Boy, are my parents in a state. I hear them calling, “Loulou, Loulou, Loulou, where are you?” Heh, heh, where, indeed?
It’s time for their siesta and they want me in the house for that hour—not out wandering around looking for ways to get out of this garden, which I wouldn’t do anyway because I know where my kibble is buttered, not to mention that nice, comfy place where I sleep each night protected by mama’s knees and which I would not give up for a whole roast chicken, not on your life.
But there they go again—”Loulou, Loulou,” they cry, now with a little panic thrown in and then mama starts doing her click, click, clicks with her mouth because she has trained me that it means “come get your breakfast” but now it’s lunchtime and I know I’m not getting breakfast but she clicks and clicks and papa is running around all over the house, looking under beds, looking in closets, turning over sofa cushions and even he can’t find me and he is never in a panic over my disappearance and always says, “Oh, she’s around here somewhere”, which I always am, but do I want them to know it? No way—especially when they haven’t let me have my lunch because they’re happy that I’m sleek and snazzy now instead of chubby-wubby as before.
So then the clicks get to me and I think, “Hey, maybe just a little morsel or two in my future” so when mama has looked over all the fences between her and that Unknown Land Into Which I Should Not Go, Ever, and when she has completely given up and plans to spend her afternoon combing the neighborhood in a neurotic panic—out I saunter, cool as a lettuce slug (which I have been examining under the lavender, my favorite snoozing place) and she is so, so happy that she gives me a nice little spoon of chicken good-for-the-kidneys kibble and mama and papa have a little upset over where I was and who told who what about finding me and I learn that papa was actually really worried for my personal safety and that’s sort of rare because he has utter faith in my return from wherever it is I disappear to, and, in fact, he’s right.
I’ll bet there are many, many kitties out there who disappear just to taunt and tantalize and (excuse the expression) ‘play cat and mouse’ with their mamas and papas emotions, driving them up the curtains and out of their little pea-size human minds several times a week….
Well, hey, what else is a kitty to do for fun?
