I threw caution to the wind.
Everyone told me that when the person-kitten arrived, I should observe from a distance. I was truly committed to this course of action, until I met him. They put him on the ground, in his little bed, and we all watched him together to see what he would do. I had to understand him, to get a sense of his smell and his motions. I walked right up to his bed like he was made of catnip. It must have been minutes before I came to my senses.
Now understand, I am ordinarily wise and canny. When the Goddess of Love and the man have people over, I observe from under a piece of furniture only rarely. Usually I hide in another room, under the blankets on the bed, just listening. People usually only smell of street-and-car, so I see little benefit in risking a close encounter. Only when they stay for hours and hours do I hazard a trip to my bowl or my box.
But the person-kitten was different. Completely, totally different. He smelled of street-and-car, of course, and he smelled like the Goddess of Love and the man. This I was prepared for. What I was not prepared for was how scrumptious he smelled.
And smells! And now the Goddess of Love smells that way too. How am I supposed to keep away from them when that scent is in the air? Of course everyone says, "The person-kitten will displace you from their laps forever; forget them. You will be consigned to your lonely bed forever."
Doomsayers and Chicken Littles, all of them. Of course, the person-kitten does occupy the Goddess of Love's lap a lot of the time, but then again she is sitting down a lot more than she used to. I can at least sit next to the two of them. Unlike the other cat I do not beg for milk, I am content to just let the heavenly scent wash over me.
Furthermore, the man often sits next to the two of them as well. His lap is not the equal of the Goddess of Love's lap, of course, but it will suffice. In the years that I have known him, the man has never once eaten me so I suppose he never will. The Goddess of Love trusts him so I trust him, and that is that.
The person-kitten sits a lot; he is not nearly so restless as a big person. Like everyone said, the big people carry him in their arms instead of their mouths. I knew the person-kitten would mew, like any kitten. The mewling sounds strange but everything about people is strange. What is particularly strange is that, when he doesn't mule he often howls, not quite like a canine, but enough to send me scurrying under the nearest bed. (The other cat, silly creature, just sits there with her ears flattened, and waits to be eaten.) Neither the Goddess of Love nor the man run and hide when he howls - instead the howling seems to draw them. Then they produce the heavenly milk-scent, and he becomes quiet.
I suppose he likes the milk-scent as much as I do. So I suppose not everything about people is strange.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
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