Tuesday, December 2, 2008

KittenSpeak

I have a friend who has rescued many basset hounds—those floppy, droppy, slow-moving, tail-wagging Hush Puppies dogs. It’s hard to believe, but these canines were bred to hunt rabbits—their sense of smell second only to that of the bloodhound, according to Wikipedia.* But can you imagine a basset chasing a rabbit?

“Spike, fetch that bunny!” you say, and off runs the basset. Two lopes and the overgrown wiener dog has tripped over his ears, somersaulted, and is lying in a puddle of himself.

Hunting was never very big to Joanne, so she just thanked the dogs to dust her hardwood floors with their ears.

One day while living in upstate New York, she went to a feed store to buy dog food. While there, my dear friend had a mental hiccup and came home with a kitten and all the feline accoutrements. I was amazed at the news; had she just forgotten the dog food? But with each conversation as months rolled on, her joy with Kate the cat grew. Between the two of us, stories of our critters abounded.

One day she came home exhausted after another day at the bank and was sitting next to her large, wood desk talking on the phone with a friend. Simultaneously she viewed her sticky-note reminders. She’s the type who has more stickies clinging to her fridge, desk, and bathroom mirror than a hippie has bumper stickers on his VW van. With each new “to do,” thought, or need from the store, she’d post another sticky note: Wack weeds. Get out of banking. Call Jim. Go to the bathroom. Find a decent and reasonable Christian man.

As Joanne leaned back in her chair conversing, Kate the cat jumped up on the desk for a stroke of attention. With raised tail and a swing of her fanny, Kate displayed a sticky note she apparently had sat on that read: Buy cat food and litter.
copyright © 2008 by Auntie Eartha. All rights reserved.

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* Please see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basset_hound photographs, particularly the third one. Tell me what you see.

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