Whenever I can't think what to write, my mind inevitably turns to cats. House cats, panthers, lions, tigers--this diverse species provides a wealth of amusement, adorableness, and awe. I consider them the most beautiful creature God created and long for the day my husband and I can adopt some of the domestic variety. Considering their height in my esteem, they seem a natural default topic when I'm at a loss for what to write, proving that "out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks" (Matt. 12.34 and Luke 6.45). Considering what else can come from the heart and mouth, I don't think cats are such a bad thing to hold precious, but my ailurophilia has earned comment. For instance, when I taught Basic English, my students observed that I must love cats because over half of my example sentences seemed to involve them. I was a bit more careful after that to incorporate topics the students might like, such as football and food.
More lately, as a writing exercise--but ostensibly for the Hutch Public Library's writing competition, which I didn't end up entering--I decided to draft a couple 100-Word Prose stories. However, lacking a topic . . . well, you can guess. I shall include the stories here so that you may also contemplate the value of and amusement derivable from felines:
He’d put his toys in my bed again. Grumbling at my pet’s poor respect for a girl’s space, I swept them to the floor and went to finish dinner. However, there was another unpleasantness: my pet had dropped some of my meat on the floor. I tentatively nibbled at whatever seemed unmolested but then heard my pet at the door. I met him . . . and the horribly sweet stench that entered with him. What had he been rolling in!? I complained, but he just made happy noises and dissolved my irritation with a skillful chin-scratch. I purred and mercifully forgave him.
The girl slammed the door and sat,
chin quivering.
The cat trotted up, tail dancing.
The girl exclaimed, “Kitty!” and tears
leaked as she clung to him.
The cat squirmed.
The girl complained, “You’re
supposed to comfort me!”
The cat jumped free.
The girl wailed, “You don’t care
either,” her face crumpling . . . then realized, of course—to a cat, that
matter isn’t important, and it made hurt pride war with her sense.
The cat nuzzled the girl and
purred.
The girl stroked him and meekly
said, “Thanks—I’ll make up,” kissed him, and returned.
The cat sat, resigned to
abandonment.
I really enjoyed them--Clever, touching, thought provoking and sweet! How did your prose fare at in the writing competition?
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you enjoyed them. I didn't enter actually them, though (I went back and clarified that above just now). I found out I'd have to be present that Sunday at the library and read them aloud to who knows how many strangers, and I decided I'd rather not. I can speak in public when necessary, but that didn't feel necessary. ><
ReplyDeleteAwww! But reading is also one of your talents!!! Is it already past?
ReplyDelete:) Yes--it was last month.
ReplyDelete