There’s this loud noise that happens outside when the human is about to open the door and walk in. I don’t know what it is (because they don’t let me out, something I’m not mad about — it’s kind of scary out there!) but I always hear it right before I see her. When I hear it, I run to that door and wait for her.
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She opened the door and walked into the house. As soon as she saw me, she smiled. “Hi Freddie!” she said, happily.
I rubbed my head on one side of the doorway. “Hi!” I responded. “I’m glad you’re home!” Humans need this kind of affirmation, I’ve found.
She grinned at me. “I’m very glad to be home,” she said, walking past me into the house. I gave her a few minutes to set her things down and settle in. The humans have routines, and I try not to interrupt them too much.
Once she was relaxed and sitting on the couch, that weird box sitting on her lap and a drink in front of her, I came to her and curled up against her leg. She stroked my fur and we sat for a while, enjoying each other’s company. “Are you looking at other cats?” I asked, frowning.
“I’m just checking in with the Peeps,” she explained, giving me a good rub.
“Oh. Tell Ginger I said ‘hi!’”
She gave me a teasing grin. “I will.”
A few minutes went by while she typed and I purred.
“Did you have a good day?” she asked.
“It was OK,” I told her. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“What do you do all day when we’re gone? Are you lonely?”
I thought about it. “Not really,” I said slowly. “I mean, I’d be glad if you were here, but there is plenty for me to do.”
“Like sleep?”
Was she making fun of me? “Yes,” I said, a little defensive. “I slept some.”
I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Humans get most of their sleep all at once! It’s so weird. I see them do it every night. They lay down and don’t move until a loud noise wakes them. Then they grumble and complain about having to “start the day.” If they slept correctly — short to medium or long naps throughout the day and night — they wouldn’t be so grumpy all the time. I’ve explained this to the human and even demonstrated it for her, but she just says that she has to “work” to “make money” so she can “put kibble in your bowl.” I like kibble, but really. They are doing sleep all wrong.
“So you slept all day?” she asked, her hand still stroking my fur.
“Not all day,” I said. “I slept a lot, but there are other things I need to do when you’re gone.”
She frowned. “What is there for you to hunt in the house?” she asked.
“Weeeeeelll,” I said, “not so much in the house. I watch the lizards in the backyard. Just in case one gets in.”
“We’ve lived here almost twenty years and a lizard only came inside once. And it was a little thing.”
I remembered that. The human caught it and took it outside before I could get it. She doesn’t seem to understand what to do with the little lizards and creatures in and around the house. One time I watched her walk outside and stop when a lizard ran in front of her. She should have chased it and ate it, but instead she waited for it to run into the bushes and then just walked away! I think she even said “hello” to it! Honestly, sometimes I don’t know how these humans survive.
“So did you catch any today?”
“No,” I told her honestly. “But I saw a few. After that I...”
“That’s good,” she told me. “You need your rest.”
It’s true. I do.
“After that I went into the kitchen to find some food. You remembered to put the kibble in my bowl, so that was good.”
“Then I had to go around the house and make sure my scent is still everywhere it needs to be.”
“Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. “I didn’t know that was something you did so deliberately.”
“Oh, yes,” I explained. “I have to make sure my scent is fresh and is in all my spaces. Otherwise, how will you all know what is mine?”
“Huh. I never thought of it that way. OK. After that was done, what was next?”
“That should be obvious,” I said.
“I like when you leave your bed all messy,” I told her. “It makes it very warm and comfortable.”
“I keep that in mind,” she said with a laugh in her voice. Her fingers found the top of my head and started rubbing in the way I like. I paused my story to enjoy it for a minute. There are lots of things she doesn’t understand, but she does know how to rub my head just right. I guess that’s the most important thing.
"There are some things I can’t really tell you about,” I continued after a minute.
“Oh yeah?” she said, eyebrows going up.
“Uh-huh.”
“It was a pretty good day. There weren’t any ducks in the backyard, so I have no reason to complain.”
“It’s the wrong time of year for ducks,” she told me quietly. “We won’t see them in the backyard for about another nine months.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good.”
“Did you do anything else?” she asked.
I thought for a minute. “Not really. I just waited for you to come home so we could eat together. I’m sure I’ll like whatever you’re having.”
She laughed at that for a long time. “What makes you think I’m sharing?” she asked, grinning.
I rolled my eyes. “Because you always do,” I said honestly.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’m definitely a sucker for that adorable face.”
I mean, who wouldn’t be?
Turnabout is fair play, I figured. I hope you enjoyed this as much as Freddie and I did.
I have to work again today, but I’ll be along later. 💛 💚 💙 💜