For display purposes only!
“Why?” I said. He was in there
again. Only takes a second’s lapse in vigilance. It was Sweetie, of course.
Though, I have seen Booker follow him in before.
“What’s the compelling attraction, Mr. Cat?” says I.
The voice answers, “Prrrrrr..”
“Not talking? Nobody, not even a young cat does things for no reason.” I urged.
“You can’t see me now!” he said, with satisfaction. “Nothing will ever make me come out! I rule here, on the steaks.”
“That’s called 'hubris,' Youngster,” says I.
“It will take more than name calling to get me to come out, Ma,” the voice continued.
“Exaggerated pride, or self-confidence. IOW arrogance! How does that sound? Do you want to be like that?” I said, pedantically.
“All hidey-holes are mine, by right of conquest,” said the voice.
“You’re sitting on my steaks,” I said, “Good thing they’re shrink-wrapped, eh?”
“Right of conquest!” he chortled.
“Baloney!” I yelped.
“Do you have some?” he asked, looking up through the shelves. There was a lot of purring and fidgeting around. (Shrink-wrap is really a good thing, you know?)
“I hear your brother calling you!” I said.
“Nuh-uh!” and he crept further back. “I’m making room for him.”
What could I do, but get out the big guns, the sound no cat can withstand? Yes. The Temptations container. I rattled it.
He popped right out. Booker came running. Mr. Baby swarmed aboard too. Soon we were having a great old time with cat treats. What do they put in that stuff, that is so desirable? It looks pretty much like cat kibble. (I need to look up the etymology of ‘kibble.’) Suzie doesn’t like Temptations. She says they make her rhumatize kick up. Doubtful.
They all wish all the other cats a Merry Tootsday, most of all Toots, herself!
“What’s the compelling attraction, Mr. Cat?” says I.
The voice answers, “Prrrrrr..”
“Not talking? Nobody, not even a young cat does things for no reason.” I urged.
“You can’t see me now!” he said, with satisfaction. “Nothing will ever make me come out! I rule here, on the steaks.”
“That’s called 'hubris,' Youngster,” says I.
“It will take more than name calling to get me to come out, Ma,” the voice continued.
“Exaggerated pride, or self-confidence. IOW arrogance! How does that sound? Do you want to be like that?” I said, pedantically.
“All hidey-holes are mine, by right of conquest,” said the voice.
“You’re sitting on my steaks,” I said, “Good thing they’re shrink-wrapped, eh?”
“Right of conquest!” he chortled.
“Baloney!” I yelped.
“Do you have some?” he asked, looking up through the shelves. There was a lot of purring and fidgeting around. (Shrink-wrap is really a good thing, you know?)
“I hear your brother calling you!” I said.
“Nuh-uh!” and he crept further back. “I’m making room for him.”
What could I do, but get out the big guns, the sound no cat can withstand? Yes. The Temptations container. I rattled it.
He popped right out. Booker came running. Mr. Baby swarmed aboard too. Soon we were having a great old time with cat treats. What do they put in that stuff, that is so desirable? It looks pretty much like cat kibble. (I need to look up the etymology of ‘kibble.’) Suzie doesn’t like Temptations. She says they make her rhumatize kick up. Doubtful.
They all wish all the other cats a Merry Tootsday, most of all Toots, herself!
🐈⬛
kibble(n.)
"ground-up meat used as dog food, etc.," 1957, apparently from the verb meaning "to bruise or grind coarsely," which is attested from 1790, first in milling; a word of unknown origin. The same or an identical word was used in the coal trade in the late 19c. and in mining from the 1670s for "bucket used to haul up ore or waste."
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