Tag Archives: cat voice blogs

Kira Gives her Point of View

kiraRight, my name is Kira, and I own a house in Wytheville. Some other cats and humans and one big dog live there, too. It’s like foster care or something. So here’s what happened.

I’m sitting there in the sunbeam minding my own business, just finishing up a spit bath, and WHAM without so much as a by-your-leave I am hoisted into the air and carried to a carrier.

I do not like carriers. They usually end in a journey someplace where you get poked and prodded and maybe lose a couple of parts. Not that I begrudge the parts. Never wanted kids.

So I start vocalizing my opinions on this piece of skullduggery but I am carried IN SUBZERO TEMPERATURES¬† *editor’s note: it was 42 degrees* out to a car, and I think yeah, here we go. And go we did. We went, and went, and went. It coulda been days. *editor’s note: it was three hours*

Finally, the car stops, and my people and the dog get out, again there’s a freezing trip through the air, and inside this overwarm house there’s this nice lady and this guy.¬† The lady wants to make a fuss, but I’ve had enough of not knowing what’s going on and I bolt for the nearest closet.

It’s a nice closet. Fuzzy sweaters hanging up and one conveniently knockable to the floor. Whadaya know ’bout that? (I don’t know nothin’, see. It was there when I get there, I says.)

A few hours of sleep, some restorative wet lunch (I think that was the lady’s way of apologizing) and I’m right as rain. Ready for some of that loving the lady wants to send my way. She’s got a nice lap. My human lady keeps calling this lady “Mom” so I figure I better be on my good behavior. A little eye batting, a little purring… yep, worked like a charm.

From this vantage point I can eavesdrop on their conversation. Turns out, this whole trip is for the dog. THE DOG??!! He has to have knee surgery. Old football injury or something. All this inconvenience to me, for the sake of the house canine? He isn’t even on payroll, just an accessory. Sheesh.

Well, there’s gonna be extra wet supper, I can tell you. I did tell my human, vocally, several times. She got the hint.

That night I snooze with the guy and the lady from the house, and next morning my human slides the door open to let the precious invalid dog out, and I take my shot. I like outdoors, visit it pretty regular back home, so it’s not like I’m stupid and not gonna come back. I know which side my foodbowl sits upright on.

So like I said, out I goes and—

–what the hell? Is this the Apocalypse?? WHAT IS THIS STUFF???!!!

I kid you not, fellas, the ground was covered with this cold white dead ash. I guess somebody finally sent the bomb up? Is this gonna affect my food supply? Back in I go, everything normal in there (well, at least as normal can be when a family prioritizes the dog) and I warn them. I warn them loudly and well. Truly, I tell them the end of the world is upon us and they need to go the store RIGHT NOW and buy ALL the tuna. QUICK.

And my human, she LAUGHS at me. “SNOW” she calls it. “It’s just snow, pussytuddums,” she says, all prissy sweet. I HATE it when she calls me… that name.

Anyway, I milked it. Got second breakfast out of the whole deal. kira 2

So that’s my story, and you can see it was an easy mistake to make. Never seen the stuff before, y’know? How was I supposed to know?

But they did buy me tuna. So it’s all good.

 

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Filed under animal rescue, Uncategorized

Roberta Shares Her Thoughts

19756347_1656566294354428_9082852733039553025_nHello. My name is Roberta and I am senior kitten in residence at the Little Bookstore of Big Stone. I am in charge of four other kittens waiting here with me for Love to find us. They are Wybie and Gaiman, who are brothers that came from the shelter; Mayflower, who was an orphan at three days old; and Tooth.

Nobody knows very much about Tooth. He was here when Foster Mom and Dad got home from their vacation, and none of the humans who work at the bookstore or cafe are admitting anything. Me, I think it best not to tell what I know, so I’m playing dumb.

Not that I am. Dumb, that is. I’ve been reading a lot of the Math books after dark here (they leave a flashlight by the ac unit) and doing the geometry on jingle ball trajectories. I may be smaller than the other kittens here, but I have the advantage of knowing exactly where to push the ball for maximum torque. It makes the rest mad, because they’ve all got like eight ounces on me, but brain over brawn. And I admit, victory is sweet. Silly boys.

I have also worked out how to get the largest share of wet breakfast each morning. Foster Mom divides one can among six of us, so I wait until she’s on about bowl three, and I leap across the counter onto her back. Even though I do this almost every morning, it never fails to startle her, and she drops an extra spoonful into dish three. Then I just eat that, because the boys have already got the first two, and Mayflower and Tooth don’t mind waiting.

See, you just have to apply a little logic, a little book learning, and there’s no problem can’t be solved. I’m looking for a book here about how to get adopted, but so far the closest I’ve found is one called “Finding Forever Love… and Keeping It.” It didn’t really seem to apply. I don’t “dress for success” because I have fur, and I can’t cook because Foster Mom hides the matches because of the staff cat Hadley. Something about her being a pyro. And the second half of the book, it was… well, humans and cats have different ideas about sex, is all. Let’s just leave it there.

But hopefully no one will be leaving me here, because as much as I’m enjoying the bookstore and my long nights of reading, I really want to get started on training my forever humans. I’ve read a lot of the books from Career Building, about how to get people to do what you want, and I feel fully ready. So, c’mon down and let’s get this show started, shall we? I’m waiting.

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Filed under animal rescue, Big Stone Gap, bookstore management, humor, Life reflections, Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap, small town USA, Uncategorized, VA, Wendy Welch