Cats Triumphant by Jody Lynn Nye Read Free Book Online Page A

him backwards. The scuffle took them through the kitchen, out into the hall, into the front room, back into the hall, and into the kitchen again, where the stranger picked up the can opener and struck Daddy over the head with it. Dropping the knife, Daddy fell to the floor. He groaned, stirred, and lay still. The person in black picked up a black sack that was lying in the shadows and started going through the cupboards.
    Pretty Kitty and Sweetie Baby were aghast. They went over to nose at Daddy. He was breathing heavily as though he was asleep. No matter what efforts they used—nudging at his chin, tickling his nose with whiskers, yowling in his ear—he didn’t move. This would not do. Their dinner was late! They were only just consenting to forgive him for the initial tardiness when the stranger burst in. Who knew how long it would be delayed now? The cats looked at one another. Someone must give them their dinner. Sweetie Baby looked up. How about the person in black, who was now going through the interesting-smelling spice cabinet where even she was not allowed to go?
    Pretty Kitty agreed. He must feed them. They would show him where the food was.
    At first, Pretty Kitty tried the friendly approach. She walked up to sit beside the stranger, and watched as he filled his bag with clangy dishes and things from the high-up glass cabinet. Pretty Kitty waited for him to notice her, then rubbed up against his ankle, doing her best hungry-cat approach in sign language made simple for people. This activity usually produced fast service with admirable contrition from Daddy, and even better, petting and extra praise in a soothing voice from Mommy.
    The person in black went right on doing what he was doing. The cats were incensed. How could he think that house-cleaning was more important than petting the cat? Sweetie Baby scowled at her companion in frustration. All right, if this person was too stupid for the subtle approach, a more direct one was called for. While Pretty Kitty continued with her best ankle-winding appeal, Sweetie Baby jumped up onto the counter to confront him directly. She couldn’t see very much of his face. The black cloth covered everything but his nose and his eyes. Sweetie Baby tried to touch his nose with hers, but he backed off, almost stumbling over Pretty Kitty. Perhaps he was shy. She squeezed her eyes closed at him, feigning an affection she didn’t feel, but she was willing to dissemble in hopes of getting a meal before dawn. She sashayed up and back on the smooth counter, rubbing up against the cabinet and swishing her tail sensuously. All her efforts were wasted. With one swipe of the stranger’s paw, she was shoved out of the way and down onto the floor.
    Pretty Kitty rushed over to sniff Sweetie Baby’s nose, to make sure she was all right. This person was too rude. He was ignoring them. Didn’t he understand who they were? Didn’t he know they were hungry? This was the most important thing in the world!
    Pretty Kitty felt the pang in her middle grow until it was positively painful. She couldn’t go without food much longer. She leaped up onto the counter and batted at the person’s hands with her paw, hoping to make him see reason. He tried to swat her away, but she was wary of him. He missed, then turned back to his task. She came up to him again, pulling at his arm with her paw, trying to draw him toward the can sitting not eight feet away from him on the counter. Tantalizing scents of fresh turkey feast were making her frantic. Sweetie Baby could smell it, too. She stretched up as high as she could to paw at the person’s arm.
    He continued to clatter things into the bag. He must be too stupid to understand body language, too. All right, then: they must employ verbal communication.
    “Feed me,” sang Pretty Kitty. “Feed me,” carolled Sweetie Baby. “Feed me!” they sang together. “The food is good, the food is good. We want more, we want more, we want more!”
    “Shut up,