by Mary Ellen Johnson
“I can only see 2 inches of height from y kitty vantage point under the living room couch. That foot just to my right looks enticing: Can I grab that heel with my claws, sharpened just a few minutes ago on my scratching post? They don’t call me Audrey from Little Shop of Horrors for nothing, as I was watching that movie carefully to hone my techniques, cat-style.” Yeow! “Success! Look at that – her popcorn pieces scattered right in front of me – I hope I get one with butter on it.”
The claw paw reaches timidly from its lair to catch a tidbit of popcorn, then quickly to capture the booty. The female human looks down, sees nothing, and continues to watch America’s Got Talent suspecting the feline is hiding close by. Her feet move to rest on the couch out of reach of the bored tabby.
“Sure looks strange under here. I can see carpet that could use vacuuming – all that carpet fuzz, cat hair, and pieces of what looks like paper shreds from newspaper or tissues is not very appealing to this cat; a cat toy that has seen better days; a hallway, or should I call it a sliding board, but no other Seymour cat to pounce on; the bricks of the hearth with all those wooden ducks and geese I love to topple; and Oh my gosh, another set of feet just to my right! I can’t easily reach those heels – it’s too tight for me. I should really limit that midnight snack of more Blue Wilderness cat food – Nah! Who am I kidding? I’ll work on sharpening my teeth to enlarge this space just like a mouse would.”
“Time to wriggle out of here. I can’t turn around so I’ll have to back out. These belly crawls are getting tougher, but the back scratches are fun. When I get out, I will have to find more mischief to take my owners’ attention away from that noisy box over there. There aren’t any animal acts on, so how could they be interested in that box when I am here in the same room and so cute, cuddly, and with such sharp claws? Yawn! Maybe I’ll just take a little time out for a catnap.”