I'm often asked why, since I liked my first cat so much more, I named one of these after my second cat. I actually tested out several names until trying own my cats'. But by then I had a pretty well-developed notion of imaginary Taylor Swift. That's easy to do with no facts to get in the way. After that, pretend Taylor Swift just gave me the nod when the name was right.
I wake to being awkwardly bopped on the head. "Hi Abby, she's coming back today you know". What's that? She is? T is coming home today? I'm so happy I don't even bite stupid Cindy, T's most annoying friend.
Should I wait for T under the chair by the front door? No, too needy. I'll lie down and be cute on the Persian rug in the hall. Yawn, too boring. Maybe I'll hide under the sewing bench. What is this new costume she's making? Ohhh, it feels nice. Uh, oh. Ooops. I know, I'll get one of her shoes. Oh, great, now my fur has dirt on it. Have to really bend my neck to lick it clean. Fwup, kwek, slurp. Was that the ding of the elevator? Wrup, wrup, wrup, almost clean. Is that the door? I hear her! It's T! It's T! T, T, T!
"Oh sweety, you don't have to slide into my feet. Let's get you up here". Rrrrr, rrrrr, rrrrr. Oh, she smells like travel. Oh, her hair tastes so good. Rrrrrr.
"Cindy, could you bring her in?" Hey, what's that? How is stupid Cindy holding me? T's holding me. But I'm also over there. Are there two of me now?
"Abby, this is Chelsea. I found the poor dear backstage in Lisbon". I'm dizzy. I just realized -- that's another cat, in our apartment. "...and I just know you're going to be good friends". Hissss. But wait, T is the prettiest, smartest and wisest person in the world with the most beautiful voice. If she says we'll be friends ... .
Squirm, squirm squirm, plop. "Meio, Chels, come down here. Just claw your way over stupid Cindy's back. She won't mind".
"Give me a second to rub my cheek on T's pumps". Ahhh.
Hmmmm... "all of this shoe talk gives me an idea. Follow me". I saunter over to T's shoe closet, the main one off the dining room. "This is the best place to sleep. Go on, really dig through the shoes to get a nice quiet spot, don't worry about keeping pairs together".
Mmmmm...mmmmm. Whoa, what is that thing? Oh, it's Chels. I thought I dreamed her. Right.
"OK, listen up Chels. T always takes a short nap after she's gone for a long time". "That means we have to jump on her bedside table". Pad, pad, pad ... plomp, Plomp.
T moves a little, she's turning this way. Her eyes are opening, "Now, churn, churn, churn! You take that side. Knock them all off!"
"Oh, you naughty cats ... ouch, and you lost my page. Now I'll never learn the last four ways to know if your cat loves you!"
"Good job Chels. I can never knock off every magazine. Let's reconvene in the laundry room". Some of her fur is messed up. I'll lick it straight. Just a minute longer. Alright, "Now T's going to take a bath. I'll be the decoy. You hide, uh, behind that fern in the basket she got last year in Alberta. Get nice and low". "Here she comes".
Creak, "Abby! Why are you sitting there? You never wait for my baths. Is this your way of apologizing? How..." Now! "Eeeek", crash, "my new slippers!"
"You little devils. I'll get you!"
Morning is almost over. I said goodbye to my favorite ledge-owl -- meiow, meiow, see you tomorrow Owly -- and now I'm bored. Chels is at the vet getting her nails trimmed. T is at her fancy desk, the one I can't disturb her at.
Let's see what she's doing.
Pull the door just a little more open and squeeze. Under the end table, hop, and up and across the top of the sofa. Big jump to the top of the bookshelf. Ooof, need a little extra push with the back legs -- I may have eaten too much of Chels' breakfast. And we're up, and regrouping. Whew. And weave on top between the Grammeys. Aaand feet down, down, big lean, starting to fall, and now the tricky part; I've got to jump onto T's desk without her noticing.
"Well hello Abby. You know you're not supposed to be here".
Oops. But at least T's not calling for stupid Cindy to take me away.
"I suppose as long as you stay over there it's fine". Scribble, scribble, "hey! Move that furry butt off my song!"
T is so wise. Her notepad is the most comfortable place for my backside, and walnut is the best to stretch and hook my claw-tips. So much room. I don't love how T is leaning in, putting her face my airspace, but I'm sure she has a good reason.
"What's a good line? How about 'he put me over the moon'?" Scribble, scribble, shove, shove, ahh! "Watch that tail missy!"
"Let's read that mess back: 'put me over the moose?'. 'The moose?' ... hmmm... it could be about that hunting trip he dragged me on. 'I just want a man who puts me over the moose'. Yes." Fwaap.
Enough is enough. I need more tail room. Maybe a quarter spin ... a little more ... just keep spinning. I'll know when it's right. Faster is better... .
"Well look at you. You're just on a treadmill. Come here. Oh your heart is racing." Mmmmuh. "You know Abby, 'Heart' and 'treadmill' could be something". "'You've put my heart on a treadmill'. That's going in the song".
"But I think you've helped me enough for one day."
"Cindy! I have a job for you".
Oh, no. What did I do to deserve this?
"Seriously, you have to put them back in the carriers after they eat". Stupid Cindy is doing her best to ruin T's dressing room for us. "These two may look sweet, but they'll get up to all sort of havok while T___ is on stage."
"Sure thing Cindy, bye".
Munch, munch; chomp. "So Abby, when do we make a break for it?"
"Not yet Chels. When that one reaches for the blush, rub your check on her hand".
"Eeww, no. She smells like chemicals!"
"Do you want to get out of here? Don't be afraid to get your fur dirty!"
"Awww, Sophie these cats are so sweet. This one loves me".
"Yah, and this one is giving me kisses. Look at the little darlings going to sleep in the makeup chair. Let's just leave them."
Jangle, tink, zip, thunk, click. "Finally! Ack, blark, hoark. My guy's face tasted like ashes!"
"Anyway, with the make-up and hair crew gone Chels, we can look around the walls for a way out. These British stadiums are always unfinished."
"Oh, OK. My, these are silky. Whoa, look -- a hole in the back of the closet." "Let's go!"
It's nice to be exploring with Chels. This hallway is good for racing at full speed. There's cold air coming from those doors. We'll go outside, but later. What's that noise ... trot, trot ... the prop section! All sorts of sparkly tubes and platforms, a perfect place to climb.
Oh, I hear people. That door looks important. Wait, wait ... stalk, and slink, and we're through.
"Uh, Abby? Are all of those people coming this way? And was the door supposed to slam shut behind us?"
"Uh, sure. But run just in case, uh, this way." "Hey, is that T singing?"
"I think so. She sounds almost as good as in the shower." "Huh, now I hear her just talking".
"It seems (muffle, muffle) my cats (muffle) escaped (muffle, muffle) sees them ... ."
Ahh! We're nabbed! Too crowded to jump down. Where are we going? More people, lights. Hey, that's T way over there. Rrawh, do you have to lift us so high?
"They've been found? Come up, let them through. Here... . Could you hold this microphone. I'll trade you."
"Everyone, I am so sorry these trouble-makers ruined the moose song. What do you two furballs have to say for yourselves?" Meio. Mooo?
"That's what I thought. I guess I'll have to keep you right here on stage. Ciin-dee!"
So not only were we back in the carriers, but on the floor, with all these people. It was nice. We love hearing T sing.