A Different Kind of Ruler

I look up at the clock and it is ten minutes after five; a quiet dinner time in the middle of a busy week. I can’t wait for dinner. I hope they are having salmon tonight.

The kitchen is empty, except for Foodie and Freddie, Tears and Splash, our food and water dishes. For some reason, the empty dishes have migrated to a strange alignment on our red paw print placemat. At least I can have a drink of water.

“Come here Tears, let me have a sip.”

Tears wanders closer.

As I stoop into drinking position my front paw gets wet. Ugh! Reckless Oreo spilled water on the placemat again.

 “Why does Oreo put his paw in you, Tears, and then drink water off of it? He makes a mess drinking water in this manner. Besides, you are MY water dish. He has Splash to keep him hydrated.”

“Oreo’s drinking behavior is a mystery. Remember Midnight, you agreed to share all dishes with Oreo. You are a great teacher and very patient with your young student,” Tears reminds me.

“I know, Tears, I know, “reluctantly agreeing with her. 

I slurp some water out of her grey plastic bowl.

Screech! I jump. My kingdom should not have such jarring noises! Mom and Dad stroll into the kitchen through the entry door. They need to take care of that door.  I love them but have they never heard of an oil can? 

As I wander to the door to greet them, I am confident they came home to spend time with me. My hazel eyes gaze at them lovingly. The message is clear, “I love you. Please feed me, pet me, and scratch behind my ears.”

Dad, who is well trained, reaches down, “Hi Midnight, great to see you!”

 He affectionately pets the top of my black, tan, and white head and scratches behind my adorable pointy ears. I am happy and begin purring. I love Dad so much.

“Where is Oreo?” Dad asks me.

I have no comment. I honestly don’t know. Maybe he is taking his late afternoon nap. I stare at Dad quizzically and blink slowly.

After Dad’s greeting, I look up to see Mom carrying the contraption the humans call a cat carrier. Caitlyn, the carrier, is made of jet- black colored plastic. She has a silver metal gate on her front. The ominous carrier is about three feet long by 18 inches wide and stands two feet tall. Caitlin waits, ready to suck up a cat instantly. I hear her.  Just like a vacuum…I notice Caitlyn, think about her, tremble, and scamper out of the kitchen. My senior body scurries quickly, moving like a cheetah, through the breakfast room and into the living room.

Caitlyn snickers,” Midnight, I see you running. We will go on an adventure together. I am waiting for you.”

A quiet cackling sound comes from the kitchen, and the hum of a vacuum follows. My short, freshly washed fur rises to attention as a shiver cascades down my spine. Simultaneously, my pointy tiger-striped tail gets puffy and stands upright.

From my vantage point next to the sofa, I spy Oreo as he enters the kitchen. He takes one look at Caitlyn and flees, dashing as quickly as his short and fluffy (also fat) body allows. Oreo’s size is impressive; he is built like a footstool and waddles when he moves. His white soft belly almost hits the floor. And how does he control his bushy black tail AND carry all of his weight around? His poor knees must hurt. If only Oreo could stay away from the hard food crunchies!

Suddenly, I realize that I NEED to know what is going on. My kingdom is being invaded by Caitlyn the cat carrier and it is my responsibility to keep watch. Caitlyn doesn’t see mead I stealthily creep back into the kitchen and crouch close to the floor. Midnight The Ninja Kitty is my new name!

Mom and Dad are sitting at the kitchen table when my boy, Phillip, comes downstairs from our bedroom and joins them. They are sharing a pizza. I wish I liked pizza; it smells good but has no taste to me. Thinking about food makes my stomach rumble. I am SO hungry.

Caitlyn is on the floor with her side touching the leg of the kitchen table. Her vacuum hums quietly. Do the humans hear her? I need to avoid her “cat vacuum” at all costs. However, my curiosity triumphs over the looming danger. The King needs to know what is happening in his kingdom!

Mom, Dad and Phillip continue to babble. They chatter so much, particularly Dad.   He is telling a story about how a package got lost in the mail. 

Meanwhile, Oreo is shuddering in the back of the hall closet. He is hiding around the corner, out of sight and about 15 feet away from all of us.

“I made an appointment for Oreo at the V.E.T,” Mom tells Dad and Phillip. She continues, “He needs his check up and shots.”

Not the V.E.T.! Nothing positive ever comes from that trip! Those V.E.T. humans poke and prod at you, all the while saying this will make you feel better. Yet I always feel worse. I think Oreo does too. Poor Oreo, I feel bad for him. He is such a fearful guy. This news will cause him to lose it.

 I can help him. Luckily, in a previous lesson, Oreo learned how to resist being sucked into Caitlyn. If he remembers “How to Rule our House and avoid Caitlyn, Lesson #4,” he will be fine.   

Ambling out of the kitchen, through the breakfast room and turning right toward the hall closet, I find Oreo, hunkering down in the back corner.

“Oreo, you are right to hide. They are planning to take you to the V.E.T. “

Oreo starts quivering uncontrollably. He lets out a little, “mroww”.

“Shhhh, Oreo, stay quiet, you don’t want Mom and Dad to find you!”

Oreo looks at me strangely. He is scared. Instantly I regret snapping at him; I hope he knows that I was trying to be helpful.  Changing tactics with Oreo, Midnight, the cat cheerleader, arrives.

“Oreo, you can do this. You can resist being sucked into Caitlyn. I believe in you!”

“Thank you, Midnight. But how?” he whispers.

“As you are well aware, we covered this in lesson #4. Here is a little reminder: 

Step #1-Maintain self-control at all times. You don’t want to make it easy for the humans to find you by making a lot of noise.

Step #2-If they do find you, pretend to cooperate until they try to stuff you into Caitlyn and then perform the four-corner stall. “

Oreo cocks his chin at a slight angle and says, “Huh?”

“Step #3-You know, Oreo, the four-corner stall. Hold your arms and legs at a 45-degree angle. Be as stiff as a statue. Remain strong. They can’t stuff you into Caitlyn if you maintain your width. Fully splayed, you are wider than her door. “

Oreo nods, “meow.”

“Step #4-If all at else fails and she sucks you in, slosh your body from one side to the other, and make Caitlyn difficult to carry.”

“Got it, “exclaims a confident Oreo.

Where is Phillip, I wonder? He was talking with Mom and Dad, but I miss him.  Also, I am hungry and need food. All of this teaching is exhausting.

A low murmur followed by a sucking sound comes from the kitchen. The vacuum is getting louder. Oh no! Caitlyn is hissing. 

The humans finish their pizza and Mom stands up. She is getting smart… she places Caitlyn in a vertical position on the end of the kitchen table. Her grated door is open and on the top.

“Whoosh….grrr.. I am ready for you kitties,” Caitlyn cackles and creates a stronger vacuum. 

Somehow Mom finds Oreo hiding in the hall closet. He is reducing his stocky 18-pound body to a smushy mess of long black and white fur. His emerald green eyes flash and Oreo goes limp…. but Mom is able to pick him up.

“Oreo remember …. Four corner stall… legs and arms at a 45-degree angle NOW. They will not be able to stuff you in the carrier.” 

“I’ve got this Midnight. You have taught me well.”

“Good job, Oreo. You are doing it. Stay strong. Be as stiff as a statue.”

“REOWWWW,” says Oreo.

Jeez, he doesn’t sound well.

Mom and Dad try to reason with Oreo. He is not budging.

“…stay splayed Oreo, and keep howling. “

“REOWWW…. REOWWW,” cries Oreo.

One hind paw goes in to the carrier, then the other, and plop…. Caitlyn has sucked him in. Her vacuum grows stronger.

Quickly Dad slams the door shut.

“Got him, “Caitlyn exclaims triumphantly. “I will take him to the V.E.T. whether he likes it or not! Oreo, you belong to me. I am in control!”

“Caitlyn, why are you so mean to us? We have done nothing to you.”

“Midnight, I am protecting myself from cats like you. When I was a young carrier, people at the pet store used me to transport kitties to an adoption center.  Those cats would throw up in me, scratch at me, and leave me very smelly “presents”. The pet store people scoured me with disinfectant and vigorously scrubbed my insides. It was painful and I quickly learned that all cats intend to hurt me. You are no exception, Midnight. So I go on offense, “Caitlyn snickers. 

She increases the volume on her vacuum sound.

“Caitlyn, we don’t dislike you. We hate going to the V.E.T.”

“I can’t hear you,” Caitlyn cackles.

Meanwhile, coaching Oreo, “Oreo keep crying, Mom and Dad will understand how unhappy you are. They want you to be happy. They love you and you love them.”

“REOWWW…. REOWWW…. REOWWW….”

Oreo continues howling and bashing his 18 pounds of fluff into Caitlyn’s front door. Dad is using all of his strength to steady the carrier as it rocks vigorously.

“Oreo, you need to stop this rocking. You are so heavy; I can barely hold you!” yells Dad.

“Not the front of the carrier, Oreo, you need to roll side to side. Make them regret capturing you.”

“REOWW…REOWWW…REOWWW,” Oreo howls.

“Oreo, you are breaking me. I don’t know if I can contain you,” Caitlyn murmurs breathlessly. Her vacuum softens.

“That is the point!” bellows a defiant Oreo.

 “MROOWWW”

Oreo’s wailing continues, sounding increasingly hoarse with each meow. Dad asks Oreo to be still.

 “It is OK, Oreo. Mom is here. Calm down,” she says reassuringly.

Wham…wham…wham then…REOWWW…. REOWWW…REOWWW

Screech! Mom, Dad and Phillip leave the house through the kitchen door to the garage. I know they are placing him in the large V.E.T. transportation machine.

I hear REOWW……REOWW…. then thud.

Oh no…. what is going on out there? Needing to know, I stare at the kitchen door. 

Screech, the door opens. Mom, Dad and Phillip return.

“Oreo, I don’t know why you wouldn’t stop smashing your face into the front of the carrier,” Mom scowls at him.

A sickly REOWWW squeaks out of Oreo.

“Good job, Oreo. You WON! Hey, you look dizzy. Does your nose hurt from smashing it into the Caitlyn’s front grate?” I continue.

“My front door is killing me,“ exclaims Caitlyn, “I am surprised it withstood your senseless whacking. And you wonder WHY I don’t like cats. “

“Meowwwwww, says Oreo,…. I feel strange…. REOWWW”

When will Mom and Dad learn that reason doesn’t work with him? He knows the V.E.T. humans do NOT treat him well. Despite his young age, Oreo has SOME knowledge. While pondering this question, one of many human oddities which I do not understand, I notice Oreo panting. His nose looks bruised and swollen. He is crouching by Caitlyn’s door and is ready to tear through the house. His dilated pupils tell me what he is thinking.

“Don’t run and hide, Oreo. You won. You escaped going to the V.E.T. Hold your head high. This is a victory. House cats’ rule! Listen to me Oreo, and stop PANICKING.”

REOWWW…. REOWWW…. REOWWW….

As Caitlyn’s door opens, Oreo sprints through the downstairs of the house, dashes up the stairs, makes a hard left, and his back legs wipe out from under him. WHAM… he collides with Mom and Dad’s bedroom door. As tiptoe up the stairs behind him, Oreo recovers and runs into Mom’s closet. He is hiding behind her long sweaters and stack of shoe boxes, thinking the humans won’t see him.

“Oh Oreo, the back of the closet, behind Mom’s shoes, is NOT where victorious cats go. You WON and you need to celebrate! Oreo, you are not behaving like a King. How are you ever going to conquer this house and run this family? How are you going to be a brilliant and confident ruler like I am? I have a lot to teach you. When you calm down…. we will work on your cattitude “I muse.

“Midnight, I don’t like surprise trips to the V.E.T. Thanks to Caitlyn, I am stressing out. I WILL become the ruler of this house, in my own way. Although I am only two years old I am warning you, be careful what you wish for, Midnight. You will see. I am determined to rule. Life around this house will change.”

And with that statement Oreo goes back to panting and cowering behind the stack of shoes and sweaters.

What does mean Oreo by, “be careful what you wish for”?   My stomach rumbles as I run back down the stairs contemplating this thought. Wait a minute, I am hungry, and no one has fed me yet.

“Meow, Phillip, meow, please feed me.”  

I NEED food. I run to the kitchen, stand next to Foodie and meow loudly. Surely Phillip will come to my rescue. It is past my dinner time.