by Jackie Deal
I am Amber. The Attack Cat. Hear me roar! I am alert. Ready for battle. Ready to protect my home and family. I lie flat to the floor to escape detection by the enemy. My paws are ready to pounce. My ears are flat, back, the better to hear. My claws are unsheathed. I am a sleek, well-oiled killing machine. I am watching. Waiting.
There! Right in front of me: an alien monster disguised as a … a rug. Yeh, my Mistress thinks it’s just a rug. But I know better. I know that any minute now a space monster—will— Yes, there he is!
I pounce—flying low across the floor. A direct hit! I grab the corner of the rug/monster and flip him into the air. The soft underbelly is exposed and I dig my claws in. I shake him. Roll him. Crush him and will destroy him. He puts up a good fight. But I have right on my side; I will prevail. Oh, Help! He has me surrounded. I am smothered.
One final desperate maneuver and the rug/monster sails up into the air, releasing me. I flop, flat. Panting. Exhausted. I have given close to my all to protect my dim-witted Mistress.
Then my heavy-footed Mistress clomps across the floor. “Oh, you silly cat, look what you’ve done to my rug.” She stomps down the upturned edge of the rug. No monster attacks her. I have chased them away. I have overcome! She strides off and leaves me wounded and weary. That’s the thanks I get? No medal of valor for protecting home and hearth? Hey come back here! Not even a TREAT?
(Thanks to Fred Prout for the idea.)
Jackie you have gone way over the top. This is great. Cat people everywhere can identify with your description of Amber’s thought process.
We always enjoy all the great stories and updates. Looking forward to getting our spot at TV-SKP.
SKP 146620
AWL 101
Loved your story, thanks it sure made me laugh. Everyone certainly needs that. Keep writing ✍ your great stories.