Cat Life (II)

I see her, I want to know what is in this room. The room I am forbidden from. I see the light is on, I wait to see what is inside. I’ve seen some of the room but not all of it. Oh hey, a ball with a noisy thing inside. I pounce, the ball is scruffy and noisy and I bite it many times. Yes, this is what I needed, just this ball. Now it is rolling from me and I am tired. But hungry! I will wake my owner… but how.

“Meow! Meow!” I wail as I walk closer to her door, it’s usually open. Just a crack, “MEOW!”

She always gives me the good food, unlike the other one. She looks at me, I know she’s a predator. Oh well, mother is awake. She pets me, hello mother! “Meow!”

Please feed me, is what I say. She is slowly getting up. She needs more motivation. I nudge her, I must rub against her legs. They are moving forward but I will get in front of them some how. She getting the good food from the large box. I walk to where my food is served. The good food stuffs is wet, flesh like. I like the dry food stuffs she give me, it tastes different but it’s nice to change it up. The white box opens and the cold rolls out. Mom puts it in my bowl and I eat. I must eat it fast for I do not know who or what will try and take it from me. I used to live on the streets.

Oh wow, I’m a bit sleepy. What is that! I see the shorter, other human. She is playing with string?! I want to play with that! I will ATTACK!

“No, Chili. NO!” she says, I attack again.

“UGGGGHHH.” She groans a lot at me. Maybe she has problems? Why does she push me away from the string game. She always plays the game on her feet.

She is mad but leaves. She locks the door, she has left the other unknown doors closed too.

Darn. I missed my chance again.

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Cat Life (I)

I wake up and it seems like a barrier between myself and the front door has been erected. I quietly get ready for work in my bedroom and attached bathroom. I even get my purse in order, put all my winter accessories on, everything I possibly can before I must exit out into the space in which my sister’s cat lives. Yes, this invisible barrier is the shared space in which a cat lives.

Don’t get it twisted, I like animals but after many experiences with animals I know I am not much of a pet person. It’s sad, I love animals but I can be prickly even towards a small animal. If I had to choose, I would live with a dog. They can be trained and loving them is as easy as smiling and petting them. A cat is a different story, it’s probably because I live similarly like a cat that I dislike living wholly with one.

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Chili the cat

A cat likes to be played with when it wants to play. A cat naps when they want. You have to leave kibble out because they eat when they want and if they are not fed on time, they whine and let you know until you can’t stand them. They bathe themselves when they want. They also stare at you. Eat the food you are prepping to cook, walk all over every surface in your home. It bothers me, all of it. I do things of my own accord but I don’t stick my face and appendages into the place I shit. Yeah, that’s right. When a cat walks all over your cooking surfaces, remember those hands and feet have meet their bathroom. Makes you want to wipe everything, well at least I do. Constantly washing my hands.

The cat is cute though, it’s nice, it looks nice, but it sure does know how to get on my nerves. It almost broke my tv by jumping on it. Made mince meat out of photos of my nephews, I try to punish it by sticking it in a blanket and holding it until I think it’s learned it lesson and I let it go. I’ve sprayed this cat with a water bottle, to deter it from jumping on the tv. It’s no use, the cat is old and will not be trained.

Stress. The cat is stress incarnated in a physical form. I look at the cat a feel it’s eyes scanning me, it knows I feel stressed. It knows I am beneath it in terms of who my sister will attend to first. I don’t care, I look back at her, never blinking. “I don’t need your love, I want my space back.” I convey with my eyes. If you blink a lot, most cats see this as a sign of affection. I try not to blink to intimidate the cat. It knows. It knows the deal.

Parents That Cook

Okay, so first draft of a thing. A story essay… A STOSSAY! lol no

I got the topic idea from littlefiction | Big Truths, they put out a call for non-fiction pieces about life with food and cooking. I wrote this draft in about a day and then tweaked and edited it for a month.

I figure I’ve been coddling it for too long so I should post it. I never made the deadline but I was happy I wrote on the subject. I hope it’s well received. If you have any comments, please leave me a comment below.

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PARENTS THAT COOK

Firstly, you pull out a newspaper flyer of any kind. You need enough pages to create a ring, this ring needs to be big enough to go around a frying pan. You pull out a page or two and you fold them in half, length wise and create a ring that fits snuggly around the rim. You make a notch for the handle and you don’t make it too tall because you might not have very good flipper skills to turn eggs but with bacon, you can use chopsticks. This little ceremony of the newspaper ring was something my father did to prevent spattering grease messing up the top of the stove. This was how an immigrant father from the Korean army dealt with making breakfast for his kids.

Continue reading “Parents That Cook”