Bird

It's a dead bird.

What?

Outside.  It's a dead bird.  I didn't do it.

It is a bird.  Poor thing, must have hit a window.

It's too bad.  I could have eaten it if it had come in.

Oh, Noah!

Well, I could have.  That's what they're for.  Eating.

No, they aren't.

Oh, really?  Tell me about it, Chicken Eater... Devourer of Turkey....

Well, it's just different.  Those are raised to be eaten, but we don't eat robins.

I do...or I would if you'd bring me one.

No, I'm not doing it.

Then let me out, and I'll get my own...self-serve!

Again, I say, you are done being an outdoor cat.  Remember how it was before we took you in?

Yes, and it's good now, but the food WAS fresher.

But more scarce.

How do you know?  I ate pretty well - chipmunk chops, minced mice, robust robins - now it's Frisky's paté...hardly "frisky", and definitely not worth PATéing either.  All this talk of food is making me hungry.

Would you like turkey or chicken paté today?

Robin... 

There's no robin paté.

Okay, whatever.  Surprise me.  No.  Make it turkey.

S is for Sunny Spots and Stuff

This is just what I needed.  Yeah.  Right.

What's wrong now?

Oh, nothing.  Nothing is wrong.  This sun is just about perfect in this spot.  Seems to be the only spot in the house.  Now.

It looks like a good spot to me.

Yes, maybe to you, but have you ever tried sleeping on the letter S?  There is no place to stretch out and let my belly get the sun it needs.   Do you see that my arms aren't extended and my tail is not straight?

I'm sorry, but I have things partially packed, but now we are being delayed - so what?  You think I should UNpack stuff and put it away again?

Oh, heaven's, no.  Not on my account.  But you know this is why I have to walk across the kitchen table lately, right?

I've noticed you doing that.  Explain to me why that is...

I have no table...count 'em.  No table to sit on right now.  Table number 1, my favorite, the computer table where I help you write, has been filled up with glush, and then Table number 2, my puzzle table, there are boxes and piles of stuff, so I can't rearrange a puzzle nor can I keep an eye out for strangers and deer from the front window.  I have nowhere to conduct my business or relax here!

I'm sorry, but I haven't figured out what to do with all the stuff yet.

There's a trash bag in my chair.

This is not all to throw away.  Some is to give away.  Some is to sell.  The new house is smaller, so only some of these things will go with us to the new house.

What?  The new house is smaller?  Wait.  New house?  What new house? Was I consulted about this?
Which pile does the dog go in?

Tape Dispenser

Paper or plastic?  Here you go, dog, paper it is.

Noah, what are you doing?

I’m just obliging the dog.  She wanted something to chew on.

Well, she can’t have that stuff.  Just leave it right there.

You know I can’t do that.  It’s playable.  The table is slick, the sun is out, the paper is there...along with a nice skiddable roll of tape.  What were you expecting?

No, really.  She cannot have that stuff.

Well, then I think someone ought to have moved it somewhere so the dog can't get it.

It IS somewhere the dog can’t get it.

Yes, but not somewhere I can’t get it.  And if I can get it, then we all know what that means...or I thought we all knew.

Okay.  I'll move it.

That will be fine.  I don’t really care WHO clears the table off - you or I, but I do like a nice cleared off table.  The sun is coming out and I’m feeling the urge to nap.  Could you hurry?

You might try saying “Please”.

Oh, yes, I suppose I MIGHT, but we both know that isn’t going to happen.

There is a Squirrel

So, what are you looking at out there?  Must be good!

I haven't eaten one in a long time, but it looks as good as the one I ate a while back.

That's right.  You were an outdoor cat before you came here.

I AM an outdoor cat.

Well, you are indoors now that you live with us. 

I may be an indoor cat on the outside, but I'm an outdoor cat on the inside.

What?

You heard me.

So, you mean you still consider yourself an outdoor cat?

So you did hear me.

Bed Monster

Noah, attacking a bed monster.

So what was that all about last night?

"What was what all about?"

You know.  That little madness going on at the foot of the bed last night.

"Little madness?  There was a monster in your bed."

There was no monster.

"Oh, there was.  Believe me."

There was no monster.  I would have known.  I was sleeping and my feet would have been touching it.

"Your feet?"

Yes, my feet.  You were jumping all over them.

"Oh, that couldn't have been your feet.  It was too big to be feet, I'm sure.  And too squirmy.  Monsters are squirmy when you jump about on them, and these were definitely squirmy."

Yes, because you were jumping on them and wrestling them.  You got a claw through, too.  See my ankle?

"That is not my claw mark.  That is clearly the bite of a bed monster."

Do not do that again tonight!  I will kick you off the bed.

"If I hadn't been there to subdue the monster last night, who knows if you would even have feet today?  I was only protecting you.  Someone needs to be on guard at night, and I have just the eyes and claws to do that!"

I will be fine.  Just stay on your towel, keep your hairs off my blanket, and leave my feet alone.

"I do leave your feet alone.  We will just have to see what the bed monster has in store for tonight.  A cat has to do what a cat has to do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bed Monster

Toes squirm

Heels wiggle

Calves tremble

Knees jiggle 

Cat scrambles

Then pounces

Legs flail

Cat bounces

Cat monster

Attacks the sheet

But bed monster's

Just my feet!*

*Noah has requested that I add this note about my poem: "This is fictional.  Bed monsters are real monsters; they are not feet.  And I am not a 'cat monster'.  This is clearly a fictitious cat.  Any resemblance to me is purely coincidental, accidental and unintentional, I'm sure."

It's Caturday Again

It's Cat - I mean Sat-urday.

"No, you were right the first time."

Well, really there is no day named 'Caturday'; it's Saturday.

"A grievous oversight."

Maybe, but that's just how it is.

"Be that as it may, today is still MY day.  And I'm wondering what wonderful things we  should say about me today."

I can't think of anything yet.  It's been a slow week for you.

"I did Pilates with the ball for a while.  Then I wrestled with that intruder, but you took it away."

Yes, well, that was the cord to charge the dog's training collar, so we didn't need it destroyed.

"Huh.  Really.  I am not fond of that collar.  I'm going to tell her it's you who is pressing a button to make her stop chasing me."

Do not tell the dog anything.  You tease the dog on purpose, and then she gets all excited and crazy.  I need to have her pay attention to me and calm down!

"Why?  She is very good at paying attention."

Yes, to you.

"I can help with her lessons."

Don't help.  You've done enough already - like batting the ball down the basement stairs so you can play with it down there.  You know that drives her nuts!

"She needs to know how to share.  I'm teaching her."

That's not teaching her.  That is harassing her.

"I suppose next you will say playing with the dog treats you keep on the table is harassing her, too."

Yes, I suppose I will.

"Maybe you should not write about me today.  You seem a little out of sorts.  I think I should take a nap until you are ready to write something wonderful.
Could you please open the bedroom door?"

Sure.

"Thanks.  Leave it open.  I may want to come out."

Of course you will.  Would you like the TV on?

"No, I'm fine.  Just top off my bowl while you are out in the kitchen.  It may be low.  I'll be out later to make sure you did."

Saturday-caturday!  Might as well tidy his litter box while I'm at it.

"You must be Claude."

**********************************************

Mewsday

Noah thanks you for your kind words on Caturday, and has requested another day.  Today.

My husband was kind enough to hold this roll up for me.

I need wrapping paper.  Where did I put my wrapping paper?

"Perhaps you don't have any."

Yes, I have some.

"Well, maybe you don't.  Maybe you need to get some."

Why would I need to get some?  I bought some just a little while ago.  I just don't remember where I put it.

"Well, it will be too hard to find now.  Maybe you should go buy some more at that store near my cat food store."

Wait.  I remember.  I put the roll under my bed.  Just a minute.

"I think you should not look there.  That's my area under the bed.  It is too dark under there for you to see anyway."

What's this?  This was my new wrapping paper!

"Oh, is that it?"

Yes.  This is my wrapping paper.  It has holes all through it!  What did you do?

"Ripping.  Ripping paper.  I thought you said 'ripping' paper.  So I did."

It's wrapping paper - for wrapping presents so they look nice.

"I think it looks quite festive myself...let the good times roll and all that."

This is going to be hard to put a good spin on, Noah.

"Oh, speaking of "spin", could you put another roll of white paper on the thingy in the bathroom.  We seem to have run out."

To Noah, For Noah, About Noah

It's Saturday and Noah says that it is his turn.

He has requested a poem, a poem for him, about him, to him...an it had better be good.

"I would like a poem.  A good poem."

What should it be about?

"Me."

Of course.  Um, can I use your name in it?

"That would be nice."

 Would you like a funny poem or a serious poem?

"I think if it were about me, it would be serious. Don't you?"

Yes, I suppose it would.

"I will read it when you are done.  Make sure you say something about how sharp my claws are."

Oh, yes, I think I can do that.  I think I have a picture that can illustrate that.

"Illustrate?"

Yes.  I picture that shows how nice and sharp your claws are.

"We will see.  It must show me in a good light.  Just enough scary in it to be imaginable.  They don't need to see my claws, just what they can do."

 Let's see.  How about this one?

"This is not my sharpest claw work. But I do like the waterfall effect I've created here."

So is this one okay?

"Yes.  You may use that one.  Poem?"

Yes, poem.  Let's see what I can come up with.

"Make it a good one.  I'll wait here."

**************************

A Job Well Done

He came into the bathroom
The room was looking neat
He saw a roll of paper
Right beside a seat
He flexed his claws and stretched them
He stood on his back feet
He placed his front ones on it
And said, "This will be sweet."
With a patter, patter, patter
He began to beat
With motions that unraveled
Each little paper sheet
Until he had a mountain
And unrolling was complete.
He couldn't think what else to do
The paper lay in pleats
His job was done, there was no more
It must be time for eats.

For Noah, about Noah, to Noah - by Donna JT Smith
****************************

Done.

"Yes, that will do.  Now about those 'eats'.  Did you see my bowl?  There are only two pieces in it.  Why are there not more?"

Coming.

Noah Edits My Page - His Page, I Mean

So when is Christmas coming?

Christmas doesn't come again until December.

What? Christmas was here already?

Yes. Remember, we got Ginger for Christmas. Let's just not start that again.

You are telling me Christmas came and went and did not take this dog?

Christmas doesn't TAKE things - it GIVES things. Actually, people give things AT Christmas÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷[]p===================bv ÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷.

Well, this still doesn't explain anything. Christmas can't GIVE us a dog that is supposed to be FOR Christmas... Anyway, this dog is still here. Can Christmas take it when they come back again?

No. The dog is ours now. She is staying here.

Sigh. She keeps licking my head. Tell her to stop that, and maybe she can stay.

Well, I'll tell her, but she's a puppy and she likes you. And puppies don't listen very well. It would help her immensely if you didn't hang your tail off the edge of the computer table like that.

I will stop doing that if she stops walking by the table with her tail wagging.  You know I can't take that!

I know.  But just like you can't stop grabbing her tail, she can't help but lick your head.

Well, if that's how it's going to be for a while, I will have to revisit the box idea.

What box idea?

Oh, just something I was thinking of doing if it came to this, and it appears it has.

What box idea?

Oh, nothing.  It probably won't work anyway.  She doesn't eat EVERY day, does she?

Why did you just write "Noah Edits My Page"... shouldn't it be "Noah Edits HIS Page"?
And what do you mean?

See the stuff in the middle? All the +++ signs and all?  You did that while you were playing with the puppy.

I don't play.

Did We Get This For Christmas or Not?

This is not supposed to be in my house.

What is not supposed to be here?

That.  Over there.  That.

That puppy?  Isn't she cute?  We got her for Christmas.

Oh, then it won't be staying long.  Could we give it to Christmas soon?

No, she's not FOR Christmas.  She is a present we got for Christmas - a Christmas present - a gift for Christmas.

So it IS a present for Christmas, then?  Why aren't we giving it to Christmas in that case?

Because it is a present for us.

Not for Christmas?

For us, for Christmas - but not FOR Christmas.  You don't give things TO Christmas.

Well, I want to change that tradition.  Let's give this puppy to Christmas.  I've had enough of it.  Wrap it up.
I think it will make Christmas very happy -
and me a lot merrier.