Cats

Cream with dollops of caramel coloring, Macchiato kneads the afghan on the couch. Tips of fur the color of a lightly toasted marshmallow, Mr. Toasty naps on the recliner.

A beautiful fall afternoon, I go out on the patio and close the screen behind me. Sitting in my comfy chair, I light a cigarette. My downstairs neighbor Jenta takes garbage to the dumpster then stops to chat. I stand and move closer to the railing.

Unnoticed by me, Mr. Toasty comes up to the screen and waves his tail. “There she goes again. Why won’t Ma let us go outside with her?”

Macchiato sighs as she joins him. “There’s always that awful smell when she does this.”

He flicks an ear. “It’s not as bad as when I lived with that man. He was always surrounded by smoke clouds. Besides, I want to explore. Maybe get close to one of those hummingbirds.”

She licks his ear. “They certainly look tasty.”

He switches his tail. “She isn’t paying attention. I know I can pop it open. Let’s go!”

Macchiato nips his ear. “Don’t think we should. She’ll get out that blue bottle. I don’t like it. I hate water!”

“That won’t stop me. Besides, Ma has a terrible aim. She rarely sprays me with a single drop of water. You’re such a scaredy cat!” He almost chuckles. “I’ll give her one of my disdainful looks as I strut away.”

She sighs. “You were never abused, or you’d be afraid too.”

“Ma only raises her voice. She won’t hurt us!” Toasty places his paw on the screen. He carefully stretches out his claws and pushes the screen sideways. “Let’s go!”

He struts outside and heads south to the planter furthest from where Ma stands. Macchiato squeaks as her paw touches the concrete pavement. I hear her and swiftly turn to scold her. “What are you doing? Get back inside!”

She turns back. As I close the screen, I notice him. “What do you think you’re doing lover boy?”

He ignores me and tries to burrow past the planters. I pick Toasty up and open the door. I give him a little push to propel him indoors. He struts away with a haughty flick of his tail.