Talulah
Fat? Oh, the indignity of it. Sometimes I think these humans actually don’t realise that I understand everything they say. They clearly don’t understand me, so I suppose they think ignorance is a two way thing. But to call me fat…. I am nicely rounded and my fur is thick and lustrous. I am altogether a very beautiful girl. They tell me that all the time, usually punctuated with ridiculous chirpy sounds and cooing. I stalk over to the mirror, I’m rather good at stalking, if I do say so myself. In the mirror I see my perfectly symmetrical face, my long, fine whiskers, and my gorgeous tabby markings. I turn to admire my fluffy tail. I really am the very picture of perfection. And they are discussing me. Calling me fat! Right, I’m going out.
OK, so, the cat flap is a little smaller than it used to be. But I can get through it. Just. They must have installed a smaller one recently. Devious creatures, humans. The garden is nicely overgrown, giving me lots of good hiding places to leap out from. There are two trees, so I can run up them and catch birds, or drape myself over the branches in a picturesque fashion. The smells out here are fascinating. I can just catch the taint of fox, long gone thank goodness. There’s the acrid smell of some human’s bonfire, and a sort of half appetising stink from something cooking in one of the flats across the road. I brush majestically though the herb garden, mint, fennel and thyme scent my coat. I’ll lick that off later. Now I’m going to sun myself on the patio. Aah, I do like a sunny day. I get very soporific in the sunshine. I stretch out on the baking flagstones, arch my back and wiggle a bit, to get my position just right. I can hear the humans, still talking in the kitchen. That’s another annoying thing about them, their sense of hearing is appalling. I remember how it was before they put the cat flap in. I’d be miaowing like mad and scratching at the back door. For absolutely ages. Eventually they would open the door and say something like, “Oh poor Talulah! Poor puss, have you been there long? I didn’t hear you.” And they’d stroke me to apologise and give me a treat. The stroking and the treat never quite made up for the indignity of having to wait. Once they actually left me out in the rain. In the rain I tell you! They’d ‘popped out to the shops.’ I had freshly cooked chicken for dinner that night. If I can make them feel guilty I always profit.
I twitch an ear - what was that I heard? A bird! I am on my paws, all aquiver with excitement. Birds are fun! The chase, the crunchiness! The feathers are a nuisance, but, the chase is the thing. I’m still as a statue, eyeing the small brown creature. It’s actually going to fly up to the bird bath. How very stupid of it. I’ll wait until it’s up there and then I’ll sprint and pounce! Patience now, wait for it, and go! I streak across the lawn, leap for the rim of the birdbath! And….
Well, that was a little embarrassing. I’ll just sit here and clean myself nonchalantly. Nothing to see here. I didn’t just miss my leap, oh no. I meant to do that.
The skinny black cat from next door is sitting on the wall laughing at me! How dare he! Seriously, how dare an ugly moggy like that laugh at me! What’s his name? Mawkin? Milky? No, Malkin, that’s it. A stupid name for a stupid feline. Most cats are superior to humans, but that one isn’t. He mistook my gymnastics near the bird bath for an error. I will stalk past him, tail in the air. Then I’ll go in for a snack.
I push my way through the cat flap, they really have put a smaller one in.
I’m sitting by my bowl. Where are my snacks? There are always snacks in my bowl. The female human, the one called Alice, is sitting at the table, ignoring me. I try a piteous miaow. Another one, louder. I walk over to her and wind myself round her legs. She reaches down to stroke me.
“Oh, sorry Talulah! No snacks for you my love, you’re getting too fat.” What? What did she say? She said the f word. I am not fat! They wouldn’t want to pet a skinny, scrawny thin thing anyway, would they? They love my soft roundedness. They tell me I’m beautiful (which I know). And now she insults me by saying I’m fat! I stalk off, deciding how to play this. I think I’ll go for ‘poor little me, you don’t love me anymore.’ But first I’ll just groom myself a bit, to show her my loveliness. She’s still apologising for the lack of snacks. That won’t wash with me. I finish licking my paws and running them over my button of a nose, then, tail down, I do a brilliant impression of sorrow, walking slowly to the sofa, leaping up as though it’s an effort and i can only just make it, and curling up in a sad looking little ball. She’s coming over. This is good. She sits next to me, strokes me gently, her clever fingers touching all the right bits. She know not to go near my stomach, that’s off limits, and I have claws. I start to purr, remember my plan, and slip down to the floor, wandering slowly, tail still down, to my bowl. I give my most piteous wail. It works! She opens the packet and pours Dreamies into my bowl. My favourite. I wind myself round her legs as she pours, purring. Then I daintily, but quickly, eat them all. Ah, victory is sweet.
We go through a similar procedure at dinner time, Alice and I, She gives me a small amount of tinned food. I eat it in about half a minute. I wail, look dejected, sit staring at my bowl. She leaves the room. Desertion! I have a will of iron, so I stay by the bowl, waiting. She’s not gone for long, and the minute she comes back into the kitchen I cry piteously. She looks worried, comes to stroke me. I decide to give her the cold shoulder, and shrug her attentions off, retreating a little and meowing like mad. Then, when she stands up, I move to my bowl, tail down and give her the full power of my luminous eyes. She breaks, of course, and I have a proper dinner. Tonight I will sleep well. I’m sure they will abandon their plans to starve me. But, it is true that Jude, the male human, who has been away today, is harder to manipulate than the female. No matter. I will prevail.
it’s morning, and I’ve just emerged from under the duvet. I sleep with the humans because they keep me nice and warm. They think it’s because I love them. Fools. I jump to the floor and begin my stretches. It’s a bit like when they do yoga, but I don’t try and balance on one leg. Why do they do that? i mean they only have two legs to start with, so not using one for a while seems silly. The sun is coming through the curtains and I look marvellous as the rays illuminate me on the grey carpet.”Oh look, Jude! She’s so gorgeous! Yes you are Talulah, aren’t you. Beautiful girl.” Then those weird kissy noises they make to attract me. I play along, jumping back onto the bed for some strokes and fuss. Unfortunately i misjudge it a bit and land quite heavily on Jude’s male parts. He shrieks and pushes me hard. I tumble to the floor and flee under the bed. Well, he shouldn’t lie there on his back with his intimate bits on display, should he? The next few minutes are not fun. He’s groaning and saying wicked things about me, which I will not repeat. Alice is trying to look after him, but she’s also worried about me, calling me and making soothing noises to us both. I emerge from under the bed and streak downstairs.
Later, Alice comes to find me. I’ve been calming down, making sure to do my morning grooming so as to be at my most alluring at breakfast time. She tells me not to worry, that it wan’t my fault. I know it wasn’t, but I suppose it’s nice of her to say so. She goes back upstairs with two cups of tea; I don’t know what humans see in the stuff, but there you go. Later they come into the kitchen together. Jude ignores me. Alice fusses, strokes me and gives me a meagre breakfast. My cat flap is still closed; they lock it every night so I can’t get out. I find this most annoying, as i miss out on the delicious night smells and adventures. I meow by it, expecting it to be opened. But they ignore my pleas. Something is not quite right, but I’m not sure what. I decide to ignore the humans and have a bit more sleep, so I go to my favourite bit of the sofa and dream of chasing mice.
The next thing I know Jude is picking me up, “bloody hell Talulah, you weight a ton!” I’m so insulted that I fail to notice that he is about to put me in the cat box of doom. Noooo! I’m locked into the thing before I can put up a fight. I poke my paws through the bars, meowing piteously. Then I register what Jude just said. I weigh a ton do I? Well, someone’s going to find his newspaper shredded later today. And I’ll hide his socks. One from each pair i can find. I continue to wail, because I know what this means. I’m being taken to the VET. The horror! I will be poked and prodded. I will have needles stuck in me. Alice may cry. Good. So she should. Before and after the VET there is the distress of the CAR. The stink of fuel, the nasty movements. Oh, woe is me on this worst of days!
I will gloss over the next hour a little. It is worse than usual. In addition to the poking and the needles there are also the insults. “Oh,” says the vet, lifting me onto the scale,”she’s put on a lot of weight! What a chunky girl you are Talulah!” Chunky! how would she like it if someone called her chunky? Even though, in her case, it would be true. To add insult to injury she then prescribes a weight loss diet, selling my despicable humans low calorie food, which must be measured carefully. They are not to give me any more than the stated amount. They are not to give me snacks. I have never been so miserable. I am sick in the car on the way back. I hope they can’t get the small out of the air. I hate them.
I haven’t forgotten my plans to make Jude pay for his insults, but I feel a bit sorry for myself when we get indoors, so I just go to the sofa and sleep. Alice sits with me for a bit while she has her tea. It is soothing having her there; I really do feel rotten. She reads and soothes me. I begin to purr. A while later I’m hungry, and I go hopefully to my empty bowl. Alice ignores me, carries on reading. Then, when I start to cry piteously, she leaves the room. Jude has gone out. Good. It’s Saturday and he likes the weekend newspaper. Remembering my vow to destroy it, I jump unto the kitchen table, but he must have taken it with him. I’ll get his socks then. This is much more successful, as the’s a lot of washing, waiting to go in the machine. I pick out one from each pair of Jude’s socks, carry them off to hide. They’ve opened my cat flap, so I take my trophies into the garden, burying and hiding them. Ah, revenge really is sweet!
Over the next several weeks I am a poor, diminished version of my lovely self. Lack of food makes me sad and robs me of energy. I can’t tempt Alice to give me snacks, even with my most winsome ways. She gets upset because she loves me, she says. She wants me to be healthy and I can’t be healthy until i lose weight. I Groom myself so that my coat shines. I eat anything i can find, crumbs from the floor, even stuff I lick from plates they sometimes leave on the table after dinner. And I shrink. Or the cat flap is secretly replaced by a wider one. One cool but sunny morning I’m lying on the patio, enjoying the freshness in the air and the smells and sounds of the garden, when I spot a bird on the lawn. I slink silently to my paws, ready to spring. The sparrow heads for the bird bath. My legs are springs, I leap through the air, my teeth close around it’s feathery form. I am nemesis! I am wild!. I take my prey into the kitchen. Not to eat; can’t be bothered with the feathers. I place it on the table, right where `Jude always sits. And I groom myself, smoothing and preening I am the most beautiful cat. I am also a hunter and I hold a grudge.
Later, after the yelling and screaming (Jude is afraid of birds - dead or alive) I sit and survey my domain. I have had my revenge. Also, much as I don’t want to admit it, I am a leaner, sleeker beauty now. I like the renewed energy, the ability to hunt. I prowl my domain, adored by my humans, although Jude has somewhat gone off me, what with the jumping on his manly bits thing, his suspicion of me as the sock thief, and the dead sparrow on the table. But he will return to adoration soon, be as enthralled by my perfection as Alice is. For I am CAT, I am beauty and magnificence. I am Talulah, Queen of Queens. Look upon my beauty and despair! And don’t forget the adoring cuddles.
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8 comments
Very fun story! I love Talulah's attitude, her scorn for the other cat, and her outrage about the change of routine. Talulah's personality is fully-formed, and that's where the humor comes from.
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Thank you Kathryn, I’m so pleased you liked it!
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I don't have a cat, have never had a cat, don't know much about cats, but I liked this story. No, I'm not going to get a cat.
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Haha! I don’t think Talulah would temp many people to get a cat really. Glad you liked the story.
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This is some next level cat snark and I'm here for it. Love the way you have infused your MC with so much personality. Talulah rules and so do you!
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Thanks Wally! It was fun to write.
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This was really amusing, Kathy, and exactly why I will never put tubby tabby on a diet: I fear revenge! haha So many great lines in this, but I got particular giggles out of: -I’ll just sit here and clean myself nonchalantly. Nothing to see here. - man, is that so common in them! "The embarrassed preening!" hehe - I move to my bowl, tail down and give her the full power of my luminous eyes. She breaks, of course, and I have a proper dinner. - yup, that's what would happen here, too. I couldn't bear it. :P - I am Talulah, Queen of Queens....
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Thanks Wendy! While I was writing it I had both my cats curled up angelically next to me. But we know!
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