PRETEND MOTHER
It was early in the afternoon, sunny and beautiful. The trees and grass at Westmount Park looked lively. Children were playing in the public mini-playground, their parents seated or standing nearby glancing back and forth at them, not wanting the ‘boogie man’ to snatch them away.
I decided to take a stroll through the park for an hour or so before deciding what to do next.
My stroll was very enjoyable, but relatively uneventful. I spoke to no one except for the casual nod whenever I crossed paths with a child.
The pigeons were once again at it, gorging on food dropped onto the ground by a caring elderly woman, a grandmother type.
Most of the squirrels were on treetops observing the humans, but more intently the dogs. Some dogs can be outright nasty. These are the individuals who consider squirrels, pigeons and other birds as food.
Aside from myself, there were no cats in the park. What a shame. Humans tend to keep their cats indoors or isolated in their yards or in nearby areas. In fact, some cats are kept indoors for years-on-end, only being let out when it’s time to see the vet for the annual physical exam. I pity those cats. Nothing beats being free (Viva la Chat).
As soon as I’d had enough of walking, I scanned the area, searching for a spot to sit in or to do something to occupy my time.
Looking straight ahead, I decided to walk to the children’s playground.
Upon reaching it I decided to use the slide. I noticed a boy, perhaps five years-old, blond-haired and green eyed staring intently at the slide. His mother appeared to be pre-occupied speaking to someone on her cell phone.
I knew what I had to do. I slowly approached the child, not making any sudden moves or appearing aggressive. “Hey, kid, what’s your name?”
“I’m Toby Barber. I live up on the hill over there. You see?”
“Oh, wow, your mother must’ve driven here. There’s no Metro Service that goes up there.”
“That’s my mommy. Can you help me please?”
I knew what Toby wanted. He wanted a lift up the mini– ladder to reach the summit of the slide. Naturally, being a kind kitty, I obliged him.
But there was a slightly troubling matter. Toby had sticky buggers and logy (rhymes with boogie) plastered on his face. He had to be told, in a gentle manner of course. Furthermore, I was a bit disgusted by it. Cats in general don’t have a logy or bugger problem.
“Toby, you’ve got some dried up buggers and logy splattered all over your face. Why don’t you come with me to the restroom; I’ll clean you up really good.”
Toby’s mother was perhaps thirty or so, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, freckles all over and athletic looking. I figured she’d been a valley girl, a graduate of McGill University with high honours, or maybe down south, like Harvard or Yale, rich (old money), Anglophone and certainly a bit snuff (stuck up).
Although I assumed she loved Toby, at the moment she was busying herself on her cell phone, chatting away like a wild duck. I didn’t want to interrupt her.
As soon as I finished speaking Toby threw a horrific tantrum, swinging and flailing his arms, screaming his brains out.
“Mommy, mommy, that kitty called me a bugger face! He wants me to leave the playground. Help, mommy, help me!”
And oh boy did ‘mommy’ respond. She turned off her cell phone and came charging at me. Then, a humiliation ensued.
“Damn you, stay away from my son you damn cougar! I thought we exterminated you creatures many decades ago.
How dare you call my son a bugger face! And don’t you dare try to kidnap him either.
Damn you, I’m calling the police! I’m also going to call the Prime Minister of Canada! I want him to send you way up north to Baffin Island where you won’t be able to hurt anyone else! Maybe, a hungry polar bear will eat you for lunch!”
“But madam, I didn’t ...”
Neither Toby’s mother nor the people beginning to converge upon me would’ve given me a chance to defend myself.
Before I knew it a large crowd of humans had began to encircle me. Meanwhile, Toby’s mother called the police; shockingly she told them that I physically assaulted her son. An over-kill indeed but the police would definitely take her word over mine. Not to mention the word of that little snot-faced Toby.
I did what any cat would do in his/her right mind; I roared like crazy, temporarily scattering the growing crowd and then scrammed.
I ran through a large gap, chose the shortest target, which in this case was Toby and then leaped over him to show off my agility skills.
I left the park, crossing Sherbrook Street and then running up a steep hill. By the time I’d scaled the hill I began to hear sirens converging upon Westmount Park.
I was so exhausted from the sprint up the hill a long rest was needed. I slowed down, heading westward.
A short while later, I spotted a very large tree situated on a lawn, in front of a large house. Luckily, I was able to scale the tree. Immediately afterwards, I closed my eyes and fell asleep, oblivious to the APB (All Points Bulletin) out for me. I figured things would die out in a few hours.
I awakened just before sunset. It felt really nice being refreshed. But I learned a valuable lesson; humans are unpredictable especially when they’re dealing with cats.
I descended the tree in jaguar-like fashion then walked to the sidewalk. After scanning the area and ‘scenting around’ I detected food, well, right behind me. It was emanating from the large house.
Because I didn’t want to take any chances getting caught, I decided to snatch some food from inside the large house and not bother to cook or prepare it. I’d have to resort to my wild beast instincts.
I leaped onto the living room window, scanned the area for movement and then descended onto the grass. There was no one in sight, but I wasn’t in the clear just yet. I circled around to the back of the large house, approaching the kitchen door very cautiously.
I scented the area for dog or cat odour, and thankfully there was nothing in the air.
I leaped onto the kitchen door, and again scanned the area intently. No one was inside.
After picking the kitchen door lock, I twisted the handle and then pulled the door back. Afterwards, I descended onto the grass and then entered the large house.
I entered the kitchen and then sniffed the food in the area. As soon as I spotted the fridge, which happened to be light green in colour, I charged it and then leaped onto the door, pulled it and then squeezed my body inside it.
There was no time to waste, I snatched a large plastic bag containing raw steaks and then left the large house carrying the plastic bag in my mouth.
I figured it would be safer to leave the area from the kitchen door, rather than the living room.
I walked for several blocks noticing the onset of sunset. I couldn’t believe what I’d done. Normally I’d be afraid to sneak into someone else’s home, but when a cat’s starving, hardly any action that leads to food acquisition is off limits.
Boy, I must’ve been brave or outright foolish.
Anyway, I ended up ascending a large tree. I carefully placed the plastic bag on a large branch and then proceeded to ferociously rip the plastic bag.
When all was done I counted seven steaks. They were mine for the taking! I had to eat like a lion gorging on a precious slab of meat, holding down my target and then ripping out chunks of bloody meat.
My face, forelegs and eyes were pasted with blood, just like my lion cousins.
Not wanting to attract any attention, I descended the tree and then galloped to a garden hose situated beside the garage.
After turning on the hose I proceeded to wash my entire body, not missing any part, including the space between my claws. I even rinsed and gargled.
I ended my hose-down by drinking my fill of nice cool water.
When all was done I shook my entire body violently in order to remove the excess water on me.
As I was leaving the yard I suddenly felt a weird feeling; a feeling of being watched.
I scanned the area saw nothing so I continued on my trek. But the gnawing feeling returned, but this time with increased intensity.
I turned back and woe, standing on his hind legs was a mammoth of a Mastiff. His ears were pushed low and back, teeth bared and eyes glaring.
I could read his lips, ‘I know what you did, you little numbskull. Although I wanted to rip you apart unfortunately I was taking a poop, runny stools. You better leave the premises and never return. By golly, if you ever trespass on this property again I’ll shred you into pieces’.
The Mastiff was slobbering on the window, which, by the way made me laugh like crazy. Furthermore, I was outside and he was inside.
I took it personally, a big ugly dog threatening me from behind a window, inside a house behind closed doors. Now way, I wasn’t going to let it go.
I strolled over to the window, leaped onto it and then stuck my tongue out at the Mastiff. That wasn’t enough though I had to launch a few hostile words at him.
“Mastiff, you’re uglier than sin. I don’t care what you think about me. Besides, just try messing with me. I will beat you to a pulp. C’mon, come out here, one-on-one.
What’s the matter, Mastiff, cats bite your tongue?”
The Mastiff went into a rage, barking, growling and then banging his head on the window. But then, he stopped cold, in a flash.
He grinned, like I mean, he knew something that I didn’t know. And to tell you the truth, my feline instincts warned me of potential danger. But what, I was shielded.
“Kitty, I just remembered something very sweet. Look at the door very intently.”
I stared at the door intently, didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. I mean, it was a large, clean, expensive door with an elegant doorknob and the expected doggy-kitty door. Many rich folks have doggy-kitty doors carved into their house doors.
Wait a minute! Doggy-kitty door! What the, I mean, the thought jolted me like a lightning strike. I picked the darn lock for nothing. Furthermore, the Mastiff could exit the large house quite easily.
By now, it was dark out, and well, by the time I realized what’d happened, the Mastiff’s head appeared through the doggy- kitty door.
Gosh I did several 360 degree turns, desperately searching for a way out of my predicament. The tree nearby would only be a temporary shelter. The Mastiff could literally stand underneath the tree and wait it out. Besides, technically, I was the intruder. The owners of the large house could return at any moment. Talking my way out was out of the question.
I was in a beautiful tree lined neighbourhood. The homes were large and spaced apart making it difficult for me to get lost. Fighting the Mastiff would’ve been very risky, indeed.
Mastiffs can be quite stoic and courageous, not to mention ferocious when fighting a foe. Besides, I knew for a fact that this particular Mastiff had fighting blood in him.
As soon as the Mastiff exited the large house he came charging at me like a freight train. He was literally ‘taking no prisoners’ and ‘accepting no excuses’.
Instinctively, I scaled the large house reaching the roof. The Mastiff, although gargantuan in size couldn’t do likewise.
But he had yet another ace up his sleeve.
“Kitty, I’ll have you down from there in a jiffy! I mean it!”
The Mastiff re-entered the large house. I was worried that he’d bring back a ladder, or worse yet a weapon of sorts. Contrary to popular belief, no cat can outrun a bullet.
I turned and then ran to the other side of the roof. Thereafter, I heroically leaped onto the street landing perfectly on all fours.
I decided to glance back just in case (you never know) but as soon as my eyes zoomed in on the large house I took notice of the Mastiff.
The Mastiff had a smirk on his face. No doubt, he had yet another ace up his sleeve. I waited attentively for him to speak.
“Kitty, I’m calling the police. More yet, I might call the mayor of our borough. You’re a danger to the community.
It appears that you’re the person who’s been burglarizing our borough, and you’re probably the one who’s hitting the other boroughs too.
Who can slip and slide into a home without being noticed.
Someone small, cunning and quick-witted, only a cat could do the aforementioned.
Kitty, I’m going to collect on the handsome reward.
But wait, don’t go just yet. I saw you sniffing and looking around, trying to determine if anyone was in the house. You were right; there was no one in the house. I was next door. You see, in all your haste, you forgot about the neighbourhood watch which consists of humans and guardian dogs. I’m one of those dogs. I spotted you from next door. That’s why you couldn’t scent me. You dimwit! Next time, learn how to properly burglarize a home.”
“I’m not the one who’s burglarizing homes in Westmount. That was my first job. I mean it! I was starving to death, c’mon Mastiff give me some leeway here!”
The Mastiff pulled out a cell phone attached to his collar and then proceeded to call the police.
I just totally lost it. Without even thinking about the consequences of fighting a Mastiff I charged him with full force, knocking him onto the ground.
Unfortunately for the Mastiff, he banged the side of his head onto the sidewalk.
I heard a cracking sound, signifying that some major damage had ensued.
I lifted the Mastiff’s eyelids, looked deep into his pupils and then pressed my ear against his heart.
No pupil response, no heartbeat. The Mastiff was dead. But although I didn’t mean to kill him and really felt bad about it I had my own problems to deal with.
As I pondered about what to do I noticed that lights were coming on from within several nearby homes.
There were no witnesses and I wanted to keep it that way. I ran due north for a block and then several blocks due west, reaching a beautiful mini-park.
I ran deep into a congregation of bushes and then laid wait. I had to ensure that no one was after me.