He didn't think he was much of a cat person until he met Matilda. She's even worse at this cat-human hybrid lifestyle than I am, he thought. He laughed derisively. I've got to do something about my derisive laugh, he thought. And maybe start talking aloud.
Matilda was trying to scratch a sofa, and failing miserably. "She's got no claws, that's her problem," he said aloud. Matilda turned and glared. "Oops, I should not have said that aloud," he said aloud.
"Oink," said Matilda.
"No, no, it's meow. Cats say meow. Pigs say oink. We are not pigs." I had been lapping up a bowl of milk and it was dripping from my chin like fatty dew drops onto my cat costume.
"Last time I checked, cats don't speak English either, Mr. Smarty-Fluffs. I mean, meow." Matilda said. She had me there.
I decided to go back to drinking my milk and minding my own business. The only thing worse than a bad cat person is one whose
A writer, reader, swashbuckler, former counter-spy, soda jerk, space cowboy, and honorary Professor of Not-Quite-Mad-But-Pretty-Unusual Sciences at the University of Genial Monsters (Go Smilin' Sasquatch!), Mark J. Hansen has secretly saved the universe numerous times, with more close calls than he cares to admit. He enjoys fast trips through time and space, arm-wrestling rainbows, eccentric headwear and kittens with British accents. When he is not sharing his Stories of the Amazing and the Amazingly Well-Written, he mostly hangs out in his hot-air balloon overlooking Skull Island with a root beer float and a parrot on each shoulder, practicing hypnotism and innovative shoe-tying techniques.
Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0
He didn't think he was much of a cat person until he met Matilda.