I have been lying here in the sun from the front window, this is my morning napping place. I have to have at least 20 hours sleep a day. I have been told by my masters that I am a very fine cat (a little fat? No, just big boned. Ha’). But I’m a little tired today. Last night we had another visitor, I don’t know if he had a name, but if it was up to me I would call him Sneaky, or Speedy. Now I have nothing against mice, but I’ve been told I’m supposed catch these creatures, and there is nothing like a good chase.
The usual routine is for me to sit for hours watching a spot where maybe there might be a mouse. Then about midnight we play the game of cat and mouse. We run across the floor, through table legs, flip, flop here and there. Very exciting stuff, but the problem I have is, the mouse either has a heart attack or I play with them until they die. I keep using my paw to make them move. But they aren’t any fun, anymore; they just won’t move.
Now, last night was different; master gave me a great big dinner of fish. Oh, so good!!! Thought I might catch a little shut eye. I was sleeping away (they say I snore, but it’s really purring) when all of a sudden a mouse ran right across my full belly. I was astounded that a mouse was that fearless. The only problem, I was so full of fish and so sleepy. I tried to ignore the mouse, but he was dashing here and there, just as if he were trying to get me to chase him.
So I stretched and yawned, sat up and looked around. Might as well do a little chasing. So around and around we went, but this was a tough old mouse; he was breathing a little hard, but looked fine. Maybe if I take another nap he’ll go away. He was fun, but I’m tired. After my nap the squeaky mouse was gone. Too bad, he was a fun mouse.
Then one day when I was out in the yard sitting on our rock wall, all of a sudden I heard some rustling in the leaves and out poked a little gray head. Squeaky was very still, with his little beady eyes and whiskers. I didn’t try to chase him because Squeaky is a friend and maybe some night he’ll come and play again, if I’m careful not to hurt him.
The moral of the story is: if you are nice you can have more friends and fun.