Shhh.
I don’t know why everyone’s yelling anyway. What’s happened to civility? What’s happened to quiet enjoyment? What’s happened to someone bringing me coffee and showing my hangover the respect it deserves?
Shhh.
For those of you who have yet to note this day on your calendars, yesterday was Liza Bean Bitey’s birthday.
That’s Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys): small-pawed defeater of mice, demander of cream, symmetrically striped bed hog.
As in previous years, we marked the occasion with a bit of celebration; and I am pleased to announce that, this time, we managed to keep the police out of it.
“I just adore a good gin and tonic, don’t you?”
I don’t know what it is about cats and gin, but it seems every cat I’ve ever known drinks gin and tonics.
Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys) is in excellent form tonight. Resplendent in her “dress” collar – the black velvet one with the rhinestone mousies – she leans back expansively, holding court in the corner booth.
The waitress returns again and again, telling jokes, checking our drinks. Cats are notoriously heavy tippers; and while often technically under the legal drinking age – and never in possession of proper identification – the best bars turn a blind eye to the legalities.
The door opens. A lone man walks in – and hot on his heels, four cats shoot in.
Cats.
They’ve been coming in, three and four at a time. Keeping to the edges of the room, casting fuzzy, nebulous shadows, leaping to the bar and ordering yet more gin and tonics, the corner booth is soon crawling with patrons of the feline persuasion.
Porkmuscle J. Hamfat raises a glass. Pupples McBean, ever at his side, raises his as well. “To The Bitey!”
Various forms of assent, from “Hear! Hear!” to vocalizations more properly confined to alleys, join together as glasses are raised, and then drained, to Liza Bean Bitey.
“Thank you, thank you,” she purrs. She steps to the center of the table, stands on her hind legs. “And while I have you here, I’d like to make a small announcement.”
The crowd erupts.
“You’re running for President!”
“The Grand Jury came back with a no-bill!”
“You’ve decided to become a Tom!”
Liza Bean laughs indulgently. These are her cats; and their upturned, shiny-eyed faces speak of love and secrets, conspiracies and history.
“For some time now, I’ve relied on the beneficence of my friend Pearl here.” From her position at the center of the booth, Liza Bean looks down upon me, smiling.
I raise my hand in acknowledgement: “Hi.” A sea of waving, flicking tails responds in kind.
“The truth is that this has begun to wear on me. To continually be at the mercy of someone else’s whims, to rely on their grocery list –“
Several voices lift from the crowd of cats now surrounding the booth: “The good shrimp!!”
Liza Bean smiles, black lips parting to show even, white teeth. “Exactly. The good shrimp.” She lifts her drink, finishes it. The waitress is at her side immediately with two more drinks – one for her, and one for me. Liza Bean slips a $5 into her hand without missing a beat.
“And so! A small announcement.”
I set my drink down, reach into my purse and open my book, the book I carry for just such announcements.
“I’ve taken a job.”
The cry goes up, in unison. “MRRRROW???”
Liza Bean squeezes a lime into her drink, stirs with one delicately extended claw, and sips. “I’ve taken a job at the Department of Motor Vehicles.”
Twenty-seven cats go silent in anticipation.
“I start Monday,” she says, smiling. She raises her glass. “To legal identification for all!”
The room explodes as 27 cats throw the rest of their drinks down their throats then smash their empty glasses on the floor. A distraught waitress appears immediately, and Liza Bean slips another $5 into her hand, whispers in her ear.
The waitress smiles.
Liza Bean leans over, shouts into my ear. “The après-bar will be held in the attic,” she yells. “The cleaning crew I’ve hired promises to have it spotless by the time you return home from work Wednesday.”
She runs one side of her whiskered little face along my own, and I smile. Dang cat.
“Happy birthday, Liza Bean,” I shout.
And Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys) reaches a paw out, accepts another drink from a smiling, slightly sweaty waitress.
I Need Your Urgent Co-Operation
13 hours ago
40 comments:
What? No Sushi?
Not this time. :-)
Pearl
Spending that money before she actually makes some aint she?
I'd check my charge card if I was you.
Your failure to keep this cat under control will now result in massive traffic snarls as cats all over the country head to the fish market for the better shrimp in their now legally driven cadillacs. Shame on you. Oh yes, and Happy Birthday Liza Bean Bitey...something tells me it's best to keep on your good side. Shrimp??
"love and secrets, conspiracies and history" - the basic ingredients of great tails.
"rely on their grocery list" - never bothered me at all. I would be glad to depend on your grocery list if it included gin and tonic (with beer of course).
Simply, makes you wonder where she gets her money, doesn't it? I've been wondering that for years...
Delores, she's a much happier kitty when presented with seafood. :-)
Lisleman, :-) and with extra limes!
Shhh! People---Shhh!
Hey Pearl! As I often say here - "good grief, this won't end well!" Add cats to anything, and you'll be living in the garage in no time. Consider my back room on standby if she ever runs for office. Indigo x
Leenie, huh? Sorry -- I think I dozed off there! :-)
Indigo, I shall take that under advisement. :-) Good to have somewhere to go!
So that's where my gin disappeared to.
smalltownme, sorry about that. :-) I told her to keep her paws off, but cats, right? Pffft.
Happy Birthday Lisa!
Does she travel much? My sons four Toms would love to meet her.
The resemblance to Palin, drinks, clothing and speeches is startling don't you think? And no one knows were her money comes from either!
Happy Birthday, Liza Bean Bitey! I'll get toasted in your honor tonight.
I try to add an amusing comment to the blogs I follow, but you out-funny me every time! Maybe if I owned--or was owned by--a cat......
Why do I have a sudden craving for a gin & tonic--& some GOOD shrimp?
Delightful :o) ... Happy Birthday Liza Bean Bitey x
I laughed out loud several times while reading this post, and again when reading the comments! I loved R. Jacobs comment about the resemblance to Palin! Happy birthday to Liza Bean Bitey of the Minneapolis, Biteys!
I'm just laughing out loud that you made up this whole story with so many colorful cat characters. Hahaha!! For a moment, I really believed cats could talk and liked drinking gin and tonics. Also, that they were heavy tippers.
Pat, for a cat, Liza Bean’s quite the lady. Which means, of course, that she’d LOVE to meet the four Toms!
R. Jacob, Liza Bean will be horrified to hear this. However, now that I think of it, it’s true that I’ve never seen the two in the same room…
Joshua, Liza Bean finds this fitting.
Fishducky, give in. :-) Give in to the gin and tonics and always – always!! – give in to the lusciousness that is the good shrimp.
Deborah, hi! Glad to see you again! :-) I shall convey your wishes to li’l Liza Bean.
Eva, I’m so glad. Part of the reason I write is the hope that somewhere, someone is smiling into their computer screen because of something I wrote!
Kelley, I truly do “see” these things in my mind, you know. I’m just sorry I didn’t make it to the après-bar party. Luckily, I slept like a little drunken baby. :-)
Happy Birthday Lisa Bean Bitey!
I did notice that you have gone from sushi and saki to gin and tonics. Purrrhaps Cat AA is in your future .... after work of course.
Daisy, Liza Bean Bitey is willing to work the steps should it become necessary. :-)
Oh that Bitey clan, they do learn how to throw a soiree and have a good time. Remind the cat to always take the picture for their identification when the person is looking like someone else. No sense in giving the authorities a no brainer photo.
Cats sure do know how to celebrate
Walking Man, :-) I'll let her know!
Glen, they do have a reputation to uphold, you know!
And, now, you know why I no longer have cats. Couldn't afford to replace the gin all the time.
Greetings,
Yes, tis I, Penny the Jack Russell dog and modest internet star. Now this posting certainly made me paw attention.
Quick, somebody pass me a Jack Russell whisky...whoops hic...make that a Jack Daniel's whisky.
Pawsitive wishes and doggy kisses, your way, Penny xx
Liza? At the DMV? Now THAT will give you some blog fodder for sure!
Happy Birthday Liza-Bean!
(Oh, and for the record....all your posts make me smile and/or laugh at my computer. Unless they are the ones that make me cry.)
Ah to be a cat !!! :)
Toonces the driving cat, Bill the cat, Snagglepuss, Smelly Cat, Felix, and Eartha Kitt wish Liza a belated Happy Birthday!
Pearl...I know you love her, and all, but frankly?
I'm worried....
Happy Birthday Liza Bean. May there be many more.
I sure hope she made good her promise to get the attic cleaned up.
And you've got extra Alkaselter in the house...
You poor woman you.
Happy Birthday Liza!!!!
Spock the Cat, the resident feline Vulcan at my house, and I will toast your birthday.
Where can I get myself a dress collar like Miss Bitey's? I would be so very chic if only I could procure one in human size... Can you just IMAGINE how fabulous I would be?
...Cats are also notoriously smart dressers. :)
Well that is the best name for a cat that I have heard in a long time. Love the account of her birthday celebration. :) And that she drinks G&Ts. :)
Happy Birthday Liza Bean! This birthday post was hilarious!
Brilliant name for a cat - but then the whole post is brilliant. Happy Birthday!
Liza Bean thanks everyone for the birthday wishes and clever comments! Oddly enough, the little bugger never gets hangovers and was up and jumping rope -- jumping rope! -- bright and early (noon) yesterday. (Sent me a video...)
I think she does that just to mess with my head. A cat jumping rope will give you wrinkles for sure...
Two things I love in this world, a good gin and tonic and a Liza Bean story.
And the lineups at the DMV just keep getting longer. Now we have to wait while the cat behind the counter polishes of her G&T and a couple of shrimp before she will turn to us, breathe fumes into our faces and purr . . . "Next?"
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