Friday, January 16, 2009

My Life as Norman Whiskers: Settling In

As my appointed governess, the mini-lady is teaching me a wide assortment of skills, the first and foremost being tea time table etiquette. The first rule of thumb is that all present covered in plastic, fur or flesh MUST have a proper hat. Although I am a bit vexed by being made to look like a lady, something I vowed I'd only do if I were crossing the Equator on a ship, I agree to the flowery hat.

Tomorrow she plans to show me an interesting video in which a girl named Dora Saves the Mermaids. My little governess says we will both reap the benefits of learning spanish phrases from this program, and I suspect an added perk is that there may be fish in it. Tasty, I'm sure!

This afternoon I find my Lady sitting in her favorite chair on the porch, reading a novel about a lion, a witch and a wardrobe. Upon further investigation I discover that she is crying. So vexed am I, that again I forget myself, and all adherence to Cat Code of Conduct goes flying out the window. I speak English by accident.

Jumping on her lap, I shout, "My dear Lady, why do you shed tears on your book?"

"Well Norman," she begins, sniffling. "The creatures beat and tortured the beautiful, gentle lion, and it's very sad."

"Oh, my Lady, it's just a book, not at all reality." I purr, giving her a nudge with my head.

"AH HA! It is true, in a sense. The book is filled with Christian allegory, and more importantly, YOU JUST SPOKE! I knew you could do it. I was sure I was not crazy when I heard you talk last week. Do it again! ...Norman?"

I jump backwards off her lap and onto the floor. I frown. I squirm. I dart into the bathroom to sulk in the cabinet, but it is no use. My Lady follows me there, and peers in at me.

"Say something, Norman. I promise I won't tell anyone," she says, pleading.

I close my eyes and feign a yawn. Then my Lady is suddenly called away when the little dwarf baby climbs out of his screened-in box. Should I tell her the truth? I'm not quite sure she can be trusted. This question spins round in my weary brain until I finally fall asleep.


-Norman Whiskers


Putz said...

tea time with noemaned whishkers...the english have four teas, a high tea a low tea, a midmorning tea whichich is kind of brunch and they have biskets which are really cookies...and then one last tea before you go to bed ....the tannin in the teas are adictive and so the english really can not do with out their tea, ever

The Koala Bear Writer said...

Norman, just so you know, it's quite normal to cry over books (it just means they're really good), and purring with your Lady was the best thing that you could do for her. :)

Loren Christie said...

I think I read that you have traveled to England, Mr. Putz. What exactly is "tannin" ? My daughter and I have tea together, and we wear fancy hats. She doesn't really have tea in her cup, but I like all kinds, especially herbal.

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is so good. I should have read it when I was a kid. Back then I was reading any YA book that included talking animals. Go figure! Anyway, I love this book! Anna Karenina made me cry in parts too.

Elizabeth Kathryn Gerold-Miller said...

Norman, I think you can trust any human that will dress you in people clothes.

Loren Christie said...

And so I dress the cat in people clothes. So, doesn't everyone?

Dear Internet Traveler,

Welcome to my writer's blog, started about six years ago for fun. Over time, the writing I have posted has ranged from personal reflection, to Long Island history research, to tall tales for my own amusement, to feature articles for local newspapers. As you can see from topics listed here, I travel in many mental directions in regard to interests. Click on the tabs and labels to explore my strange mind which senses that you may be having a criss-cross day. If so, perhaps this blog will distract you. However, please note that if you tell me my blog is beautiful just to get me to advertise rhinoplasty surgery and cheap drugs from Canada in your comment, I will ask the gods to give you a tail that cannot be concealed.


Loren Christie

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