Kat’s Tale

Homework was to write in the first person, but not as yourself.
Somehow, I ended up being a cat!



Kat’s Tale- Yasmin Mariess

I jumped up on the desk, and peered at the computer screen, looking to see what it was that made Susie’s face screw up all funny.

“Jerry!” she called, “There it is again, another odd message”

                                                 

I purred and stretched across her lap, and was rewarded with a tickle under the chin.

“What does it say, Darling?”  Jerry her new husband, asked coming into the room.

“BE WARY THE TABBELETTS” she said.

“Oh, it’s probably your nephew, didn’t he come over yesterday?” he said, massaging the back of her neck.

Susie stood up, absentmindedly dropping me on the floor.

She turned to wrap her arms around Jerry’s neck, and he kissed her until she could not breathe. He was always doing that, what was he trying to do? Suffocate her?

I padded off to the kitchen in search of food, and finding none, decided that as she wasn’t taking me seriously, I’d have to do something about the tablets myself. He’d left the packet lying on the counter; I’d have to get rid of them before he poisoned her.

Since Jerry had arrived in our house, he’d caused no end of trouble- I was convinced he was trying to kill her and I was running out of my cat lives trying to save her.

First it had been the case of the sharpened knife, I watched him sharpen it, but when he didn’t return it to the knife block and left it lying on the kitchen table I took my chance. It had been tricky, dropping it into the bin without opposable thumbs.

Jerry had been surprised at that one, but he found it and fished it out of the bin. He pretended that it was freshly sharpened to cut the steaks he was preparing for his ‘romantic dinner’.

I knew better.

Then last November there were the fireworks through the letterbox. I’m guessing he was trying to smoke her out. She had thought it was neighborhood kids. It had taken me weeks to grow my fur back again after that little episode.

Then I saw him put those little white pills in her tea, he had his back turned to her, and she didn’t see. He gave it a good stir then I had jumped up, and knocked the mug over. She laughed and said “Silly Kitty” while he made her a fresh cup, this time using sugar. She said she never liked those sweeteners they tasted like poison. I knew it! He was trying to poison her, and now there was a new packet of pills on the table.  Protecting her was becoming a full time job, soon I was going to need back up.

He thought he’d pull a fast one when he announced one day, that the car had been ‘serviced’. Well of course I knew he’d had the brakes cut; I’d seen it on TV.

I don’t just lie on the sofa all day, you know. I take stuff in. I hid the car keys where it was impossible to find them. In the waste disposal unit. It was interesting watching him set it in motion and the grinding noise was dreadful. The plumber had to be called, and they still haven’t replaced the keys.

Night times used to be just her and me on the bed, keeping her toes warm. Now I had to share the bed; I was not very good at sharing. That particular night, he thought he’d been sneaky, plumping up the pillows in such a sweet way as she lay down, her innocent face smiling up at him. I could see he was just itching to pick up the pillow and smother her. I jumped off the bed and scratched at the bedroom door, and worked hard at my hacking sounds until he leapt out of bed shouting  ‘‘that bloody cat!” before unceremoniously dumping me in the back yard.

                                                                                                                                                                 

It was Game On.

One Friday evening, I was innocently lying across the second to top step of the stairs, the central heating pipes run under there, and it’s nice and warm. They were going for a night out, her in her high heels, him draping a jacket across her shoulders. He didn’t think I’d seen him, but it was a plain as the tail on my tush, that he gave her an almighty shove, obviously wanting to plunge her down the stairs. Of course he later said that she’d “Tripped over that bloody cat” and he was reaching to help steady her, not push her. But I know different.

It was after that I started to warn her; she spends hours each day at the computer typing and I’d picked up a thing or two. It’s quite easy really, tap tap tap with the paws, any cat can do it but I suppose most choose not to. It’s not good for the ‘aloof’ image I imagine. But I really love my girl, and to keep her safe is my task. So, the messages had started.

“BE KAREFULL IN TEH BATH ROOEM”

She was in the habit of taking a relaxing long bubble bath on a Friday night, before they went out, as is their weekly ritual.  Anyway, I’d seen it on TV; Inspector Morse (or as I like to think of myself ‘Inspector Mouse’) had shown an episode where the husband drowned his wife in the bath. I was lying down on the biggest chair in the lounge, and he was watching it too- after complaining that I was on his chair. I saw him glaring at me as we watched; I narrowed my eyes and pretended to sleep. All the while, I could see he was getting ideas.

I followed him into the bathroom, to see what he was up to, ever the faithful pet. I watched as he picked up a giant fluffy towel his arms outstretched, as she stepped out of the bath he wrapped her tightly in the towel- it was as if by instinct I knew what was coming next, and jumped up and shredded the front of his sweat pants.

“That bloody cat!” he yelled as he doubled over in agony. But I knew I’d saved the day again.

And now this.  More pills- this time he was hell bent on trying them out on me first!  He had sneaked up on me, grabbed me and tried to ram the tablets down my throat, I choked and gasped and struggled for all I was worth and managed to break free. I raced upstairs to the Misses and threw myself at her.

“What’s up my purry little girl?” She murmured, burying her face in my fur. “He’s trying to kill me, I explained, he’s on to me!” But all she heard was pitiful mewing.

“What are you doing to the cat, Jerry?” she called out. “Just trying to worm her”, he called back, “Bloody cat!”

“Aww, don’t worry, Kitty” she said to me “he doesn’t mean any harm”

Huh. That’s what she thinks.

Next-door’s dog was barking. I hate that dog. Actually, I pretty much hate all dogs. But I looked out the window with interest, to see what all the fuss was about; his infernal noise was as good as any doorbell. There he was, Jerry, struggling up the path with a huge coil of cord slung over his shoulder… Mon deux! He was going to strangle her!

I dashed off to the hallway, I had to stop him, I landed in an inelegant heap at his feet, sending him flying “THAT BLOOD…” he never finished his sentence, as his head clobbered the hall bannister and he was out cold.

My round.

Well, for now anyway. There she was stroking his brow, soothing it with a damp cloth, cooing over him. It makes you sick enough to bring up a furball. I sat on the arm of the sofa, flicking my tail in his face.

“Oh, Kitty, are you trying to make him better? What a little sweetheart”

No, actually, I wasn’t. I was trying to take his allergy up a notch; a good sneeze would ‘cure’ his headache.

Jerry groaned. “I won’t be able to finish the washing line, darling, I’m not feeling very well… “

Well, that was it really; I’d now used up all my nine lives, trying to save her precious one and only life. I’d taken dangerous risks on her account, and all to protect her from that monster that had entered our previously happy home.

What’s a cat to do? I skulked off to a sunny spot by the window and licked my wounds, because when a 15 stone bloke trips over you, it hurts. Never mind his head.

While she was fussing around him, it was time for a trip up stairs, luckily

 She had left the computer on, and I typed steadily;

“MY TUMMEEY HURTZ”

                                                                                                                                                    

Then I crawled off to find a quite spot in the bottom of the wardrobe on a warm pile of jumpers. His side.

The next morning, I proudly presented them with 6 kittens, another FIFTY-FOUR chances to save her life!

His scream echoed around the house “That BLOODY cat!’

Game over.

October 2012