Thomas King of the Beach
A little while later, the woman came to check on me.
She leaned over and looked under the sofa. “Are you okay, Sparky?”
I grinned and fluttered the tip of my tail.
“Well, we need to find some medication for those ticks
and fleas. Doggies and kitties can get very sick from bug bites,” she
straightened up. “I’ll be back soon.”
A short time later, the lady returned, holding a small box. “Let’s see if you’ll eat this.” She opened the box and
placed a dark, round object in front of my nose.
I sniffed it suspiciously and turned my head away. No.
Not going to eat that thing, I thought. Too many of my hungry friends
had gobbled up bad things and gotten sick.
“Hmm. Okay, let’s try something else.” She picked up
the brown object and walked back into the house.
Soon she returned with another plate with just a bit
of food. I was still full, but after living on my own for a while, I wasn’t
going to turn down an offer of delicious chow. If I refused to eat, this might
be the last meal she’d offer me.
I ate everything, and I was so full I burped. I didn’t yet know how to say "perdóneme," excuse me, in her language, so I lay back
down for another siesta. Pretty soon, I could feel the nasty biting bugs
letting go and dropping off my skin. It was a miracle.
When I woke up a little later, the grey cat strolled
over to me. He was exactly my size and had big muscles like me. His long, thick
fur made him look massive. His fierce yellow eyes studied me carefully.
“I know you have been coming into my house
while your friend was looking after Chica and me for three weeks,” he said,
staring at me with those enormous eyes. “I never properly introduced myself
because I thought you would move on when my humans returned. My full name is
Thomas the Cat, but you may call me Tommy.”
“Mucho gusto, Tómas,” I politely replied in
Spanish, telling him I was pleased to meet him.
“As the oldest animal in this house, my humans
asked my permission to adopt you,” he added, arching an eyebrow
meaningfully at me. “I said yes, as long as you are well-behaved.”
“Gracias, Tómas,” I thanked him. “I promise,
I’ll be good.”
“You’re welcome to live here as long as you don’t hurt
or chase either Princess Chica or me.” He stretched out one of his massive front
paws and flexed his toes so that I could see his very long and sharp claws.
Wow! Scary!
“These are my murder-mittens. If you try to hurt us, I
will scrape them across your tender nose,” he said.
“I won’t bother you,” I truthfully promised.
“Good,” Tommy nodded and said, “then we can be
friends.” He flicked his tail and jumped lightly onto the sofa cushions. “When
you’re clean, our humans will let you sleep on the furniture, too.”
“Should I clean my fur in the ocean?” I asked. “I
really want these people to like me.”
“No, just wait. The lady will bathe you, don’t get
upset. It won’t hurt.” Tommy said. He settled into what looked like a nice,
comfy position, put his head down on his front paws, then closed his eyes.
“Does she wash you when you get dirty?” I asked.
Tommy opened one eye and glared at me. “Don’t be
ridiculous. Cats are self-cleaning. We lick our fur and keep ourselves very
tidy.”
I tried to turn and lick my spine like a cat, but my
body wouldn’t twist all the way around. “I wish I could be self-cleaning, too,”
I muttered quietly, trying hard not to bother Tommy again.
Without opening his eyes, he said, “She'll take you to
the cat-doctor soon.”
“The cat-doctor! What’s that?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” he replied.
I’m pretty sure he was smirking when he fell asleep.
~
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