“Stop following me!”
Fat screams and lunges at her tail. She ninja rolls across the carpet and chases her hindquarters in a circle until her front claws catch her tail and the miniature lioness bites herself.
“Ow.” Fat immediately releases her tail and recoils as though the appendage is her enemy. She gives it the death stare.
I look up from a book I’m racing to finish; it’s due back at the library today and I can’t renew it again.
“You’re an idiot.” I resume the sentence that I let get interrupted by kitty nonsense.
“I will never apologize for my killer instinct.” Fat flexes her claws as if the action is evidence to support her statement.
“Crap.” The book claps shut on my lap and I sit up as my defective memory shorts out. “What day is this?”
“Monday…” Fat’s green eyes narrow with uncertainty. “Why are you asking a question reserved for a character from A Christmas Carol? You lack the acting chops to play Dickens’ Scrooge, Boss.”
“Monday, okay. I almost forgot; you have somewhere to go tomorrow.” I hold the hardcover novel in front of my face like a shield, expecting the feline to lash out.
Fat offers a short hiss. “I have no reason to go see the vet, I’m the model of perfect health.” She sprawls on the carpet and her gut takes up real estate on the floor.
My head shakes with vigour. “Nope. No vet. Your killer instinct just reminded me that I told a friend of mine you would go spend a night at his warehouse.”
I’m met with a disdainful gaze as Fat smoothes out her whiskers. “I don’t know if you’re starting a new career in animal pimping, but I’m going to throw you a big fat no on that one. You can’t just loan me to somebody. That’s cruel.”
I swing my legs over the side of the couch and sit up properly, abandoning the comfort of my reading nook. “You misunderstand. He’s got a mouse in his warehouse and was looking for a great huntress that will take care of the problem. I could think of no finer than you to come to the lad’s aid.”
Fat contemplates, scrutinizes for sincerity, then slowly nods. “I know you’re stroking my ego, but yes, tell him I will be the hero he is looking for.”
Of course, over-the-top compliments would convince her, but the truth of the matter is she never had a choice. There’s a reason she calls me Boss.
Fat taps her paw against her chin, “It’ll be like a fishing vacation. An eat-what-you-catch outing. Finally, some real meat.” Fat brightens, finding a true reason to cooperate. “What are you going to do upon my departure?”
I shrug as though I have nothing to hide. “Enjoy the silence, probably.”
Fat shakes her head. “I kind of hope you take the time to do something foolish. It’s been far too long.”