Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: CHECKING IN OR OUT (hotel/motel on vacation) (08/27/15)
- TITLE: Monty's Holiday Diary
By Katherine (Kat) Kane
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I should’ve guessed something was up long before the cat carrier appeared. Suitcases always spell trouble. Whatever possessed me to rely on the dog’s help to escape? I just needed her to create a hullabaloo at the front door (something she excels at), so I could jump through the kitchen window unseen. So what if no one was at the door? Even for a dog, she is impressively stupid.
So now I'm stuck here, at the cattery. And frankly, it sucks. So far, zero stars for the litter, if that's what it's supposed to be. I mean, who wants to walk on that every time they need to do the necessary? And then there’s the cramped living conditions. And to crown it all, there are plump, tasty birds out there, hopping from bush to bush, taunting me…confound you, dog!
Insufferable cows and their bellowing! Don’t they know what time it is? Even dogs have the decency to keep their noise to themselves until a respectable hour.
Speaking of the dog, it makes my blood boil that she – that slobbering, mangy flea magnet – is currently having a ball on holiday with the humans, while I’m stuck in this dump.
Absolutely nothing else to do but sleep, if I can. That bed is revolting, and today I'm itching all over.
Spent the rest of the day grooming myself, considering what reaction would make the humans feel guiltiest when they come to get me. Fawn over them, perhaps? Nah, more fun to ignore them. The dog? Don't ask.
A rancid breakfast proved the least of my worries today. Another cat carrier appeared in the pen opposite mine. It ceased to be a welcome distraction from grooming myself (again) when a familiar pair of mauled tabby ears protruded from the carrier: Bruiser, the neighbourhood bully! Now really cursing the dog and her dimwittedness for landing me in this nightmare.
Bruiser is the limit! At home, he’s dreadful; but here, he’s torture personified. I wish he’d stop glaring at me and clean up his language.
I’m trying to keep myself busy in order not to let Bruiser get my hackles up. Besides, all this grooming will give me a hairball. That and I’m thinking too much. Like today, I concluded Her Canine Stinkiness has one redeeming feature: evicting hooligans, like Bruiser, from my territory. If only she were here now, Bruiser would quit smirking...
I cannot believe I'm saying this, but I’m missing the dog. And not just for deterring Bruiser. Granted, her barking drives me nuts, but there's never a dull moment when she’s around. Like when she runs off with socks and the humans chase after her. Or how she knows ‘bath-time’ means run and hide.
Most of all, I miss her plaguing me for a game. True, her timing’s lousy – I mean, who in their right mind wants to be disturbed from a well-earned nap just to play chase – but her persistence demonstrates she values my existence. Even a good cuff on the nose doesn't appear to diminish her desire to play with me – not with her toys or the humans – but with me.
Tried to sleep but couldn't. Does Bruiser ever shut up?
Spent all day feeling miserable and pining for the dog.
I did have a little diversion tonight chasing a spider. Most fun I've had in days.
But one thing is for sure: when I do eventually check out of here, I'll be leaving my bad attitude towards the dog behind.
Oh! Oh! Can it be?
I prick up my ears. My pulse quickens as I hear the familiar voices of the little humans echoing from the corridor. Even the succulent bird hopping around beneath my window can't hold my interest. The door squeaks open and my little humans tumble in, followed by the two big humans.
“Daddy! Mummy! Look! It’s Monty!”
I relish the feel of little fingers running through my coat. Oh, how I have missed their caresses. I rub my head on the big male human’s hand.
“Good heavens,” he declares, “Monty is in a friendly mood. Listen to him purring like an engine! He must’ve liked this place. Are you sure that’s our cat?”
“We’ll find out when he sees the dog,” grins the big female human. “C’mon, kids. Let's get him home.”
I smile to myself. Now, how shall I entice the dog into a game?
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