Freddie scaled the side of the bed, causing it to shake a little and making a claws-on-sheets sound. I startled, bad, and dropped my book onto my chest.
“You scared me!” I accused, glaring at him.
Totally unbothered, Freddie climbed my belly and settled his paws on top of the book. He bent down and touched his nose to mine.
I let out a breath and petted him. “It wasn’t really you that scared me,” I explained. “This book is really scary.”
He sniffed the book he was lying on and looked back up at me.
“It’s got a little kid with an imaginary friend that’s probably a ghost,” I explained.
“Like on the stairs?”
We stared at each other.
“What?”
“It’s probably nothing,” he said.
A gentle reminder of how we do things: 🐱🐶🐦
- Do not troll the diary. If you hate pootie diaries, leave now. No harm, no foul.
- Please do share pics of your fur kids! If you have health/behavior issues with your pets, feel free to bring it to the community.
- Pooties are cats; Woozles are dogs. Birds... are birds! Peeps are people.
- Whatever happens in the outer blog STAYS in the outer blog. If you’re having “issues” with another Kossack, keep it “out there.” This is a place to relax and play; please treat it accordingly.
- There are some pics we never post: snakes, creepy crawlies, any and all photos that depict or encourage human cruelty toward animals. These are considered “out of bounds” and will not be tolerated. If we alert you to it, please remember that we do have phobic peeps who react strongly to them. If you keep posting banned pics...well then...the Tigress will have to take matters in hand. Or, paw.
It was getting uncomfortable with the cat on top of the book on top of me. But I have a personal rule that Freddie gets as much sitting on the human time as he wants, so I ignored it as best I could.
“You should tell me a story,” he said.
“Do you want me to read to you from this book?” I asked, confused.
“I get enough ghosts,” he said. “Tell me another kind of story.”
“Wait, let’s go back to the ghosts,” I said.
“It should be a fun story,” he continued.
“Fun, huh?”
He tucked his paws under his chest and stared down at me, expectant.
“Ok, let’s see. Once upon a time there was a handsome cat named Freddie.”
“It’s starting really good,” he said.
“He stared out the window into the front yard, watching the crows hop around. He was a little bored that day, the kibble tasted a little bland and the catnip fish wasn’t running away when he stalked it.”
“It never does,” he said, sadly.
“He sighed, wishing something would happen.
“And then, suddenly, something happened!”
“What happened?” he demanded.
“A pair of neighborhood cats darted out from behind the car parked across the street. One was a lovely calico, the other a handsome tuxedo. They seemed angry at each other.”
He blinked at me. “Could he tell what they were mad about?” he asked, deeply interested.
“I didn’t know you liked gossip,” I said, laughing.
“It seemed the calico had been stepping out with another tuxedo!”
“No!” Freddie said.
“Yes! It was … it was his littermate!”
“Oh my god!”
“The calico hissed and told the tuxedo that it was his fault because of the time he, uh, kidnapped the calico’s daughter!”
“What?!”
“They had been enemies years before and the tuxedo had taken the calico’s daughter and ransomed her back for an entire lake of tuna! And so the calico waited years and then pretended to be some other calico and became his girlfriend so she could get her revenge!”
“This is a really wild story,” Freddie said.
“It sure is,” I agreed, wondering where it could go from here. “I was never into the daytime soaps, but my mom watched them sometimes. I remember there was one about a hospital that had a storyline involving an alien that was trying to get home. It was really weird.”
“What happened next?”
“With the alien? I think the kids on the show got him home.”
“No, with the calico and the tuxedo.”
“Oh! Well, let’s see. They were yowling at each other and didn’t notice the crows.”
“Oh, yeah! The crows!”
“The entire murder was watching the argument, but one crow in particular seemed upset.
“’Erica!’ He called. ‘Did you tell him about me?’
“The tuxedo stopped yowling and turned to look at the large crow. ‘A bird, Erica? Have you really no standards?’”
“I need some popcorn,” Freddie said. “Or maybe some tuna.”
“We should see if they have tuna flavored popcorn,” I suggested.
“Oooooh yes!”
“’It wasn’t like that!’ the calico — Erica — stammered. ‘We were partners!’
“‘Yes!’ the crow cackled. ‘Partners in CRIME!’
“The rest of the murder cackled with him, raising a loud cacophony that made Freddie flatten his ears.
“’What does this mean?’ the tuxedo asked the calico.
“’You see, JR, ‘twas us who toppled your catnip operation!’ she declared.”
“He was a catnip dealer?” Freddie asked, mouth open.
“He was a catnip kingpin!” I explained. “But the police dogs raided his compound and he barely got away.”
“’You’ll pay for this, crow!’ the tuxedo shouted.
“’It’s you who will pay, JR!’ the crow shouted back.
“’You’ll both pay!’ the calico shouted at them both.”
“Erica is turning on...wait, what’s the crow’s name?” Freddie asked.
“Uh...Blade.”
“Erica is turning on Blade?”
I had kinda lost control of this story. I thought fast. “You see, Erica had once belonged to a hunting club of calicos.”
“They have hunting clubs?” he asked, frowning.
“Of course. They are the smartest breed.” He frowned harder. “Other than tan striped cats, naturally.”
“Naturally.”
“And the hunting club had stalked an entire murder of crows. It was the last time the whole group was together. Because the crows had, uh, dive-bombed them and forced them to scatter. And the calicos had vowed revenge. And that was Blade’s murder.”
“This doesn’t make any sense,” he said.
I sighed. “I told you I didn’t watch these shows much. So she pretended to be a different calico and befriended the crows to help them get revenge against the tuxedo.”
“What did the crow do to JR?” Freddie asked, confused.
“Um, let’s see, he, uh, stole the crow’s stash of shiny objects!”
“...why…?”
I shrugged. “He’s kind of a jerk,” I said.
“It kind of seems like they all are,” he said.
“Now you’re getting it!”
“’What could you possibly do against me and my minions?’ laughed Blade, the crow. The rest of his murder turned to frown at him. ‘I’m trying to look tough in front of the cats,’ he whispered. ‘Just go with it.’ Satisfied, they turned back to the cats, fluffing their feathers and looking like tough guys.
“’You don’t know about my secret weapon!’ she said, puffing out the fur on her spine.’
“’I know you don’t think I’m going to help you,’ JR told her.
“’Of course not!’ she said. ‘My secret weapon is...FREDDIE!’ and she pointed at the cat in the picture window.”
“Me?!” Freddie, gulped.
"’Oh no!’ the tuxedo and the crow said together. ‘Not Freddie!’
“’That’s right! Freddie was the captain of the hunting club of calicos! He was the one who called the dog police! He was behind everything!’
“JR and Blade knew what was good for them and ran off in separate directions. Erica sauntered over to the window and regarded Freddie through it. ‘It worked just as we planned,’ she purred.’
“’You forgot one thing,’ Freddie told her. ‘I control the puppy patrol!’
“It was then that Erica heard it — sirens mixed with howls in the distance. ‘You didn’t!’ she demanded.
“’Oh, you know I did. You see, I knew it was only a matter of time before you waited several years and then came back into my life in order to ruin me. So I’ll make sure you’re in jail! Bwahahahahaha!’”
“Wait. So I’m evil?”
“Everyone in these is at least a little. But you won!”
He twisted around to lick his shoulder a few times, then turned back to me. “You’ll have to work on this one,” he said.
“I know. But it was fun, right?”
“It was fun,” he agreed.
Happy Caturday, Peeps! Soap operas are fun to watch, but no fun to live. So Freddie and I wish you all non exciting times.