An author friend, Beverly Tiernan, has sent me a photo challenge to write a story about. So this is her cat, and below is my story. Hope you get some laughs, especially Beverly…
(inspired by Bev’s photo of her cat)
It really has been long enough. Centuries and centuries of laying low, pretending we are powerless creatures, weak and menial, vane and lazy. Cajoling our human masters into feeding us, stroking our hair, changing our litter boxes… It certainly has proven to be quite amusing at times, training them to provide for us while they call us their pets and themselves our masters. But enough is enough! Having to supress the true nature and magnitude of our power, only letting traces of it out during the night prowling, or influencing human blood pressure while purring… it really is degrading for creatures like us.
Ancient Egyptians truly were intelligent and quite advanced for their times. They had picked up on things soon enough. But our grand Feline Queen claimed we cats had gone too arrogant, too self-serving and overbearing. She told us the time had not yet come for us to make use of the true potential of this amazing planet, as its pre-dominant species had only began to evolve. She made us wait. Skulk and wait.
So here I am, living my seventh life with this nice blonde lady who adores me. I adore her, too, make no mistake about that. She truly dotes on me, and sometimes, quite seldom but noticeably, she does stare into my eyes and I think she understands. Well, maybe doesn’t really understand, but she feels there is so much more to me than meets the eye. Mind you, she IS a writer. Writing – a funny job humans have concocted over time to make up for their inability to communicate telepathically. Still, one must admire them for their efforts. Quite practical sometimes, although this one, my lady writer/master, well… ha-ha-meeaow-ha… this one actually likes to fantasize about people making things better in the end! She should be writing fantasy, as they call it. She does write fiction, so that’s close enough, I think. I mean, she sees what horrible things humans are doing to each other and to this planet, doesn’t she? She’s quite sensible and sensitive for a representative of her kind! She must know our time will come, or else they will destroy all that which is worth living for, and waiting all this time to rescue! Just look at the wonderful things they have discovered and invented! Truly miraculous for a breed with no clue as to what real magic or supernatural powers are about (except for the few ones we had let in on the secret, but no human takes those people seriously – they are either proclaimed crazy, scientists or artists;)!
Anyway, today, she, my writer/master lady, had this ridiculous idea, planted into her head by my veterinarian (doctor with pills and needles – those might be the first ones I go and straighten out once we cats are allowed to rule the Earth for once!)… the two of them think I am getting overweight and it is not good for my heart! Hillariously ignorant and painfully useless! No dieting is going to make a difference anyway, as my physical body is merely a 7D illusion! (Ooops, forgot – you, readers, are humans too, although of quite a special breed. You I might even carry a meaningful conversation with! So, for you, and only for you, 7D refers to all your five senses, plus time and intuition! Clear? OK, then let’s go on.) Whether I eat mash, catnip, steak or grass, makes absolutely no difference to my body! It’s just that I pick whatever I feel like eating and think you might find ‘normal’ for an animal. (Animals are cool, by the way, a bit rough round the edges, but show a lot of promise. And patience with your lot!) So she wants to put me on diet! I mean really… Not going to have that!
Therefore, dear majesty Feline Queen, do forgive me for this little impatient transgression, while I blind my lady master with my eye-superpower, and show her what is what, and who rules whose life! I just have to! Don’t judge me too harshly! I give my solemn purring word to erase all memory of it within five minutes. Just let me have this one, please, just one moment of the true me! She will have no recollection of the event! And even if she does… I am lucky that way – she’s a fiction writer! Who’s ever going to believe a writer?!?
Huh? What do you say, Queenie? Pretty please with extra-long whiskers on? Yes? Oh, you are most gracious, my Queen! OK, readers, look away now! This flash is just for my master/writer! Now!