Fiction Friday: Cat Methods


Cat Methods

My human lies there with her eyes closed, blanket absurdly tangled within her silly legs, of which there are only two, her mouth slightly open as she breathes slowly.

Flicking my tail, left then right, I’ve made my decision; it is not too early to request breakfast.

It’s not necessarily that I’m hungry at the moment, but I’ve just recently (in the last moment or two  while listening to my human make that slight rattling noise of air clutching at her throat as it’s pushed out in lazy slumber), made the decision that I would like the opportunity to eat sooner. It’s become very important to me. You wouldn’t understand, it’s a cat thing.

How best to wake her…I flick my tail, leftright.

I could swipe at her strange and bulbous nose; she has no whiskers at all, so it’s a wonder she doesn’t have more issues on those ridiculous legs and it’s obvious now why she stumbles into things when there are no bright lights. Ah, humans, what would they do without the Feline? Perish of course… But she dislikes that method; I find it hilarious on occasion, but she can become cantankerous.

I flick my tail, left-right.

Turning my gaze to her feet, not paws, I notice one of them is exposed. The small individual lumps of varying size attached to her, called toes of all things, are motionless now as she sleeps. I cannot help occasionally batting at the strange attachments as they wiggle, sometimes under the table or when propped on the back of the couch; usually my human shrieks in surprise. Sometimes she finds it humorous, but a poorly placed claw will elicit more consternation than surprised amusement.

Perhaps not pouncing on her feet.

I flick my tail, right-left.

I slink my way across the bed, paws silent on the mattress. Closer to my human’s warmth, whiskers twitching as her lips exhale another breath, I’ve made my decision.

The rumbling vibration in my chest starts, revving in soft huffs in time with my breath, purring she calls it, as I lower my head to the exposed length of flesh that is my human’s neck. Gently but insistently, I push the top of my head against her, rubbing my silky coat against her furless skin; a strange but not unpleasant sensation, I must admit.

I flick my tail, right-left.

Her body shifts the moment I settle my head beneath her chin, it fits perfectly in the curve where her neck meets her jaw… my entire body used to fit there as a kitten; my human would wake me from a pleasant slumber with her throaty laugh, scoop me into her palm before cuddling me to her chest.

My human’s dainty fingers now find their sleepy way to my glossy coat, stroking in lazy touches of her fingertips; her laugh is still throaty, and I purr against her neck, mingling our separate vibrations the same way heartbeats synchronize until you cannot separate one from the other.

She coos in the way that sleepers being awakened in comforting ways murmur and reach for the source of warmth gently pulling them from the waters of that strange place of dreams. She pulls me to her, as if I were still a kitten, hugging me to her chest, my head still nuzzling her throat.

I hear her sigh, she’s seen the time. She groans next, even while petting and holding me.

She prefers this method of waking her up; I have to admit, it’s not so bad.

I flick my tail, left-right.


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