Living with Frannie is a lot of fun. She's really very good to me; she feeds me a nice variety of entrees and she's affectionate. I have the run of the house and she lets me sleep in her bed and on any piece of furniture I choose. Sometimes she even lets me play with the computer. I have a basketful of interesting kitty toys. I really have no complaints.

But today I got into big trouble. She was in the bathroom, primping for church. Suddenly she came out of the bathroom and sneaked up on me. I was stretched out on the kitchen table, under the ceiling fan, enjoying the breeze and ready to doze off.

She shrieked. She screamed. The sound made my teeth chatter and my whiskers curl. If she didn't look so nice, I would have thought she was a witch gone crazy.

"TomCat! What do you think you're doing? GET OFF THERE! NOW!"

She had the hair dryer in her hand and was waving it around wildly, but I could see that it wasn't plugged in, so I wasn't too concerned. It was her voice that shook me up, but I didn't move. It was a warm morning and she hadn't turned on the air conditioner. I was in a nice spot. Why should I move? You'd have thought I was on hallowed ground. I'm a clean cat. I'll bet I'm cleaner than she is. I wash myself all day long. She only showers once or twice a day.

I stood my ground. Or, rather, I stayed on the table and looked at her with my soft blue eyes. She pushed me, she poked me, she slammed a newspaper on my tail and continued to brandish the hair dryer. I didn't move. She tried to lift me off, but I dug in my heels and wouldn't budge. Since she broke her shoulder last year, she's not as strong as she used to be. She finally walked away exasperated and went to get dressed. I was still on the table when she returned. She pushed, and I slid over to the far end of the table. She washed off a section with antibacterial soap (you'd think I was contaminated with something) and she set out a bowl of Cheerios for herself. I wanted to sniff the Cheerios, but I didn't dare. I just stretched lazily on the other end of the table and continued to stare her down. She finally sat and ate the Cheerios, all the time watching me with fire in her eyes.

Today, for the first time, I won. She's not happy.



~ Frannie (Frannie516@aol.com)

ŠAugust 2004





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