The Conversation…

Cat, Relax, Chill Out, Camacho

“Do you people EVER stop talking?” asked the cat.  “You go on and on and on, saying the same thing over and over again.  Then you try and say it in different ways, but it’s still the SAME stuff.”

“Well, it’s hard to fill up a thousand channels with twenty-four hour news.”

“How can you stand it?”

“I turn it off.”

“They get one new fact and then talk about it for days, adding it to the other news they’ve talked about until people are numb.”

“They have to talk about something, and new people are listening all the time, so…”

“How do you like the snow?” he asked.

“It’s pretty.”

“It’s slippery.  People fall and break things and there’s no room at the hospitals.”

“Are you going to be depressing the whole time I’m here?”

“I don’t know,” said the cat.  “How long do you plan on staying?”

“Not long, if you keep talking about icky stuff.”

“By icky stuff I assume you mean the world your kind made, right?”

“Right.”

“Did you bring a hamster for me?”

“Arggg!  Don’t start.  I’m never bringing you live animals, or birds, or fish.”

“I thought maybe you changed your mind.”

“I will NEVER change my mind,” she said.  “You KNOW that.”

“If you wanted a hamster, I’d try and find one for you,” he said, grinning.

“Cut it out.  Cats can’t grin.  You don’t have the facial muscles to do it.”

“Someone should have told me,” he snickered.

“You can’t snicker either.”

“Really? I thought I could.”

“I feel as if we’re on the brink of either extinction, or a gigantic house cleaning.”

“Which ever it is, please don’t take the rest of us with you.  I think you’ve killed enough innocents, don’t you?”

“Earth is the real DEATH STAR.”

“You’re a Trekkie, what do you know about the Death Star?” he asked.

She shrugged.  “Nothing, actually.  It just sounds right, I guess I should call it the Death Planet, or Death Earth.”

“That does sound better,” he said, biting on a claw.  “Death is what this place is all about.  You think of death as the ending of life, but it’s more than that.  You kill creativity, spirit, hope, equality, justice,  and…”

“I get it.”

“I don’t think you do,” he said.  “You kill the will to live.  You kill joy and beauty.  You kill everything.  And, the weird thing is, you don’t have to do any of it.  It’s a choice your species makes.  You enjoy killing, so that’s what you do.  Actually, it’s more like those who don’t want to kill, don’t stop those who do the killing.”

“Why do I come to see you?  You always make me feel worse.”

“You come here because you love me and because I tell you the truth.”

“You’re right,” she sighed.

“I’m always right.  I’m a cat.  Cats are never wrong.  Besides, you like cats more than you like people, and you like me better than all the other cats in the world.”

“While I don’t really know all the cats in the world, you are my favorite cat out of those I do know.  Kindred spirits?” she asked.

“Something like that,” he said.  “More treats please.”

“It said on the package you’re only supposed to have a certain amount a day.”

“Really?  That’s what you’re telling me?  I can’t have food because someone said so on the back of a bag?”

“You’re right,” she sighed, putting more treats down in front of him.

“Do they put how many donuts you can eat on the side of the box you always buy?  If they DID, would you only eat what they told you to eat?”

“I said you were right, didn’t I?”

“You’re all just like your government.  You control what your companion animals eat, where they sit, sleep, when they go out…  Everything revolves around you.  You are in complete CONTROL of other beings.  YOU don’t like being controlled, you just don’t have a problem controlling others.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.  Seriously.”

“What’s the alternative?  We try and keep you healthy and safe.”

“You say bad dog and bad cat, but no one seems to say bad person.  Get it.  Government control, same thing.  You all have your own little country in your living spaces.  Trickle down, baby, trickle down.”

“Baby?”

“I heard someone say it.”

“Please don’t ever say it again and most people would do anything for their beloved animal friends.  Anything.”

“I know that.  I was just making a point about freedom.  Pointing out that you control the lives of others, but don’t like it when there are controls over you.”

“That is a twisted argument.”

“It’s not an argument, it’s a debate, and it’s only twisted to you because you think you’re right, and because you aren’t mean.”

“I’m not mean?”

“No,” said the cat.  “You’re not.”

“Thank you.”

“You do realize the far right wing fanatics will continue to recruit others and keep the violence going, don’t you?  They think they won, because they made people hide and got inside the building and hurt people, broke things, and also because they’re insane.”

“Couldn’t just let it go with a compliment, could you,” she sighed. leaning back, closing her eyes.

“Gotta keep you on your toes.”

“I love you,” she said.  “I’m going to kiss you and pet you and go home.  If I’m lucky, I won’t fall asleep before I get there.”

“I can walk you home, if you don’t think you can make it.”

She bent forward and kiss him again and again.”

“Enough already.  What’s your problem?” he said, licking his shoulder.

“Thank you. Your offer to walk me home is the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in a very long time.”

“Then you’re hanging around with the wrong people.”

“I think you’re right,” she said, kissing him one last time.

“Be careful.  It’s dangerous out there,” he said, as she stood to go.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Whatever,” he said.

She turned and walked away.

Jinx came out from under the bush.  “Should I follower her home?”

“Yes.  Make sure she gets inside.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

This entry was posted in The Conversation and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to The Conversation…

  1. Kritika says:

    Love the conversation always. I am in love with cats.

  2. Resa says:

    So sweet, and Jinx is a god cat!

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