ARE YOU KIDDING? I’M NOT A CAT

Liz Kollar

Joseph has taken over! At least, he thinks he has.

Last night he sat on my chest and tousled my hair with his paws, tugging and tweaking at it until he finally managed to wake me up, then he crawled between our bedcovers and finally fell asleep with his furry, bewhiskered face next to mine. Luckily, I didn’t kiss him, thinking he was my husband.

Joseph is our big, sleek-haired black cat who thinks he is one of us, a human, surely not a cat. He drinks from the water faucet in the kitchen sink in soft sensuous slurps. He’s hi-jacked our favorite rocking chair for his private pleasure, and he peers into our dinner plates with complete confidence, positive that the fancy food displayed there belongs to him. And, of course, he’s right. I’ve begun to share the tasty tidbits on my tray with him, and he meows, musically, in mellow appreciation.

After all, this is his food; this is his house, and we are merely living here. Joseph thinks he’s human and I’m almost convinced he’s right.

Copyright ©2003 By Liz Kollar