Patrick has been annoying me the past couple of days. Though he has tended to be a very happy boy of late (lounging long hours on my workstation whilst I work, curled up in his favorite kitty cup, with that eyes-closed, satisfied look that sleeping cats have), he's been a pain since about Tuesday: a red-and-white blur darting across my workstation or sitting in the space between my keyboard and my monitor, making a better door than a window.

Something was up. Patrick wasn't himself.

I would pat the kitty cup and invite him to curl up and take a nap. He would have none of it.

Then it dawned on me. I had taken his "regular" kitty cup, which was matted with fur (enough for a whole 'nother cat) and stuck it in the wash. A substitute kitty cup -- virtually identical to the regular one -- occupied my workstation. But Patrick hadn't been near that kitty cup, much less in it.

I went down to the basement to retrieve the freshly-washed and dried kitty cup and hauled it upstairs, replacing the substitute on my workstation.

Patrick sniffed it briefly, then immediately climbed into it and began kneading the rim with his paws and purring. Moments later, he was curled up, eyes tightly closed, looking supremely satisfied.

Silly cat.

Copyright © Robin Merica
September 23, 2000

Read Robin's other stories: A lost cat story with a happy ending & An Amazing, True, Lost Cat Story