“Oh, now you have time for me?” he growled.
“I always have time for you,” she said, giving him treats.
“All you’ve done lately is play with those fuzzy, feathered, chicklets. I don’t get it.”
“They were having a party. I was…helping them.”
“They aren’t real. I am.”
“Are you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I can bite you, can they peck you?”
“They would never do that.”
“It’s not a matter of whether or not they would, it’s a matter of whether or not they could?”
“I’m not sure they aren’t as real as you are. And, they’re nice and sweet.”
“And I’m not?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
“No. That’s what you heard, that’s not what I said.”
“Did too.”
“I think, somewhere, the chicklets really live at The Coop.”
“You need more help than I can give you.”
“Hey, we make life up, so what’s the difference?”
“What am I eating here. What is this?”
“Um,” she muttered, looking at the label. “Something good for you.”
“That’s what I thought. It tastes like wet cardboard.”
“What have you ever eaten wet cardboard?”
“Not the point.”
“I think it is.”
“You’re wrong. Again. Or should I say always.”
“Did someone step on your tail? Is that why you’re being so…mean?”
“Me? I’m not being mean. I’m merely pointing out the truth.”
“You mean your truth.”
“What other king of truth is there? We all have our own truth, don’t we?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Then what are we talking about?”
“I have no idea.”
“If I could laugh, I would, so assume that I’m doing so.”
She started chuckling. “You’re pretty funny.”
“I know.”
“What would you like for Catmas…and don’t say a live hamster.”
“I’m making a list.”
“Make one for everyone,” she said.
“I am.”
“We’ll have a big party and everyone can stay overnight, if they like.”
“Sounds good.”
“How’s Jinx? I haven’t seen him in awhile.”
“He met someone and he’s all…gak…crazy about her. She’s a gray tabby. Her name is Sandra.”
“I had a cousin named Sandra.”
“Is it fair to assume she wasn’t a gray cat.”
“Yes. It is.”
“Don’t bring that food anymore, okay? It’s terrible. Taste it, if you don’t believe me.”
“I’d rather not, but I won’t bring it again.”
“Why is it that I eat your food, but you never eat mine?” he asked, swatting at a bug.
“I’m too tired to talk about this. You take a nap and I’ll go home and see all of you tonight, okay?”
“Sure.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
She kissed him and gave him pets. “Sweet dreams,” she whispered.
“Be careful crossing the street,” he mumbled, covering his nose with his paw.
She kissed him again, rubbed his ears, then walked away.
Rethinking Life 
Comments on: "The Conversation…" (8)
you DID imply it 😉
but that’s OK, pets often ARE a bit hussies, not only cats but dogs too (from what I hear again and again). It’s probably because cats think they are superior…
but don’t let them trample over you; YOU buy their food, their treats, give them heated pads and shelter!
LOL I would do anything for her. 🙂 She’s a fabulous cat.
Tastes like wet cardboard. Can’t win them all, eh? 🙂
Isn’t that the truth. She just looks at me until I go back in the house and come out with something different. It doesn’t happen often, because I always give her what she wants. 🙂 Have I mentioned how much I DISLIKE the cold weather. Argggggg.
LOL! I realised after that The Conversation might be with a male cat but it is really your Garden Cat as I like to call her.
Oh dear. You’re in Chicago and you’ve quite a few months ahead of you…
Quite a few months, that can sometimes seem like years. No the conversations are not with Emily. She’s such a sweetheart.
Yes Emily, your garden cat. 😊 I love them.
She is and she loves it. However, it’s already below freezing at night. It’s been in the low to middle 20s. Blah.