Friday, May 01, 2009

My Life as Norman Whiskers: Call Me Lover Boy




At two o'clock there is a knock on the door. It is a young girl carrying a text of large proportions and a rather hefty notebook. I run to the window to get a closer look at the possible intruder.




"Who is it , my Lady? Is this human a friend or stray person looking to steal my Friskies?!"




"Hush, Mr. Whiskers. This is just a girl from the youth group I run. She is not a foe, and PLEASE don't talk in front of her. Now go play scratch pole or something."


"Hmff!" I protest, prancing off.



"Go play with your scratch pole or something?! Go play with your scratch pole or something!?"



My Lady's harsh words circle through the orifices of my cat brain. I start to worry. My mind goes haywire. Maybe she's growing tired of me, as is the way with seasonal love! Perhaps this new human is more fascinating and cunning than I! Next she'll be bringing me back to AL-CAT-RAZ!


"OH SORRY DAY!" I shout.



Hell Hound looks up from the spot in the corner of the dining room where she is sprawled. I frown, disappointed. She's been there so long I was beginning to think she may have kicked the bucket.




The dog attempts to stand up quickly at attention, but her tiny legs give out under her enormous body.



"What's wrong, Sargeant Whiskers, Sir?"



"Nothing soldier Hell Hound. I'm just working out some strategies in my head. Go play with your bones."




The dog trots off, not the least bit insulted. Why can't I be that simple?



I spy my Lady with the intruder in the kitchen. The giant text is open, and just like my little governess, my Lady appears to be teaching. I recognize the story; it's Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.



"Of, course, one of her favorites," I think. I fetch a tattered paperback version of Romeo and Juliet from a high shelf in the parlor, (because I'm agile like that).


I retreat to my lair, inside the downstairs bathroom sink cabinet, to hatch a plan as to how I might win back my Lady's heart.


"Shakespeare! The language of Love! A CAPITAL idea." I mutter to myself in the dark space. Then I begin my study of the words.


Later that evening I stalk out my Lady in the porch. She is reading in her favorite chair, and Milk Man is there also. I wait behind the jade plant until Milk Man retreats to the kitchen to refill his coffee cup. Then I make my move, jumping up on my Lady's lap.




"Norman, What are you doing? You're sitting on my book." She protests.


"Oh speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him...um...er....and so on, and so forth, I love you, I love you."


I daresay, my plan to re-strike my Lady's heart with Cupid's arrow works! She gasps in surprise.


"Norman! You memorized a piece of Act 2, Scene 2 of Romeo and Juliet for me? How SWEET!"


(Kiss on the nose)



Just then, Milk Man returns.

Caught up in the passion of the tale, I draw my claws and swipe my rival, like Paris apprehending Romeo at the Capulet's tomb.


"Hey, Hey! What do you think your doing, there, lover boy? Keep your claws in." Obviously he is challenging me to a duel, so I swipe again and my claw gets stuck on his shirt.


"Hey, HeY! Watch it there. No play!" Milk Man shouts as I struggle to free my paw.


My Lady scoops me up and unlatches my claw from my foe's armor.




My Lady scolds this Milk Man. "Why didn't you help him with his paw? He obviously was stuck on your shirt?"



Milk Man frowns and leans into my face, in quite a confrontational way. "Oh, excuse me LOVER BOY who can do no wrong." The phone rings and he leaves to answer it as I settle once again on the lap of my wonderful Lady.



Milk Man is CLEARLY jealous of my gallant and charming nature. He's worried he may be sent to AL-CAT-RAZ. I sense non-verbal signs of fear. However, I still must watch this rival closely. I close my eyes, purring softly. Just like in the movies, the hero, (in this case, me), always wins back his Lady in the end.




Cheerio!

-Norman Whiskers




3 comments:

Sandra said...

You've got him right where you want him, Mr. Whiskers. :)

jen said...

I love character development of Norman! "Go play scratch pole or something." That's funny. AL-CAT-RAZ. I had to read it twice. Hilarious!

I will check out that book you recommended. I know I will love it. It sounds like something I'd read!

Gennifer X. said...

Well thank you for adding me back! I'm also a cat lover. And a jewelry lover :)

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.

Fondly,

Loren Christie

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