A Night in the Life of Zoe Cat
Greetings and salutations. I would like to introduce myself. My name is Zoe Marie. Like many fluffy white, pink nosed, blue-eyed kitties, I was born deaf. That, however, does not deter me from performing my nightly rounds, or from communicating loud and clear with those around me.
Each evening, the Mommy Cat turns out the lights around the house, signaling to me that it is safe to roam and play. You see there is another inhabitant of my house. It is fuzzy, brown, and psycho. I believe Mommy Cat refers to it as a Yorkie. I hate it. Any encounter with said creature must begin with a hiss. It is smaller than me, yet thinks it can take me. It always meets the business end of my claws. Fortunately, I do not have to whip them out too often. Lights out is the signal that the Yorkie thing has gone to bed.
My evening begins with the long trip from my bedroom to my food bowl. I step one paw out of the door. I look left, right, and left again. I take two more steps and look around. Three or four more steps get me to the front door where I linger a bit to completely ensure my safety. A few minutes later, I am under the cover of the table, and then it’s only a short jaunt to my dining table.
Mommy Cat always leaves a few treats on top of my dinner to whet my appetite. I eat the
treats, and then sneer at the rest. More treats must be acquired. I visit Mommy Cat’s bedroom door. She has forgotten to leave the door open. That means I must paw and meow until she wakes up. She is up and sleepily places a few more treats into my food bowl to “encourage” me to stop meowing. Mission accomplished. Having had my fill of treats, I eat my dinner.
Now, I must patrol the house. Off once again to the mommy cat’s bedroom where she has graciously left the door open for me. I slink in, and head for the bathroom where everything must meet my inspection. Uh oh! The closet door has been shut. That must be immediately remedied. “MEOW!! MEOOOOOOW!!! MEOWWWWWWWW!!!” Finally, Mommy feels my vibrations and opens the door. I glance inside, decide all is in order, pause to glare at the Yorkie thing sleeping comfortably, and am back out the door before Mommy is back in bed.
Having eaten and made Mommy Cat get up twice, I am free to play. I search the house for Little Pink Ball. Oh, I remember. It’s in the bedroom. Pad, pad, pad, zoooom!!! I found it. Oh, it’s gone. Now, I have it. Swoosh. Nope, dropped it. Chew, chew, chew. Bored now.
Porch time! Ugh. The door is closed. “MOOOM! MOOMMMMMM! PORCH!!! POOORCH! POOOOORRRCH!” Mommy Cat comes stumbling out, opens the door, pats me on the top of the head, and shuffles back into her room. Free at last!
I had Mommy Cat set up blocks at each corner so I have a full view of the back yard. They say patience is a virtue, and I have mountains of it. Guarding my house requires all of my focus. There’s movement off to the left. It’s white like me, but has black poured on top. It stares at me, taunting me. I must frighten it away. “Weoow! Weeooowww! WEOOOOOWWWW!” Mommy’s up. She turns on the porch light, and the black and white thing saunters to the fence, scales it, and retreats. I go running up to Mommy Cat and announce, “You’ll be glad to know the house is secure”.
Once I tire of the porch, I head inside. As I retreat to my bedroom to watch the sunrise, I realize one thing is missing…a special snuggle from the Mommy Cat. I make one last trip to her bedroom door. “Mom. MOOOM!”
Each evening, the Mommy Cat turns out the lights around the house, signaling to me that it is safe to roam and play. You see there is another inhabitant of my house. It is fuzzy, brown, and psycho. I believe Mommy Cat refers to it as a Yorkie. I hate it. Any encounter with said creature must begin with a hiss. It is smaller than me, yet thinks it can take me. It always meets the business end of my claws. Fortunately, I do not have to whip them out too often. Lights out is the signal that the Yorkie thing has gone to bed.
My evening begins with the long trip from my bedroom to my food bowl. I step one paw out of the door. I look left, right, and left again. I take two more steps and look around. Three or four more steps get me to the front door where I linger a bit to completely ensure my safety. A few minutes later, I am under the cover of the table, and then it’s only a short jaunt to my dining table.
Mommy Cat always leaves a few treats on top of my dinner to whet my appetite. I eat the
treats, and then sneer at the rest. More treats must be acquired. I visit Mommy Cat’s bedroom door. She has forgotten to leave the door open. That means I must paw and meow until she wakes up. She is up and sleepily places a few more treats into my food bowl to “encourage” me to stop meowing. Mission accomplished. Having had my fill of treats, I eat my dinner.
Now, I must patrol the house. Off once again to the mommy cat’s bedroom where she has graciously left the door open for me. I slink in, and head for the bathroom where everything must meet my inspection. Uh oh! The closet door has been shut. That must be immediately remedied. “MEOW!! MEOOOOOOW!!! MEOWWWWWWWW!!!” Finally, Mommy feels my vibrations and opens the door. I glance inside, decide all is in order, pause to glare at the Yorkie thing sleeping comfortably, and am back out the door before Mommy is back in bed.
Having eaten and made Mommy Cat get up twice, I am free to play. I search the house for Little Pink Ball. Oh, I remember. It’s in the bedroom. Pad, pad, pad, zoooom!!! I found it. Oh, it’s gone. Now, I have it. Swoosh. Nope, dropped it. Chew, chew, chew. Bored now.
Porch time! Ugh. The door is closed. “MOOOM! MOOMMMMMM! PORCH!!! POOORCH! POOOOORRRCH!” Mommy Cat comes stumbling out, opens the door, pats me on the top of the head, and shuffles back into her room. Free at last!
I had Mommy Cat set up blocks at each corner so I have a full view of the back yard. They say patience is a virtue, and I have mountains of it. Guarding my house requires all of my focus. There’s movement off to the left. It’s white like me, but has black poured on top. It stares at me, taunting me. I must frighten it away. “Weoow! Weeooowww! WEOOOOOWWWW!” Mommy’s up. She turns on the porch light, and the black and white thing saunters to the fence, scales it, and retreats. I go running up to Mommy Cat and announce, “You’ll be glad to know the house is secure”.
Once I tire of the porch, I head inside. As I retreat to my bedroom to watch the sunrise, I realize one thing is missing…a special snuggle from the Mommy Cat. I make one last trip to her bedroom door. “Mom. MOOOM!”