Cat Vs. Human: Fight For ControlbyChicklet©
I think that my cat probably knows everything that goes on inside the house, and maybe in the whole neighborhood. It wouldn't be a far stretch to imagine that she knows everything that's going on everywhere, at every second of the day. Sometimes I look into those big green eyes of hers and she seems to smirk at me, as though saying, "I know something you don't know." So when I see confusion in her eyes, I truly worry.
I was in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and the little pitter-patter of feet seemed to fill my ears. I looked behind me and sure enough, there she sat, her large green eyes pointed up at me in curiosity.
"Yes?" I asked, rhetorically. She doesn't often answer my queries, so I didn't expect a response to my question. I wasn't disappointed; she just sat there, her eyes fixed on me as I brushed my teeth.
The large orbs remained fixed on me and I found myself nervously shifting my weight from foot to foot, urging her to move or blink or any one of the things that would put me at ease. What was going on in her tiny little cat mind? Was she plotting the destruction of the Earth, my demise, or how to get up on the counter without me noticing? Who knows what was going on in her mind, but she would not tear her eyes away from mine.
To pull out of eye contact with a cat is admitting weakness. I am the first to agree that I am a slave to the little feline. If she needs food I feed her, if she needs water I fill up her bowl. If she wants her water in the sink all she needs to do is say the word and I fill it with water. I even clean up her feces. And I know that she knows she has all of the power in our relationship. Even though I will admit that she is in control, I don't want her to feel that she intimidates me. To admit such a thing would cause the balance of the universe to be tipped in her direction, and giving a cat that kind of power is a frightening thing. So my eyes remained locked on hers, my head straight as hers tilted in a curious was.
"What is it?" I said again, my voice almost desperate for an answer. She only glared up at me, her little mouth in a tight little line, the dark hair of her face twitching ever so slightly in the light breeze coming from the fan. She would not move, but neither would I.
I shifted my weight again and struggled to keep the froth from my toothpaste in my mouth as I kept brushing. Soon I would have to spit it out, I had no choice. If only the cat would look away so that I could go about my morning business without a power struggle. Struggling to swallow without taking a mouthful of paste with me, I blinked my eyelids, but would not look away from the tiny little face at my feet.
Cursing God for creating such a creature, I glared down at her. My eyebrows were beginning to pull together as I frowned at the cat, cursing God again, cursing the cat, cursing all cats everywhere, and finally cursing myself for caring for such a frustrating creature. This battle would not be over soon, and I feared that my "pet" would win. Her willpower seemed stronger than mine.
What was she trying to gain? Was she trying to put me in my place, at her feet, worshipping her like the tiny, furry, goddess she was? She knew she was in charge. Was she trying to humiliate me?
Indeed, I felt humiliated as the toothpaste began to drip out from between my lips, escaping from my full mouth and making its way down my chin. An idea struck me and I didn't wipe the froth away, allowing another stream of it to ooze out of my mouth and down my face. Slowly the river of saliva and toothpaste dripped down my chin, collecting in a large glob at the end and falling from my five-foot tall frame to the floor where it made a loud splatting sound.
It worked. The cat's eyes shifted from my eyes to the floor, where she examined the pool of fluid. Smirking, I watched as my cat lifted her paw and licked it off, as though to say, "I was growing tired of that game anyway."
I was the winner. I was victorious. I had come out on top, above the cat, ruler of the domain after all!
Turning around, I spat my mouthful into the sink and rinsed myself off, completing the routine. Taking the sponge I knelt on the ground and began to wash the puddle away. On my hands and knees I wiped up the minty fluid, smiling to myself for winning the contest.
My cat leapt onto my back, sitting on my shoulders a moment. I paused, looking up at her. She seemed to be grinning as she used me like a footstool and leapt from my back to the counter, sitting by the sink, waiting for it to be filled with water for her to drink.
Standing up I frowned at her, putting the plug in place and turning on the faucet. I was the winner. She should be serving me. I was the master.
She just smirked.
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