JustAnswer PixelPaws and Effect

Dahlia Tells AllMama had hoped Miss Katrina’s behavior would improve after she got her little talking-to, but alas, that didn’t happen. Sure, Katrina tried to be on her best behavior, but then, well, she just couldn’t help herself and she’d start hissing and spitting and cussing!

Well, Mama realized that Katrina was just one of those cats that need to be an Only Cat. The poor thing was just as miserable being a family cat as we were having her as a guest. So Mama did the only thing that was fair to all of us: She called Doctor Sarah’s office and asked them if they could help her find a new home for our little refugee. A couple of weeks later, Katrina left with one of Doctor Sarah’s clients, a woman with a dog whose cat friend had died recently. The dog was grieving terribly, said the lady, and since Katrina got along well with dogs, she’d be a great fit in this family.

Needless to say, although we were very proud of Mama for doing her best to help a cat in need, we were all delighted when Katrina finally got to go to her new home.

Peace and quiet reigned, at last. I could walk through the center of the apartment without getting pounced on! Thomas and I could share Mama’s lap without that little Katrina butting in and shoving us aside.

Then, one day, a few weeks later, Mama said her usual goodbyes to us — “See you later, kitties; you be good!” — but this time she added something else. “I’m going to be back pretty late today,” she said. “I’m going to a Play Rehearsal.”

Now, I understood “play,” but I had no idea what this rehearsal thing was all about. Thomas tried to explain it to me, but I said, “Well, why can’t she play ‘rehearsal’ at home?”

Siouxsie sighed. “You silly kitten, don’t you listen at all? A play is a thing where a whole bunch of humans get together and talk to each other while others watch. And sometimes they even sing.”

“Why can’t they all get together and talk and sing here?” I asked.

“Apparently they need a thing called a Stage,” Thomas said. “And for some reason they have to read a book and remember what they’re supposed to say to each other and when. It’s all very weird, if you ask me.”

Well, now I was even more confused!

“Just sit tight and you’ll understand soon enough,” Siouxsie said.

I was so impressed that she didn’t growl at me that I almost ran over and snuggled next to her. But instead, I curled up in a sun puddle and gazed at the birds doing their early-spring mating dances.

But then the hours passed. And passed. And passed.

It was getting dark, and my stomach was starting to rumble.

“Where’s Mama?” I asked. “I’m hungry!”

“She told you: she was going to a play rehearsal,” Siouxsie grumbled.

“But I want my supper!”

“You’re just going to have to wait,” Thomas said.

“But Thoooooomm-maaaaaaassss!”

“Listen,” he snapped. “I’m just as hungry as you are, and I can’t do anything about it, either! Do I look like I have opposable thumbs? No! So I can’t open the door, I can’t use the can opener, and I can’t open the refrigerator!”

The refrigerator! That gave me an excellent idea.

Im in ur fridge steelin ur noms

Well, I wouldn't exactly refer to it as STEALING. Names have been removed to protect the owner of the clearly starving cat in this image.

I hopped off the cat condo and started sniffing at the edge of the door. I could smell what was inside, and it smelled super-yummy.

This refrigerator was smaller than the one they had at the Shelter, and it was apparently just the right size for a single mama who ate most of her meals at work or at the big house. The good thing about a small fridge, I reasoned, is that it’s probably a lot easier to get into.

I started poking the soft rubbery stuff between the door and the refrigerator itself until I found a place where I could wedge my nose in. I pushed my head forward as hard as I could until finally the door just popped right open!

“Yay!” I cried as I reached up for a plastic bag filled with cheese-smelling yumminess. “Nyom, nyom, nyom,” I grumbled with delight as I chewed a hole in it and started licking the delicious goods within.

Thomas came running over and pulled out a bag full of sliced roast beef, and Siouxsie decided she’d have the butter.

We nommed and chewed and licked to our heart’s delight, and then we pulled out a loaf of bread to cleanse our palates.

And now that our stomachs were nice and full, we could rest easy until Mama came back and fed us our regular dinner.

There was just one thing: Even though we did a really good job of taking the food out and eating it, we weren’t as effective at putting the food back and hiding the evidence of our starvation-induced snacking.

When Mama got home, she took one look at the mess on the floor and said, “Siooooouuux-sieeeeee….” She put all the stuff back in the fridge and told us that the fridge isn’t for kitties. I figured the fridge sure was for kitties, especially if they’d been cruelly starved because their person felt it was more important to play ‘rehearsal’ than to feed the cats!

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