“So operation Midnight Smother is – Quick look innocent, the talking furniture is back.”
Today I realized I’ve been outsmarted by my cat. It would be bad enough to be outsmarted by a cat that seemed to have a high level of intelligence for a cat; some kind of cat savant perhaps that can spell out its request for clean litter using kibble.
It might even be acceptable to be outsmarted by a cat that displayed the innate intelligence of instinct; the kind of cat that knows, at any given time, which window will have the best sunbeam.
However I was not outsmarted by any of those mythical cats. Nope. I was outsmarted by a cat who gets lost in my apartment when I turn the lights off; the kind of cat that makes you say “good think she’s pretty”. Her instincts are so limited she had to be reminded not to lie directly on her own kittens. (You’d think the muffled mews and wiggling would be enough of a reminder.)
So when the doctor prescribed pills (for the cat) I felt secure in my ability to administer them. Sure she struggled at first, but then when she realized that I (and my superior intellect) had her the struggling and drooling ceased and she began to swallow the pills with less difficulty.
I would wait for her swallow noises then reward her with a scratch before releasing her. She would run to the corner and groom for a while looking offended and then walk away. I was sure I had won the battle each time.
Today, however, I realized how wrong I’ve been. Today I found several of her pills on the floor. I was confused. I mean I saw her swallow right? Then it dawned on me. She’s been cheeking the pill, faking the swallow and waiting until I wasn’t looking to spit it on the floor and run. Note to self, stop watching prison shows in front of the cat.
Seriously makes me wonder how many pills I’ve vacuumed up in the past while she sat on the couch giggling her catish giggle. “Stupid talking furniture.”
The cat also recently began curling up with me again. I thought she was forgiving me for the pill situation but now I think maybe she is just lulling me into a false sense of security before smothering me in my sleep. I may be in danger.
Writing Exercise:
I went to the PNE this week and was reminded of how much I dislike rides at the fair. Not that I went on any of the rides. I’m well beyond believing any of the rides will be fun. But just the site of he rides made my muscles tense in anticipation of corners sharply turned in a mettle box on a rickety structure actually designed to drop out from under you and hurtle you to your certain death. Anyway, the experience left me wondering what people who actually enjoy these rides are thinking? Tell the story of your favorite ride at the fair. Happy writing.
NB. I still wont believe it was fun.
