able to snag it back when The Enforcer isn’t looking. Purr, purr, purr, sweet ladies – I’m not talking to you, Enforcer! Someone confuse her while I sneak back there and grab the goods!
In the meantime, I’m duding myself up handsomely so that all my fans will see how appreciative I am when they bring me more Valentine’s gifts. I am soooo handsome in my red velvet bow tie. You can pile your offerings in my basket, or on my bed. If it’s food, just don’t let Ms Bossypants or The Enforcer see you do it.
And watch out for that annoying little winged bug with the sharp poker talon that shows up around Valentine’s Day. Last year I swatted at it and nearly caught it, but it pricked me with its talon and next thing I knew, I was lying on The Enforcer’s computer keyboard and gazing up at her adoringly.
(PS. Tough as she is, I do kind of admire that in a gal.
Don’t tell her I said so. Purr. Purr.)