By Patrick Sipperly (Stormy/Family/Holidays)
Margaret looked out the window to where the flying snow whipped against the glass. For once the weatherman was right. She sipped her morning coffee and wondered if her sister and her family would make it through the blizzard in time for her famed Thanksgiving meal.
Sabastian sat on the hardwood floor quietly looking up at her with his confident green eyes.
“It's a wild storm out there, kitty. Hope the roof can hold all that snow and the pipes don't freeze again. Why does it seem to happen during the holidays.”
A card on the table stopped her from reaching down to pet her furry friend. Margaret picked it up and began to read while Sabastian eyed her.
Dear Provider,
For several years now, we've lived in relative harmony. You've met most of my needs without me having to remind you too often. However, about this time of year, I am assaulted by humans of all sizes, noise levels and odors. You refer to them as “family” a term you often use to describe me. But I can assure you, we are not related.
This note is to inform you my tolerance has come to an end.
The razors protruding from my paws have been skillfully prepared for those two shorter fat people who insist on pulling my tail and chasing me up the stairs. If you don't stop them, I will.
The others seem to know their place around me, so I don't anticipate any problems from them. Which leaves you.
You seem to forget that I have a keen sense of smell and an appetite. I watch you prepare enormous birds for the others, while you completely skip over my eating container. What are you thinking?
This is what is going to happen from here on out: You will prepare my own big bird before everyone else gets theirs. I will eat my fill without interruption and everyone will keep their distance. If this is done, all will be well. If not, than take a good look around at your expensive drapes, that big tree with all the shiny stuff on it, and the white carpet in the living room you just steam cleaned. Because I swear the raging storm outside will be the least of your concerns.
Margaret lowered the card to see Sabastian's unflinching emerald stare.
He waited for an answer.
Margaret looked out the window to where the flying snow whipped against the glass. For once the weatherman was right. She sipped her morning coffee and wondered if her sister and her family would make it through the blizzard in time for her famed Thanksgiving meal.
Sabastian sat on the hardwood floor quietly looking up at her with his confident green eyes.
“It's a wild storm out there, kitty. Hope the roof can hold all that snow and the pipes don't freeze again. Why does it seem to happen during the holidays.”
A card on the table stopped her from reaching down to pet her furry friend. Margaret picked it up and began to read while Sabastian eyed her.
Dear Provider,
For several years now, we've lived in relative harmony. You've met most of my needs without me having to remind you too often. However, about this time of year, I am assaulted by humans of all sizes, noise levels and odors. You refer to them as “family” a term you often use to describe me. But I can assure you, we are not related.
This note is to inform you my tolerance has come to an end.
The razors protruding from my paws have been skillfully prepared for those two shorter fat people who insist on pulling my tail and chasing me up the stairs. If you don't stop them, I will.
The others seem to know their place around me, so I don't anticipate any problems from them. Which leaves you.
You seem to forget that I have a keen sense of smell and an appetite. I watch you prepare enormous birds for the others, while you completely skip over my eating container. What are you thinking?
This is what is going to happen from here on out: You will prepare my own big bird before everyone else gets theirs. I will eat my fill without interruption and everyone will keep their distance. If this is done, all will be well. If not, than take a good look around at your expensive drapes, that big tree with all the shiny stuff on it, and the white carpet in the living room you just steam cleaned. Because I swear the raging storm outside will be the least of your concerns.
Margaret lowered the card to see Sabastian's unflinching emerald stare.
He waited for an answer.
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