What it Was That the Cat Did

Naala, the sleek, quiet-spoken black female cat of the household, was sitting in the corner by the front door like an errant child sent to the sit thusly for some transgression. I wondered what it was that she had done to warrant punishing herself thusly. She would not, of course, tell me…but she sat there, lost in what in whatever thoughts cats might have, staring at the corner still and unwavering for the better part of a quarter hour.

Mr. Gambino, her white-footed, tuxedoed brother, went over near her quizzically but, being a cat of fickle and fleeting attention, he quickly grew bored and ran off to find some more interesting mischief to get into.

Bart, the laconic third cat of the household, had not the slightest bit of interest in the situation and sued instead to be allowed to egress to his place of privacy, the small stack of towels atop the clothes dryer out in the garage.

Autumn, the old dog who rarely acknowledged the presence of any of the cats, slumbered peacefully in the family room her legs twitching as if she were running after some wily rabbit in her dreams.

After the quarter hour had passed, Naala, apparently haven’t served out her self-imposed penance, stretched and sauntered across the living room, past the kitchen, and out to the family room where she calmly leapt onto the couch and curled up and went to sleep.

I suppose I’ll never know what it was that the cat did :-)