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Wednesday, 12 August 2009

Meow

By Johna Ferguson

I meowed loudly at people passing on the street in front of the house where I live. In my language it means, “Please stop and pet me” but most everyone ignores me. Maybe it’s because I’m just a common looking house cat, a mixture of grey and black - not beautiful like the pure white Persian down the block, but I still want attention.

My name is Pestiferous but my owners call me Pesky for short. I guess they think I bother them a lot, but cats need good food, a nice place to sleep and a big lap to settle in when nap time is calling.

Actually, the family I live with are kind and caring but also very strict. I can’t go upstairs where the mother, father and grade school girl sleep. They won’t even let me climb on any of the furniture – well, unless I’m on someone’s lap. And I certainly can’t jump up on the kitchen counters where all the good food is prepared.

But when the weather is rainy or cold, they let me sleep in the warm basement instead of my usual place out wandering in the yard. Thankfully there are no dogs in the neighborhood to bother me, just lots of other cats but the vet did something to me so I’m not interested in caterwauling around anymore.

I’m just three and some cats live to be 18, so I look forward to a long, happy life with this family. Now, who can ask for anything more? Well, a little more affection would be nice.

[EDITORIAL NOTE: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Instructions for submitting are here.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 02:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post

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