Dolly Gee Squeakers, formerly of the Humane Society
Squeakers, sits on her perch at the front of the house.
Good ol’ Dolly.
The move has been good for her. True,
I believe she has hidden a pack of Virginia Slims somewhere in the house, the
only evidence of which are the field-stripped butts I sometimes find in the
garbage. And she still gambles, of
course, sneaking out on Tuesdays and Thursday for Bingo Night at any one of
three bars in walking distance. And it’s
a given that I should continue to find her atop my head late at night, snoring
softly, her soft fuzzy paws twitching.
She’ll get that squirrel yet.
But Dolly relishes being an only kitty.
“You don’t miss Liza Bean at all?”
The cat stares at me, her bright blue eyes shining. She tilts her head to one side.
“Not even a little?”
She shrugs, a charming gesture in a cat.
Indeed, it is rare that Dolly speaks. Teased as a kitten for her lisp, the cat
relies, mostly, on movement, quizzical looks, and texting.
I get them at work.
And even when texting, Dolly Gee takes pains to avoid S’s, using a
thesaurus that I suspect is somewhere in the house, probably next to the
cigarettes.
My phone vibrates from within the purse in my bottom
drawer. Buzz-Buzz-Buzz.
I pick it up, read:
“What time will you be home?”
I look around.
It’s not frowned upon, getting texts at work, but the last time someone
asked me who texted me all day, I was caught off-guard and replied, truthfully
– as is my wont – that it was the cat.
That person looks at me funny now.
“Why?”
Buzz-Buzz-Buzz. “A fly.
In the window. I need it.”
I close my eyes, sigh.
“Maybe that fly in the kitchen is still there?”
Buzz-Buzz-Buzz. “No.
Require fly in window. Come
home.”
Suddenly tired of the day, I briefly consider telling my
boss that I need to go home, that the cat has a hankerin’ for a fly she has no
access to.
I shake my head. “I
suggest you go lie down somewhere. Be
home in three hours.”
Buzz-Buzz-Buzz. “You are a cruel, thought-free woman. Expect a gift on the rug upon your return.”
I put my phone away, close the drawer and smile.
Having one cat is, in many ways, like having two.
27 comments:
Oh texts like that and making the decision to go or not to go must be hard. Presents on the rug are special. I hope Liza Bean keeps texting Dolly too. HUGS B
She's learned from the best and is putting her own 'spin' on it. Could it be, our Dolly Gee, in one dangerous cat?
Hari OM
Oh I strongly suspect, as with any child who breaks away from the established home, that Dolly is going to find her inner voice; and, eventually, the toilet tray... YAM xx
I am afraid to ask about Dolly Gee.
Where is Liza Bean?
At one time we actually sought out a companion cat for one of ours who had had a brother die when both were young. Remaining kitty seemed lonely, coming to us frequently for long periods of patting and cuddling. Six years later, kitty still comes to us all the time, despite companion cat plus one stray arriving in the household.
My point is, I wonder if, in truth, all cats want to be only cats, deep down.
And Dolly clearly is gearing up to write a guest post, what with the thesaurus and all. I for one am eagerly anticipating an 's-less' post ...
I walk out of the room for one minute and a cat goes missing ???? Where is Liza Bean ?
I adopted a kitten last year. A little tiny Russian Blue with the biggest yellow eyes . She had been found under a bridge, curled up next to a dead cat in the snow ( they could make a movie about this- everyone would cry) .. She is my adored Minette.
A few months ago, I looked online at the County Shelter website ... a little self torture I play with.
There he was ... an 11 year old Himalayan cat. Squinty blue eyes, cranky face, hair everywhere, and old. And no family or anyone to tell him they love him.
Minette sulks now and then but the truth is, she likes sleeping next to her brother on cold nights. his long hair can cover them both. Although lately, I find I have a cat on each side of me when I wake in the mornings. It is a lovely way to wake up.
You do know cats, Pearl!
I keep telling my cats we don't get a signal because of the terrain. So far they haven't really looked into it.
Liza Bean! Where are you Liza Bean??
I like the phrase "cruel, thought-free woman" --somehow more liberating than 'thoughtleth'. Add beautiful and translate into French (la belle dame sans pensée) and by Golly you're on the way to a Keats poem.
Oh, Dolly Gee! Ith tho nith to hear from you again!
I am keeping this post away from Jazz n Jewel, or the phone would have to spend more times turned off than it currently does. And I suspect that thought free would be nicer than many of the texts which would arrive.
Of course, Dolly relishes being the only cat. Kind of like my son when he was small. He'd ask for a little brother only to come back a few minutes later to tell me he'd changed his mind - he didn't want to share us. So, so glad you are back, Pearl.
I could just imagine the texts our cat, Connelly, would send... oi!
Now I am worried about the whereabouts of a certain Miss Liza Bean !! Pearl ? where is she ??
I am glad to hear that Dolly Gee knows to go to a bar within walking distance. A cat who likes to text and drink should never drive.
Oh, indeed. I'd as lief have any number of cats as to have one cat.
(See can you parse that in the wee hours whilst Dolly G scratches your head.)
Along with several others, I'm wondering where is Liza Bean?
So thoughtful of Dolly Gee to ask 'please' come home.
It was foolish of you, wasn't it?
Can't you change numbers without telling her?
Tsk.
Hugs to you in your new place.
xx
And, once again, I curse my enforced cat-free existence . . .
My friend has a cat and i'm pretty sure he sends her text messages too. Hmmm. Perhaps they're related ;-)
xo jj
Cats in control is enough to push me firmly into the dog camp!
If you could, ask her about my wallet, suddenly missing after drinking one night with a similar cat in the Dew Drop Inn, nearby.
Dolly Gee IS one clever girl--so sly... Thought-free. What a simply fantastic job of staying away from those pesky s's.
Tell Dolly Gee if she wants flies, and wouldn't mind a commute, we have plenty of them here in Massachusetts. One day, suddenly and with no obvious reason, we found our house infested with forty or fifty of the creatures. We have culled the herd significantly since then, but still are getting the occasional straggler. A cat willing to chase them down would be welcomed with open arms.
"Teased as a kitten for her lisp..." OMG you are hysterical. When are you going to take to the big screen or at least the stage?
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