The Feline Mystique

The other day I awoke at around three in the morning.

I had fallen into a coma during the election coverage and all the lights were still on around me. 

On the TV, now way too loud for that wee hour of the morning, was an infomercial for a device that appeared to cut hair, raise your testosterone level and make pancakes all at the same time.

In the room were five cats all sitting close by and intently staring at me. They appeared to be awaiting instruction thus confirming my suspicion that they consider me their leader. Once I lifted myself out of the recliner, they all followed me up the stairs in a very orderly fashion.

It seemed pretty obvious they were expecting an assigment.

Since I'd neglected to buy milk for Seth's morning cereal and had been fretting about it, I decided I would ask the cats to somehow make sure there was a carton of 1% at the ready despite my forgetfulness. They were still staring so I gave them their instructions and staggered off to bed.

Fast forward to the morning. Seth has gone off to work and I stumble into the kitchen, open the fridge and to my amazement, there is a carton of milk and a used cereal bowl and spoon in the sink.

 

I turn and look at Buzzy who is curled up in his box but looking at me intently with one eye. Then I notice Elfie and Fritzi staring at me from the hallway. Nifi and Charlie's cat, Tito are sitting by the door. They are all staring. "Wow," I say to them all. Thank you! I can't believe you guys actually did it!"

I sat for a few minutes to contemplate this turn of events. Not only was this seriously convenient (I would no longer have to do my own grocery shopping) but, depending on how much they were capable of, I could use them to bedevil people I don't like (Rachel Maddow, in case you were wondering) plus maybe a little light cleaning.

 

Just as I was about to call Seth to tell him the cats were magic, I noticed their bowl of food was empty. Hmmm. This might explain why they were clustered around my chair last night and all the crazy staring but, nonetheless, I dialed Seth and explained the amazing appearance of a carton of milk in the fridge where there had been none.

"The cats are not magic, Susan Says..." said Seth in the same tired tone he'd used when I'd insisted I could now speak French since I'd fluently done so in a dream. "I bought it on my way home last night." 

The cats may not have put the milk in there but je pense toujours que les chats sont magiques. Comprenez? *

*I actually think I may have dreamed most of this, too.