I was sitting on the floor, opening a box that had been delivered that morning. Freddie sat on the couch looking over my shoulder with great interest.
“Can I have the box?” he asked.
I tipped my head towards the window where his beds were laid out. “You have a space capsule right there,” I pointed out.
“So I can have it?”
I sighed, ripping off the last of the tape. “I’ll wait a few hours to break it down,” I conceded. I pulled out the box’s contents. It was a furry, fake spider, about Freddie’s size. “Look!” I said, proudly holding it up.
He stretched his neck forward and gave it a sniff. “It doesn’t smell like anything,” he said.
“It’s not real. It’s just for scares.”
“It doesn’t look very scary,” he said.
“It’ll scare little trick or treaters,” I said, happily.
He frowned at me.
“It’s not mean,” I insisted. “They get free candy.”
“You should give them tuna treats,” he said, sagely. “That’s much more tasty than candy.”
“You only think that because you can’t taste sweet,” I said.
His frown deepened.
“You can look at memes, though!” I said, quickly.
You know how this works, but as always, a gentle reminder:
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“Oh my gosh, adorable,” I crooned.
“I’m cuter though, right?”
“One hundred percent cuter!” I agreed.
“There’s a classic horror movie where this was kind of the twist ending,” I explained before he could ask.
“It was about meowing?” he wondered.
“Not exactly — “
“Because you humans don’t understand when we speak that well. So I can see how it would be scary. The cat probably just wanted the human to lie down with her leg bent so the cat could sleep in the well made by her legs.”
I stared at him. “That’s really specific,” I said.
He looked down at my legs, straight out in front of me. “Yeah,” he said, sadly.
"Would you like a bed like that?” I asked.
“I could probably sleep in it once,” he said, amiably.
“Just once?”
He looked at it again. “Probably just once.”
“It’s like when I wake up sometimes and you are staring at me like a creeper,” I said.
“I just like to watch you,” he explained.
“That’s not less creepy.”
I chuckled. “It’s funny because cats like to knock stuff off tables,” I said.
“We do?” he asked, his gaze going to my water glass.
“Not you, though!” I said quickly.
“I don’t have a squirt bottle because you don’t knock things off tables,” I said. “You’re a good boy.”
“I am a good boy,” he said, slowly, still watching my water glass. I picked it up and took a quick drink, setting it down out of his reach.
“Oh my this is very squee,” I told Freddie.
“Squee?”
“Squeeeeeeeeee!” I shrieked.
He hunched his shoulders and flattened his ears.
“She’s probably a witch,” I said, wisely. “You can tell because of the broom.”
“You have a broom,” he pointed out.
“What are you trying to say?”
"Oooh,” I breathed. “Those are some impressive teef!”
“When you call them that it doesn’t sound very impressive,” he complained. “Our teeth are not cute. They are dangerous.”
“Yes!” I agreed. “Dangerously cute teef!”
"Don’t say it!” he warned.
“Murder mittens!” I shouted.
He sighed.
“That’s a good movie,” I told him. “I’ll show it to you sometime.”
“That’s us before watching it,” I said.
“I’m not wearing a costume,” he sniffed.
“Ooooh, fancy costume!”
“Absolutely not.”
“This isn’t really a costume but it works.”
“Not even this,” he growled.
“You’re no fun,” I told him.
Freddie gasped.
“This would never happen,” I assured him. “To be truly scary it has to be somewhat realistic.”
“Like that one where the man with the razor glove who visits teenagers in their dreams?”
“When did you watch Nightmare on Elm Street?” I asked.
“You keep threatening to dress me up as him,” he said, dryly.
“Oh! Right. But that one was based on a true story.”
He gaped at me and I moved on.
“That’s you!” I laughed.
“You should always feed me,” he sniffed.
He frowned at me.
“The can opener is not broken and is not even needed to open your food. I just need my fingers for that,” I explained, wiggling them at him.
We stared at it in silence for a long moment. “That’s...probably you,” I said.
He said nothing for a moment. “...probably…,” he agreed.
I shuddered a little. “Welp,” I said, shutting the laptop with a snap. “That’s enough memes for now.” I checked my watch. “You’re late for your nap!” I said with a gasp.
He stood and arched his back in a satisfying looking stretch. “Oh! Biiiiiiig strreeeeeeetch!” I said. He rubbed his head against the back of mine and then jumped off the couch. “Where did you put that box?” he demanded.
Happy Caturday, Peeps! We are gearing up for the holiday here at Casa Freddie, complete with fake spiders, a big laughing plastic jack-o-lantern, and a big, blow up cat!