Getting To Know You—Later

Crawling out of that carrier was one of the scariest things I’ve ever had to do. I mean, I wasn’t silly-scared like Sara gets. I didn’t slink off like she did, either. She resembled a low-rolling, white-with-gray-patches cloud.

What? Clamp your mouth shut, Sister. I’m telling this, and the way I saw it you were so low to the floor I couldn’t even see your feet. I just knew you were revving up your engine and making dust.

Huh? Oh, it’s something I’ve always wanted to say since I heard it on TV. Well, no, it isn’t very cat-like, but the world can’t think in feline terms. They have to communicate in simpler ideas.

Like I was saying before the oldster interrupted me, we set out to inspect our surroundings, moving in different directions. We may have the same mother but Sara’s older by three months and limited in her ability to face change; I knew she was only sniffing out a place to hide.

The first thing I noticed was, just to get away from the carrier, I had to leap over a pile of books and then worm my way past a box. Right away I knew that was too different. Before, the floor space was completely empty of anything but furniture so that our human could get around with her metal cage. Using my superior intellect, I deduced this human didn’t need those shiny, extra legs.

Okay, good. We wouldn’t have to dodge them to keep from getting whacked, or worse, knocking this person over. Being a senior she could really be hurt, like when our sweet human broke her hip and needed help, and we couldn’t do it.

I knew I needed to get to work on training the new human. You know the old saying: Begin the way you mean to go. But there was a more important aspect: Know your enemy. Since Sara was looking for a hide-y hole, it was up to me to learn all I could. And fast.

So I was kinda walking with my sensitive nose to the carpet, sniffing out the possibilities. When, what do you know, I found was an interesting place on the floor. Hmm, another feline?

The scent was so faint I was positive the cat was long gone. Good, good. We wouldn’t have to deal with staking our claim or facing down some old curmudgeon.

“So, Sara,” I meowed loudly—but daintily, “I’ve learned there’s no metal legs and no other animals. What have you found?” I paused. “Sara?”

I panicked! What if she’d been gobbled up by a monster? That would be a cat-ass-trophe beyond the imagination!

“Sara!” I hurried into the room with table and chairs. “Sar-ra.”

I heard a faint mmmph. Up. I looked up at one of the chairs pushed under the table, and then I stomped over, reached out and swatted her on the head. How dare she have the nerve to crawl up there and go to sleep.

How dare I expect anything else. Aren’t I the one who calls her “scaredy cat?” Yeah, and I’m the one who knows sleep is her escape from reality she can’t face. I sighed.

Oh, oh. Footsteps. I leaped gracefully out from under the table and proceeded to wash nonchalantly so I wouldn’t tip off Sara’s hiding place. I might be disgusted with her, but we had to stick together.

After all, it was HER against us.