She is a dog person. I can tell just by looking in her eyes. It’s in the way she is looking at me in expectation, as if I am going to dance out of my bed to lick her. Ugh! I have better things to do than pleasing random people dropping in to visit me.
Okay, I know she is not a random person, probably a neighbour of my temporary-slaves–a really close neighbour, considering she is here everyday, sometimes cooking in the kitchen, always eating and drinking god-knows-what.
Honestly, I don’t know much about these temporary-slaves except that my permanent-slaves trusted them to do my bidding and escorted me to their place so that they themselves could go where they had to.
So far, these people have been satisfactory–they keep my food plate full and the water tastes correct. They offer me random treats that I reject outright, so they don’t expect any special treatment. They stroke me and when they try to pick me up and I give them the evil-eye, they drop me right there on their bed. I like their bed, it is large and the blankets spread on top of it are specially soft.
They have a human kitten who is satisfactory too. She comes in early mornings, late afternoons and evenings and keeps stroking me and offering toys, which I reject, of course. She talks to me about random things–school, friends, teachers–and I ignore her. I close my eyes to remind her it is nap time though I don’t think she takes the hint…until she calls her.
That is another reason I don’t like her. I don’t like random people calling off my slaves, especially when they are stroking my favourite spots. I think her name is Momma. That’s what that kitten calls her. Momma has also been trying to get my attention but I would rather avoid her. That is why I always leave my throne next to kitchen window when she walks in. I would rather hazard sleeping inside my slaves’ room. She may be a worthy subject but that doesn’t change anything. She is a dog-person–it is written all over her face, in her disappointment for not getting a special treatment for just showing up. And that is reason enough to dump her.
I think dogs overdo it. Everytime someone comes in, they have to react–they bark,they bite or they wag their tails and lick. Every single time; like they had been waiting for the opportunity; like they didn’t have anything better to do; like they don’t need time to wash and groom, or sulk and brood…
They give too much importance to their human slaves. It’s shameful. If my mother was here, she would call it attention-seeking behaviour. We cats are above this silly stuff. We eat, we drink, we wash and we sleep. That is enough to get us though the days. We don’t need to run a mile to be pampered. We chose to be pampered. And we chose the pamperor. No Mom, Dick or Harry is going to touch my fur unless I allow it.
Momma is calling my name. I am ignoring her. She is holding out kitty-treats, smiling. I give her an evil-eye and the smile falters. Well, it doesn’t feel as good as I thought–she isn’t evil and she isn’t exactly setting her dog on me. But she is in my territory and that makes her my subject. I have to teach her respect. Disappointed, she drops the treat in my bowl. Good!
Gingerly, she holds out a hand for me to sniff. Hmmm, she is seeking permission to touch. I am tempted to lick the taste of treats off her hand but I don’t. I just sniff and ignore her. She quietly moves her hand on my head and strokes. I should have growled to set her in her place but I allow it for now–it is rather nice the way she is scratching behind my ears…
Ohhh!
Yes!
Yes, Yes, Yes!
Right there, keep doing it!
Ohh my goodness! How did she know?
Ooooh! Oh God, I love her…
But I can’t tell her that, I have to teach her her place…
But this feels so good…
Here, scratch here under my neck…
My goodness, she is a scratch goddess…
Here, a little more on the tummy…
You got it right baby! Keep doing it…
Ohhhh!
Oh no, she is getting distracted by her kitten! Go away you pesky little thing…
Come back, Momma. Do your thing!
Duh! Lost the rhythm! That’s what happens when you socialise while on job. Go away and don’t come back, you…you…disappointing human!
Huh! Call my name all you want. Like I care!
Photo credit: Antonio
Author’s note: I have always been a dog person. When a relative dropped off their cat at our home for a week, I wondered if I’ll like it. But she is furry, quiet and dignified with just the right kind of sass. I love her and she ignores me. I call her name and she moves into my brother-in-law’s room to shake me off. I follow and she gives me ‘the eye’. I offer her treats and she gives me a look of disgust. It’s only when I stroke her that she acknowledges my existence. As soon as the rub ends, I become invisible to her again. Sigh!
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 