The Chiefest Cat in the World

       *** Kitty’s humans were nice, of course, but with minor lapses. Now their number was even, and they were disintegrating into pairs rather than following her and paying attention to her. She might put up with Soap-Smelling, he was always paying equal attention to Half-Cat and to Kitty, treating Half-Cat with tidbits, cleaning him in the funny manner of humans—mind you, they couldn’t lick themselves, they had to use abhorrent water or a teethed piece named a comb. Soap-Smelling was combing Kitty too, and it was quite nice. And Loud-Woman was walking with Biggest-One. She’d take Kitty with them, put her on her shoulder if the ground was wet, but then she’d only look and purr at Biggest-One. And Long-Braidy, usually he‘d always pick Kitty up to pet her to atone for his one large blunder with the ‘dog’ thing. And now he was mostly chasing Grumpy-Glum as if he were Grumpy’s tail. Maybe six was not a lucky number. In the very beginning, the sixth had been Softy-Chatty, she had been always staying with Kitty in the crawling metal box until once she smelled like a Monster, and had given Kitty creeps like a Monster. Kitty had been all confused and hadn’t known what to do, but then Softy-Chatty had disappeared and spared her the troubles. It’s a pity, though. It had been so soft, warm, and cosy in Softy-Chatty’s lap… So, humans were not extremely reliable. They could come and go even if they now followed her obediently. And Kitty’s best friend would never abandon her. Kitty’s best friend was playing tag with Kitty when she was bored and hugging and warming her when she slept or meditated. Even when he disagreed with Kitty, he never went too far; he was darting back and forth around her. Sure, he had some quirks, like, he hated being combed by Soap-Smelling, and would try to escape and pull Kitty away, and Kitty liked combing! To please him, she explained to Soap-Smelling with a paw gesture that he shouldn’t touch her friend. Her friend studied at the Cat Academy with her and also learned to bristle and point when detecting a Monster. But he was terrible at hunting ducks; he’d dash around Kitty and reveal her whereabouts and intentions to the stupid birds. Stupid. Later, she’d punch him in the head. Or whatever he had as a head. He was her tail, after all. *** Humans didn’t have tails; maybe that’s why they liked to go in pairs—to serve as tails to each other. Biggest-One was Loud-Woman’s tail. Soap-Smelling was Half-Cat’s tail, but sometimes both couples swapped roles. And only Long-Braidy was always following Grump, and never the other way around. Maybe that’s because Long-Braidy has his braid, which is a tail of sorts, and unlike cats, humans shouldn’t have more than one follower. Well, his braid looked like a tail but behaved like a… an antitail; it didn’t mind being combed but didn’t like playing; Long-Braidy didn’t play with it himself and wouldn’t let Kitty catch it. *** To give her tail a break and spare its fur, Kitty used other toys. Such as moss, for example. It’s a totally pleasant thing to walk on. It’s low and didn’t catch on Kitty’s whiskers, as grass would do. It’s lumpy and funny to hurl in the air or to tear a large lump into bits and feel like winning over a Monster. There were no Monsters at the village island where Kitty and her humans stayed for vacation after the trip to a Wild Forest, but it did have warm houses, burgers, free time, and some moss. Not much, and hard to get. Kitty punched a dry green lump, caught it, and nearly fell off a bank along a house wall. The moss did fall all the way down. No, she felt too lazy to get down and fetch it from the cold ground. While she was pulling a new lump out of the wall, one of her humans, Biggest-One, came by, but instead of helping her, he picked Kitty up and told her off. “What are you doing, Missekat? Why are you dismantling the heat insulation of someone else’s house? Let’s disappear from the scene before anyone sees your shenanigans.” Then he pushed the moss deeper under the bank and carried Kitty away. She tried to wriggle out, but breaking away from Biggest-One was never a good idea. How dared he, really! *** Kitty found a new toy. It was a ring of plaited grass with small flowers, the size of her head or slightly bigger, it was very light and flew very far with a delicious rustle when Kitty pawed it. And it fit under any cupboard or wardrobe, and it was very challenging and interesting to pry it from under there. A perfect mouse-hunt simulator. It was, until another Kitty’s human came by, Soap-Smelling. He had always been gentle and polite with Kitty, and now he screeched at once, “What the fleck are you doing, Kissekatt? It’s a gift from Lalli!” And he snatched the toy from Kitty and then hid it inside his coat for good. Oh, had it been Half-Cat’s toy? Then, sure, it must be returned, no cat likes their toys to be mauled by others. On the other paw, Kitty didn’t remember Half-Cat playing with that very piece of straw, his favourite was a square, checkered, hard piece smelling of ruins. It didn’t roll well, and Kitty couldn’t fathom what’s so interesting about shifting pieces of the thing; it must be something human. Anyway, Soap-Smelling had no right to steal toys from Kitty! *** The door was closed tightly and too heavy for Kitty alone. She couldn’t hook it from below or aside, there were no gaps. And it wouldn’t open when she pushed it with all her weight. Okay, she had one more trick for the doors opening inside: to jump up and catch the handle with front paws and to push with a hind paw away from the door frame. It didn’t help this time. And Kitty should open it by all means! Something was rustling, flowing, rattling behind the door, and Kitty was thrashing around the wet doormat in the hall and could not do a thing. So, she came to the really last resort. Her training and pride demanded she find the closest senior human officer and paw his or her pants, but the circumstances were too dire, and Kitty had to use nursery tactics. So she shouted at the top of her lungs. “Help! Alarm! Humans!” Long-Braidy was the first to come, as usual. Good human, clever human, he understood what Kitty wanted from him when she stood up with her front paws on the door to show what she needed from him. Long-Braidy was clever, he understood her right. Behind the door, she found: a porch, one piece, check. Handrails, two sets, check. A path and grass, check, state: bad. Trees further downhill were hardly seen behind a curtain of water running from the skies. Ah, it was just rain… Kitty walked back. The cold wind fanned her behinds. Long-Braidy was still holding the door wide open, and then, of all things, he said, “Kisa, but you wanted to walk?” and held her across the tummy and brought her out to the porch. It was cold there! It was wet there! Kitty darted back indoors and hid under the rack for humans' clothes. Walking, he says! How can one be so stupid? Who would go for a walk in weather like this? Kitty was just checking if the world was in place and all right. *** Now, Soap-Smelling got a nerve. He was bringing yummy treats to Half-Cat more often than to Kitty, which was totally wrong because Kitty was a full-time cat, and Half-Cat, well… just that. And whenever Kitty was asking Soap-Smelling for her share of the treats, he’d go all like, “No, Kissekatt, it is too sweet and not good for you.” And of course, it was no use demanding her due share from Half-Cat. He’d growl in cat language that it’s his food, and he was too alert to steal the treats from him. Okay, Kitty thought as she saw Soap-Smelling coming with another paper bag in hands, let’s get dangerous. She glanced back at her tail. He didn’t mind. Then she ran to the sleeping-house porch to intercept the treats, sprawled across the passage with her tummy up, and curled her front paws. Soap-Smelling had no chance. He cooed and leaned down to pat her, forgetting about his sweet-smelling package. The bag tilted, too, and a couple of cookies escaped right onto Kitty. She had to just snatch the trophy and dart away. And she ran, chased by curses and shouts like “stop!” and “it’s lemon cookies!” Sure, he had no chance to catch the most agile cat in the world. Behind the corner, Kitty hid in the honeysuckle bush while Soap-Smelling stomped by. Alright, now she could enjoy her due in peace. The cookie’s crust was sweet and crunchy, with something soft insi— yuck! Kitty spat out a bit of perfect crust and a disgusting, sour, stinky yellow filling! Its taste clung no matter what, and even chewing on some wilted leaf could not erase it. Of course, Soap-Smelling found Kitty when she was trying to bury that abomination. “I told you. You won’t like it. My uncle’s cat, Bosse, was always crunching its nose when kids were trying to feed lemon biscuits to it. And now you’ve spoiled a perfectly good cookie, and it is expensive, by the way!” He just wouldn’t stop rambling. Then he picked up the broken cookie out of the dry leaves. “Though… Ah, Lalli will eat it anyway.” He smiled, wiped the cookie by his sleeve, and shoved it back into the paper bag. Kitty was offended up to her ears by all sorts of deception. She had thought Half-Cat liked the same food as normal cats. Yet even if he had a shiny shadow in the form of a large cat, he still had a body, two legs, two hands, and no tail. And human tastes. The more vexing it was to share Soap-Smelling with him. Kitty ran to the rain barrel to wash the hideous taste away. Positively, she should do something to make her humans behave.