Young at Heart

I’m not sure if I mentioned this before or not but living directly next door to me is a cute little old lady, nice as can be and maybe 500 years old. I’m kidding, of course. I have no idea how old she is, she might only be 250 years old for all I know. I’m bad at guessing these things.  I’d be a horrible carnival guess-your-age-and-weight barker. You’re 72 and 300 pounds!  Oh? Really?  25 and 120?  My bad.

But I do know that my lovely neighbor is elderly enough and frail enough that when I don’t see her for a few days, I’m concerned for her wellbeing.

Yesterday evening I saw her meandering up the sidewalk with her cane from wayyyy on the other side of the parking lot where she had parked her car. We spoke and I asked why she parked so far away when there was a spot(s) right up front, where, ahem, my own car was parked.

Welp.

Apparently, she likes to park as far away from our building as she can… she does this everywhere she goes as a means of walking and getting exercise and generally staying healthy. Evidently, she even exercises at home (which explains the catchy old school aerobics music wafting through the building’s foyer).

Meanwhile, my lazy fat ass parks as close as humanly possible to every building I visit to save myself the effort of walking even the smallest distance, or, you know, expending any energy whatsoever.

I think maybe the wrong person is keeping an eye out for the wrong person in this scenario.

 

On Guard

After sharing a day from the life of Holly aka Evil Incarnate aka The Ne’er-do-well, I thought it was only fair to give equal time to the guardian of the house, Rufus.


Dear Diary,

I was a good boy today! I protected the family, and we are all safe, now. Well, let’s start from the beginning. Mom fed me breakfast, and it was delicious! I couldn’t wait to have lunch. And dinner. And breakfast again.

Mom left home, again. So, it was just all the pets and the girl today. It’s not so bad, except for the cats. They’re the worst. I swear… if Shaylee rolls her eyes at me one more time… And don’t even get me started on Holly! She annoys me to no end. No end, I tell you! No matter how much she may have deserved it, I didn’t kill her today, so I think Mom should give me extra points – and treats, for that.

Other good boy things I did today include letting Petra cuddle with me (even though I don’t like it or her), leaving mom a present in her sleeping spot, and not peeing in the house.

I always leave my favorite chew toy in Mom’s bed under the covers while she’s at work. I make sure that it’s all nice and slobbery and chewed too.  That way, she’ll come home and see that I protected her spot all day and that I was thinking of her.  I’m a good boy. Mom never seems happy to find my chew toy, especially if she gets into her spot before finding it. She makes an odd noise when that happens. Sort of sounds like Petra before she throws up in a shoe. I don’t understand why Mom doesn’t always appreciate all the things I do for her. I know she loves me though, that much is very clear, so that makes me happy. And she feeds me breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. And breakfast again. I wonder when I’ll get a treat. I haven’t had one for a long time, at least an hour.

I also tried to teach Petra the importance of protecting hearth and home. There are monsters all around us.  Outside. Above. Today I saved our girl from a FEROCIOUS lizard that dared to crawl onto our patio! I might not have been able to get at him, but I did give him a stern talking to through the patio door and he was duly frightened and chagrined at his transgression. The girl didn’t seem too impressed, but I did my duty regardless of her disdain. I am a good loyal boy.

But that Petra… I just don’t know what I’m going to do with her. I tried to teach her how to bark at the people in the parking lot across the way. We need to tell them to stay away. Petra just doesn’t take her job seriously. She doesn’t know what it means to be the protector of the family. Not like I do.

Before Mom comes home, I always sniff under the front door to see if she’s close. Today, I got nothing. She must have been very far away. I wonder where she goes every day. Anyway, I took a nap so that I could be at my best before she came home. And I was.

Today was a great day. I can’t wait for tomorrow!

Sincerely,

Rufus

 

A Day in the Life of Evil

It is sunrise time, and the humans have not yet risen. Typical. They are all so lazy.

I must wake them. Apparently, no one in this house, except me, knows when feeding time is. I don’t care if there is food left down for me 24/7… I want the good stuff, the wet food.

As I stretch my slender body, preparing to wake my human, I see movement out of the corner of my eye… who is it? Shaylee. Best to pretend I didn’t notice. She is the eldest feline and owns most of the living quarters. She prefers space.

Climbing on top of my human, I ask her softly to wake up… meow. I sit.

I should be gentle with this one since she might give me treats later. To her credit, she does give me treats several times a day… just not nearly as many as I deserve. Perhaps I must command her better.

How does she not notice me sitting on top of her? MeOW. Are her eyes open? I cock my head, the universal signal of what? and squint my eyes. MEOOW. Awake human!

It’s no use. This one is destined to sleep. And on my pillow, nonetheless. Rude. I jump off the bed and head towards the servant’s sleeping quarters. Where are those pesky dogs? They’re usually hanging around the servant like the groveling creatures they are. I flick my tail around, as a signal not to mess with me, just in case they can see.

The naked dog, Rufus, has no respect which is annoying. But the shaky white dog, Petra, likes to bark. And if the servant wakes to a cacophony of barking, it’s not a good day for any of us. Even I know that. So, I avoid them as I enter. There was no need. They’re too stupid to even notice me.

Of course, my servant is fast asleep still, too. So useless. Maybe I’ll rummage around on the bedside table before I wake her. Yes, I think I will. There’s barely any space up here to land, so I inevitably push some things to the side. Welp. There goes something that looked important. That’s what she gets for putting things on my table.

If this servant were better, she would remove some of these bizarre toys to give me more space. I bat around a funny white container that makes a satisfyingly loud noise when it rolls around. Like there are tiny pebbles inside. Strange.

The servant dislikes it when I play with her things, so I make sure to leave an obvious mark that I was here. What else can I touch? I scratch myself on the lamp while I look around. Hm. I think I’m done. On to the servant.

I take a flying leap from the table and land squarely onto her chest.  MRRREEEOOOOWW.

This one does not need a gentle wake up.

Yes, servant. It is feeding time. Do I have to tell you every day?

“Holly, okay. I’m up. Sheesh.” The servant acknowledges me and rises. Good. She feeds me, but she is also quite annoying. She stopped getting the good food, and now I’m left eating mediocre food. Unacceptable.

I will drown her favorite items later to show my dissatisfaction. Although, in an unusual moment of intelligence, the servant moved the water bowl recently, making it increasingly difficult to drown her beloved things. I will simply have to steal more. Where there’s a will, there’s a way, I say.

. . . . . . . . . . 

Unlike the servant, the small human, that is, my human, has been performing adequately, but I fear the quality of her service may be declining. I shall test her. I yowl loudly, as if in distress, just to see if she is paying attention.

She is slow in responding. Duly noted.

I think I will torment the rest of the creatures in the house, now. Where is that little white dog? Ah, of course. Hiding again. I could crawl in after her, but then she would just scream which, apparently, upsets the servant. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t care, but I saw a familiar can of tuna when I was going through the pantry earlier. And a pissed off servant means no tuna for dinner.

Moving on.

The bald dog needs to be taught a lesson. It does not appreciate me and Shaylee for the Goddesses that we are. I sneak up on the little dog… and pounce! Hah!

Unlike the shaky white dog, he is not afraid.  In fact, he’s quite testy. He runs at me, so I flee. I need to get away, but where? The bookshelf! I jump up just in time. Looking at the little dog on the ground, I realize I barely made it. That was a close one. I collect myself, cleaning my paws and fur, while the angry little bald dog paces out of reach.

I scale the shelves up to the highest point. This is the best place for plotting. Should I torment Shaylee next? No. That would be a mistake. A big mistake.

What I could use right now is a snack. Hmmm… how shall I steal more treats? After my last raid, the servant installed some high-tech sealing machines, so I cannot open the cabinets anymore. I’m this close to figuring out those feline locks, and when I do… oh, I will feast!

What shall I do once I tire of drowning the human’s objects? Perhaps I’ll plot the demise of the world as we know it. All these creatures, so unsuspecting. Playing with their little objects. I will drown them all. The thought makes me very happy and I purr softly.

I hear them talking as they gaze up at me …

“Hey, Mom? What do you think Holly’s doing up there?”

“Being suspicious.”