I'm thrilled to have my story "Hello Kitty" published on Yahoo Voices, the yahoo contributors network. Read it here:
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Hello Kitty?… It’s your sister. Look, I’m next door hunting mice; pick up if
you’re there. The neighbors left their window open again. Kitty? Hmmm... I’ll
take human communication for one thousand, Alex. Da da da da da da da…Oh well,
I guess you must be outside. Look, Kitty, we need to talk while the humans are
gone. And hopefully I don’t need to remind you to erase this before they get
home. Seeing as they still don’t know we can talk?...I’d like to keep it that way.
So my point here, Kitty, is that if they suspected Siamese cats could talk, well, next thing you know, they’ll
try negotiating. ‘How about if I go back to sleep for an hour, then get up and
feed you?’ I can hear it now. You see, humans totally get ‘talk to the paw’. But
the minute we tried to use words? Mark my word, that’s when the insubordination
would begin. Crack the littlest peep of a ‘good morning,’ and it’s only a
matter of time before they’d start to argue. ‘Morning?’ they’ll say. ‘Don’t you
know what time it is? Leave me alone. Go feed yourself.’ Mind you they say that
now, but only because they’ve deluded themselves into thinking we don’t
actually understand them. As if! Can
you just imagine if we were the ones who evolved opposable thumbs? Cat oh cat,
that would change things around, it would. Imagine...cat food cans, bird cage
handles, bolt action Smith and Wessons...the whole world literally at the tips
of our paws!
Seriously though, humans
have no concept of how hard we work to train them. Now that said, the woman is
at least well-schooled in proper etiquette. I was asleep on the couch
yesterday, and she respectfully sat on the opposite chair and played with her
yarn and sticks, watching that stupid ‘miniature world’ box from across the
room. And that reminds me. You know the box with the light in front of it, the
one with the comfy spot to lie on? What do they call it? A keyboard, I think.
You’d think it was another cat, the attention they’re always giving it,
massaging it with their fingertips day in and day out. They sit in front of
that thing and stare right at it as if it were a god!
Now the man, on the
other paw, is a different matter. He actually picked me up...can you believe
it? Picked me up from a sound sleep
and proceeded to throw me on the floor! Then he woke up the box and watched it
while people the size of mice ran up and down wrestling each other in a green
field! And then, just as I’d get myself settled, he’d jump to his feet and
scream to wake the dead! I had to leave the room, Kitty. I just can’t stomach
such ill manners.
So the problem is, if we
tried to talk to them like calm, civil cats, they would get all political on
us. They’d be asking for a vote in what brand of cat food to buy and when to
clean the litter box. As if life with a cat is a democracy. Oh please! Humans
and their politics! If they can’t be trained to agree with each other, how can
we expect them to learn to agree with us? No; proper human training demands
action. A few piles in the corner and our litter gets changed. A few morning
chest compressions and we get fed on time.
But anyway, the real
reason I called is to give you a heads up. I saw the female writing a note
about a vet appointment tomorrow. We may want to go missing for a few hours.
And remind me to do some more investigation. I need to find out what ‘spay’
means. Gotta go, Kitty. The mouse is coming. I’ll be home in a while.”
