The Chiefest Cat in the World

       *** Kitty could sleep anywhere but liked to have a nap on her humans. It was warmer, and their breath and heartbeat lulled her. And that way, she knew her human was by (or under) her side and wouldn’t get lost. Well, Half-Cat made a poor sleeping mat, for he was too skinny and not very warm, and he slept in such unconventional spaces that Kitty could hardly climb him for a nap. Soap-Smelling was sleeper-friendly; he was wide and soft enough, he was sleeping in a civil bed in a civil way, and he didn’t mind Kitty joining him. But Half-Cat minded. He’d crawl from under Soap-Smelling’s bed, hiss at Kitty that it was his place, and insinuate himself in the bed, which would then be too crowded to Kitty’s liking. Loud-Woman was fine, her breast had convenient soft bumps, and she slept very still when out in the Wild. But in the safe village, she tossed and turned, and Kitty didn’t want to be flattened or kicked out on the floor. Biggest-One was the widest, Kitty could sprawl along or across him with equal comfort and still have enough place for her tail. But the problem was that Loud-Woman appreciated the place too, for sleep or other, much louder follies. Kitty learned the lesson after just one fall from the bed and looked for other night quarters. Grumpy-Glum scratched Kitty’s tummy all right in the daytime or entertained her with a grass ear or anything, and seemed like a good sleeping option. Fat chance. He did let Kitty into his room and onto his bed and stroked her, but then he nearly smothered her, sniffed, and cried into her. Yuck. No, that’s not a proper way to treat the best cat in the world. So, only Long-Braidy and his braid were left as the last resort. Kitty scratched his door and was let in, of course. At first, he hugged Kitty almost like Grumpy did, and smothered his face in her so that she got afraid for her dear fur again and prepared to fight. But Long-Braidy just heaved a long sigh and whispered into her, “What shall I do, Kisa? I want so much to help him, and he doesn’t let me to…” Then he sighed again, then chuckled. “Okay, Kisa, maybe you will help me a bit? Tomorrow.” And he went to sleep at last, and finally Kitty had some well-deserved rest. At least one human was fit for sleeping purposes and vacant. *** Next morning, after Kitty’s second breakfast, Long-Braidy took her up and carried her to the humans’ dining place. Did he want to give her something yummy? That would be nice, and Kitty would sleep only with him from now on. The place was almost empty, just two companies were playing pieces of cardboard (an absolutely boring game, Kitty was not allowed to gnaw at the pieces or drop them from the table), and Grumpy-Glum was finishing his sandwich with tea in the corner. Long-Braidy went straight to him, hopefully to explain to him that Kitty is not a handkerchief. No, of course, Long-Braidy wasn’t that smart. For tail knew what reason, he told Grumpy about long ago, when the team had just picked Kitty up and all six of them had made her portraits, and now only a picture from Grumpy-Glum was missing, and no, it wasn’t necessary to know how to draw, nobody had known back then. And Long-Braidy retrieved pencils and some pieces of paper from a pocket. A neat idea it was with the portrait. It must be some kind of dedication ritual for humans to vow their loyalty to their cat. To encourage Grumpy, Kitty was taking her most elegant poses while sitting on Long-Braidy’s lap, stretching or grooming herself, or gazing philosophically into a window. She got bored pretty soon and tried to roll a pencil off the table, and then Long-Braidy gave her the end of his braid to play with. For the first time, great goodness, it was worth dallying a little longer. What was taking Grumpy so long? In her time, Loud-Woman had been finished with Kitty’s portrait in ten seconds, despite talking to Biggest-One at the same time. And Grumpy was distracted by asking Long-Braidy if, um, Tuuri (that was the human name for Softy-Chatty; humans use their own ill-fitting names) had made a picture too? And was that picture preserved? Long-Braidy forgot to pet Kitty as he hurried to explain that he had taken those pictures with him when the team had abandoned the cat-tank, but now they were left at Long-Braidy’s home, together with the one made by Tuuri, but he’d write to his parents to mail it here, or, rather, to where he would join a military service as a mage, and by the way, what would Onni (he called Grumpy-Glum that) would recommend about enlisting, and Grumpy-Glum got all grumpy and protested that Long-Braidy should go home and not join anything. Kitty nearly fell off Long-Braidy with indignation. What the...?! What did Grumpy think he was, to command her humans to go? They are hers, they should stay with her no matter what! All six of them! She protested aloud and tried to walk away with dignity and leave them to think about their misbehaviour, but her claws caught on Long-Braidy’s silly braid, Kitty tripped, and both humans rushed to unhitch her. But then she walked away anyway. But first, she checked her new portrait. Ahem. Some white-and-orange towel with eyes, and with the end of Long-Braidy’s braid drawn in a top corner. In her personal, individual portrait! Oh, humans... *** Yippie! Kitty’s new pal, the Chiefgull, arrived in the village with his uncountable brethren and his nutso human. Now Kitty had a companion for walks and chats, and duck hunt. Also, she had a question to ask: how did Chiefgull share his human with all the other seagulls? Kitty hated the very idea of sharing her humans with another cat. The answer from Chiefgull knocked her over. The old weird human was the master of all those seagulls, Chiefgull included, and not the other way around. But it was his privilege, the birds regarded all other humans as trespassers. Whew. Not that Kitty was snobbish, but still, it was a relief to know her friend was still higher than almost all humans in the pecking order. But then another terrible idea hit her. What if she belonged to her humans rather than they, to her? No, that’s nonsense. Cat’s pajamas.   One cat ordering six humans around was a natural thing, and six humans owing one cat was, well, unnatural. On the other paw, humans were a bit stupid and could be sincerely mistaken about the true hierarchy. And that would explain their extreme impudence, by the way. Alarmed, Kitty investigated the idle chatter of her humans and discovered, much to her dismay, that they were really thinking they owned her and making their own plans for their lives without her consent! For example, Loud-Woman was sure that since she had paid for the cat academy, Kitty was hers, and she was going to grab Kitty with one hand and Biggest-One with the other hand and go to some place called Norway, with very tall mountains and very numerous giants. Biggest-One would just smirk and offer to visit... some other place first, he used different names unknown to Kitty. Loud-Woman would make pleading eyes at him and ask why, the mountains were splendid, what else could he need? Then she’d call Soap-Smelling for support to confirm they’d go all together. Soap-Smelling would gnaw at a toothpick and ponder aloud that he had promised to visit his cousins first, and then he was intending to get any explosives-related job wherever he’d get personal living quarters because he was sick and tired of sleeping in the field or in barracks. “Right, Lalli?” he asked Half-Cat who nodded without a word but then eyed Grumpy-Glum closely and waited to catch him one on one and ask about the plans, and of course Grumpy would grump that he was not going anywhere and would be fine by himself, and Half-Cat should not worry about him. Then Long-Braidy would come by and ask Grumpy-Glum about the plans again and get the same answers with advice to return home. Long-Braidy would ignore the advice and share his own plans, which were different each time. Once he‘d be going to go with Loud-Woman to kick giants’ butts, next time he’d intend to join some Cleansers with Soap-Smelling and Half-Cat, and yet next time it would be the former military base of Grumpy-Glum… As a result, Kitty started tracking Long-Braidy day and night as the most unreliable and unpredictable of all her humans, so that he didn’t run away. And she thought a lot. How could she explain to these dimwits that they belonged to her? That they shouldn’t scatter like grasshoppers from a jump, but ask her where to go and what to do. And what if they refused to follow her commands when they found out the true state of things? What if they were not truly her humans? In total confusion, Kitty sought advice from her best friend, the tail. She couldn’t catch up with him, though; he chose the worst time to play tag when she needed him so much! But when she stopped chasing him, she understood his wisdom. Her tail was still her friend and subject, even if he misbehaved from time to time, teased her, or let her down. But whenever she walked away, he’d leave everything behind and follow her. So, she had to go away. Then her humans would understand what—or rather, who—was the most important thing for them.