I opened the curtains on the front window, flooding the living room with light, then walked to the couch and sat on the small part of it that was mine. Freddie owned the rest of this couch, in a room where we only rarely spent time. He liked to sleep on this couch when it was too warm for human company.
As he was now.
The end closest to the fireplace was my end; it was where I sat when I gave him his insulin and treats after he ate. It was the only part not completely covered in his fur (we keep it covered in a blanket we can periodically wash for this reason).
Freddie lifted his head and looked at me. “Treats?” he asked, mildly confused.
“No,” I said, indicating the front window with a jerk of my chin. “Parade.”
A gentle reminder of how we do things: 🐱🐶🐦
- Do not troll the diary. If you hate pootie diaries, leave now. No harm, no foul.
- Please do share pics of your fur kids! If you have health/behavior issues with your pets, feel free to bring it to the community.
- Pooties are cats; Woozles are dogs. Birds... are birds! Peeps are people.
- Whatever happens in the outer blog STAYS in the outer blog. If you’re having “issues” with another Kossack, keep it “out there.” This is a place to relax and play; please treat it accordingly.
- There are some pics we never post: snakes, creepy crawlies, any and all photos that depict or encourage human cruelty toward animals. These are considered “out of bounds” and will not be tolerated. If we alert you to it, please remember that we do have phobic peeps who react strongly to them. If you keep posting banned pics...well then...the Tigress will have to take matters in hand. Or, paw.
"I don’t know what that is, but I do know that this is not the routine,” he said, annoyance starting to overtake confusion.
I pointed at the window again. “The neighborhood kids are doing a parade down the street for the holiday. This window will give us a perfect view.”
He just stared at me for a full minute. Finally, he said, “It’s sleep time right now.”
“Well, on a normal day I’d be at work right now. But it’s a holiday, so the routine changes a little.”
“I don’t like it,” he said.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a child on a bicycle fly past the front of our house.
“There’s a lot about today you aren’t going to like,” I said, focusing my attention on the window and leaning back to lounge on the couch.
“I don’t like that, either!” he said, standing.
“Look!” I said, pointing out the window as a group of children rode past the house, their bikes adorned with red, white, and blue streamers and training wheels. “They're so cute!”
Freddie jumped to the back of the couch where the blanket had fallen and exposed the couch and dug in his claws, sharpening them in an act of destructive self comfort.
"You needed the high ground?” I asked once he had settled.
“None of this is right,” he grumbled. The claws of one paw was dug into the couch as if he were afraid someone was going to push him off.
Outside, a woman walked past, pushing a few toddlers in a wagon decorated with American flag bunting. The little ones were laughing and waving flags. “Oh my god,” I said.
"Human, what is the point of this?” he wondered.
“It’s to celebrate the holiday. I admit, I’m not in much of a mood for it, which I suppose is why I’m sitting in here instead of out there. But the kids are having a great time and I can get behind that.”
“What holiday?” he wondered. “You didn’t put up that weird shiny tree.”
“Independence Day,” I said, regretfully.
He gasped.
Freddie jumped off the back of the couch and onto the cushion next to me. “Are the ducks going to attack again?!” he yelled.
“There were never any ducks,” I tried to explain.
“They make big booms and we have to hide!” he was looking around, frantic.
I stroked his fur and he shook me off. I sighed. “I promise, this has nothing to do with ducks. Why would they attack us? It’s not that.”
He looked at me like I had told him that the sky was purple. “They. Are. Ducks,” he said, slowly.
I shook my head. “You. Are. Safe.”
“I’ll make myself safe by hiding. I don’t know what you’re going to do. You don’t fit under the bed!”
Outside, the parade continued. I thought I noticed a few of the kids on bicycles going past again, like they had looped around the neighborhood and gone for a second pass.
“You are not going under the bed,” I said. “You are being ridiculous. It’s just humans with fireworks!”
His eyes shot to mine. “They’re working for the ducks?” he whispered.
“No, of course not.”
“I knew it. I knew humans weren’t to be trusted!”
The parade seemed to be coming to an end, the kids passing by with longer and longer gaps. Freddie had calmed down some, once again curled up next to me and trying to sleep.
I petted him, gently. “I’m glad we watched the parade together,” I told him.
He opened his eyes and looked up at me. “I need to rest,” he said, firmly. “If the danger is from humans controlled by ducks, then we need to be ready.”
“No, Freddie, that’s not it.”
“Go to your human bed. Rest up. It’s going to be a long night.” He closed his eyes again and dropped off to sleep.
“It should be an interesting night, at least,” I said, standing.
Happy Caturday, Peeps! I hope you had a nice holiday if you chose to celebrate. We spent the day with family and even though we weren’t in the spirit, it was nice to see all of them.
