Friday, January 28, 2011
LIFE IS SCARY! by Charlie
Sometimes I think my sister Chloe is totally lacking in good sense. I have often seen her brazenly sashaying around, right under a dog's nose, as if she didn't understand that said canine could break her neck with one snap of his evil teeth. And maybe she really doesn't understand this, because if she did, she would surely not be so foolhardy and imprudent.
Oh, and here's another dumb thing Chloe did the other night. It was bedtime, and Mom let the dogs out to potty, and then she ran down in the basement just to get a couple of things out of the dryer. After that, everybody came upstairs, and Mom came in the Cat Room to brush me a little bit, which was nice of her, but I was kind of nervous because that Tall Dog was lurking in the hallway. He's the one that scares me the most of all! Anyway, after a while, Mom realized that Chloe didn't seem to be anywhere around, which was odd, because Chloe is always around, like sitting in Mom's lap or hanging out in the bathroom while Mom is brushing her teeth.
Well, anyway, getting back to the dogs, I have to admit that I wasn't very sad when Mom took Gabe away that one day, and he never came back. I know Mom was sad about it, and so was Piper, but frankly, Gabe was not a very nice dog. At least, not to us cats. Luckily, most of the time he didn't feel like chasing us, but he once told me that in his prime, he could catch any cat that scampered through the house, and chew it up pretty good, too. Maybe he was exaggerating his prowess, but maybe not.
Well, Chloe, as usual, was out and about again within a day or so after the Tall Dog arrived -- sitting in Mom's lap, meowing for food in the kitchen, perching on the microwave, and hissing at Nicholas if he came too close. She told me that she had called Nick's bluff more than once, and that I shouldn't be afraid to do the same thing. But I am afraid -- that's the problem. I'm getting bolder, really I am. I mean, I can go downstairs in the evenings and sneak around through the kitchen while Nicholas is sleeping in the living room. But if he starts to get up, I bolt for the stairs, and then he tries to follow me. I'm faster than he is, though, even if he is a greyhound. I can run up the stairs lickety-split, while he's still thinking about how to get his big, clumsy feet on the first step!