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 out my cats'. 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. Then if felt as if the two of us were picking out cat names.
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 in 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.
Walk day! I like to sit at the front door early so she doesn't forget. I've been slowly cleaning my claws. I'm on my back with my left rear leg stretched out when I hear Cindy's gross chunky heels clomp clomping. I turn my head slightly. Oof, she's wearing that ugly sun hat, but she's got my leash. About time.
Behind her is Chelsea, with a toy in her mouth. I should say something. "Uh, Chels. I see you brought ... oh, it's my old leash".
"Mmmph, mmph, mmph, ptah". Clunk. The leash lands at Cindy's feet. "Hi Abby. No, this is my leash until I pick a new one". Why would Chelsea need a leash? Unless, unless ... .
Chelsea noses the leash a bit, "Can you believe Cindy wanted to walk us seperately?"
I prepare to hiss at Cindy, but wait, is she on my side here? "You ... she ... ". I start again "Maybe she thought, that, uh ... ."
Chelsea hangs her head, "I know what you're going to say and it's true. When Cindy asked if I wanted to go, I ran under a chair. I planned to hide all day. But then I realized I can't let you down, scared or not".
This is happening too fast. Can I save my solo walk? "Well, if you wanted to skip just once ...", Chels is looking even sadder, "...then you'd be missing out on a great time! Let's go!"
"Mieo!" Chels jumps up and jams her head against the leash. I would tell her to sit still, but watching Cindy get the leash all tangled up as Chelsea twirls around is just too funny. Finally we're both leashed and ready to go. I put my paw on hers: "just do what I do and you'll be fine".
It's a short walk to the elevator. It's empty, but the button for 5 is lit. I motion for Chels to stay as the doors open. Hmmm ... no one gets on. We reach 1 and I lead the trot out, turning right and down the hallway. The ferns in the lobby smell the same, except for that one. I'll recheck it on the way back. We slink past the door-person and are out on the bright sunny sidewalk.
Oh, no. Standing just over there is Karla. She's not the problem. That thing on the end of her leash is.
"Chels, that person is Karla. And the cat with the pretentious tuxedo ... that's Isis."
Maybe I should have been more clear about our opinion of Isis, since Chelsea says, "I think her fur's pretty. And isn't your fur ..."
Raio! This is not going well. "Maybe it's not the fur Chels, but just look at her sneaky face".
Chels leans forward and stares at Isis's profile. "I see a long, square, aristocratic nose, and ...".
I am not going to let this ruin my walk. "Whatever. You'll see." By now Cindy and Karla have seen each other and have stopped to talk. Ug.
After a few minutes, the three of us cats just sitting there, I can't take it: "Hi, Isis. Not pleased to meet you."
Isis turns just her head, barely, like she's better than us. "Hello to yourself Abby". She notices Chels, "and this must be the new cat."
I'm getting flustered, "ummm, yes, the new cat ... this is Chels. Chels, Isis."
Isis adjusts herself to face Chels, which is fine with me. "Chels? It that short for anything? Like Chelsea?"
"...". Chels's tail twitches. "Meio".
"I'll take that for a yes. Hello Chelsea. How are you liking the neighborhood?"
"Myuh". Chels chomps on a stray blade of grass. What is going on with her? I decide to wait on the far end of my leash, out of earshot of both conversations.
Finally Cindy and Karla step apart: "Cindy, I can take Chelsea if you like".
"No, that's fine. Ready guys?" drag, drag, drag. "On second thought Karla, maybe leaving Chelsea with you is best".
I never imagined it, but I'm glad to have Cindy all to myself. We walk up the sidewalk, past the hotdog stand. We wait at the crosswalk to the park. "Don't Walk", sitting, sitting, sitting, "Walk", still sitting, sitting, sitting, "Don't Walk". Cindy pulls out her cell phone. "Hi. Yeah, I can talk. The cat's in a mood. Once she decides not to cross I've got at least 5 minutes. Did you like ...".
I stand up so stupid Cindy can pick me up while we cross. "Uggg. I'll call you back".
The park has birds, kids, leaves, grasshoppers ... . Ah, there's the table. Hop, clunk, clunk. "Hey there Abby. Here to help me win? If so, knocking over my rook isn't the best way". I will allow myself to be petted, briefly, but any pieces moved by my tail must stay where they are.
Coming out of the south end of the park, I see someone at an outdoor cafe. Time to torture Cindy. I hop up and start spinning. "Hey! Get off my laptop. Oh, it's you Abby". He looks at the other end of my leash and gets that creepy smile.
"Well hi Cindy."
"Hello ... Steeeve".
"You know Cindy, just because our employers broke up doesn't mean we had to. Or we can at least still be friends and see where it goes".
"We were never friends, Steve".
Am I getting a tiny bit of respect for Cindy? Do I feel a little guiltly? Either way, I hop down, being sure to mash a few keys, and drag Cindy away to continue our walk. "Meio". Meio means go.
I feel like I've earned a stress-free walk back home. The bookstore, my trees, the cake place by that little fountain, the long tan Rococo building with the extra warm sidewalk. Finally around the last corner home, to ... oh, no. Karla is sitting down, and Chels and Isis are ... still talking?
I pad up to rescue her: "Chels, what were you two talking about all this time?"
"Meio, uh, nothing".
Isis interrupts, "Chelsea, don't sell yourself short. We had a very nice conversation".
"Meio". She chomps at that grass blade again. What has gotten into Chels?
Cindy takes back Chelsea's leash: "Karla, thanks for holding onto this one. She's not normally so shy."
"No problem. Isis is acting odd as well".
We've almost escaped when Isis butts back in, "Good-bye, Chelsea. I look forward to seeing you again".
"Bye ... Isis." Purr. Purr.
Are we done? Then Isis turns to me, "Good bye Abby".
"..."
"..."
"..."
Chels is giving me another disappointed look. Fine, whatever, "Bye, Isis".
Oh no! I know those footsteps, that suit smell. It's the lawyers! I've got to prepare Chels. Where is she, front closet? Behind the curtains? The door's opening. I hear a scruffle, it's too late! Chelsea is staring down from the top of the front bookcase, the one with the scarves and gloves. She's seen them first!
T throws on a mid-thigh black jacket with a belt tie, grabs one of us in each hand and follows out the lawyers. Trying to wriggle from under T's arm, Chelsea meios "Abby? What is this?"
"So sorry. I'll explain as we go. Stay calm. T would never hurt us ... on purpose".
I'm screwing this up. Chels is starting to panic. "Look, the important thing is that T needs us now". That calms her, but only a little.
The car ride is tense. T dropped us in the back seat. Papers are shuffling, T nods and murmurs back at the lawyers.
"Are we safe?" Chels asks.
"No". Chels pushes as far back into the seat as she can. "No, no ... I mean we haven't started yet". Now she's jamming herself down between the door and seat. "Look, this is tough for T too. We're going somewhere and ... I won't lie ... ". Great, now I'm scaring myself, but finally I remember what to say, "this is important. It's what makes us special". Hearing this, Chels stops clawing at the upholstry, which is better than I did my first time.
The car stops and we're grabbed again. We're carried through an old building up to a funny-smelling office with even more of those lawyers next to a person who clearly upsets T to see again. We're plopped on either side of her, in front of the big desk. Chels looks at me but I look away. I can't bear to tell her it still hasn't started.
They start talking and rustling more papers, then it starts. T's hands heavily drop on our heads. She squeezes and pulls my fur going down my neck. I look over at Chelsea. She's doing well. More talking, something about irreconcilable detergents, and T has squeezed all the way down my body, to my tail, oww, owww, yanking on the tip, and I flick it out of her grasp. I look over at Chelsea, about to relax, and give a sideways headshake -- nope, there's more -- just as T's hands smack down on our heads again, her rigid fingers smushing our ears this time, clawing down our necks and backs, right back through the tail.
Finally there's a paper she has to sign. Chelsea is about to make a break for it and I whisper "she still needs us", even through I myself was eying a safe spot behind the big debate trophy. Another paper, another, ... the waiting is almost worse. Owww, she's somehow crushing my ears and whiskers at the same time. There's something about "division of communal property" and she squeezes hard around my ribs. Gah! Chels can see I'm just as scared as she is, but that seems to keep her from going completely berserk. She's halfway down our tails when the other man says "maybe we should give it one more chance?" Ow, ow, ow, we're actually being pulled backwards by our tails. I can't help trying to madly flick my tail out of her grip.
There's more talking, more signing, her anger pets still hurt, not as much, but the signing breaks aren't long enough to recover. After what seems like forever, the petting stops. Her people put away papers, we're scooped up and carried back to the car.
As we leave the block, T seems to see us again. She pulls us to her sides. "Thanks guys. I guess I got a little emotional in there, didn't I". She gives Chels a gentle scratch under the chin, and me just one finger from the back of my nose to above my eyes. Purrr. "The fish market?" she asks.
Chels looks across at me, "we don't do it for the fish, do we?"
I look at her with pride. "No", I say, "we don't. But the mackerel is very good".