This week’s writing challenge revolves around my favorite inspiration: eavesdropping.
Following is a fictional, but somewhat true, account of eavesdropping by two felines. Names have not been changed, but liberties have been taken with the content.
Ziva: They are talking about us again.
Gibbs: What else is new?
Ziva: Don’t you want to know what they are saying?
Gibbs: If you hear “naughty boy,” it’s not about me, I swear.
Ziva: Shush! I’m trying to listen!
Gibbs: *seemingly uninterested*
Ziva: Mom is telling the other human about how they took brandy away from another human…I think it’s HER mom…and, anyhow, mom’s mom is “madder than a wet hen!”
Gibbs: What the heck is a wet hen?
Ziva: Wet chicken.
Gibbs: *eyes dilate, ears perk, mouth drools*
Gibbs: I thought you said they were talking about us? Why didn’t you tell me they were talking about chicken?
Ziva: NOW they are talking about you…”He’s such a naughty boy!”
Gibbs: I swear I didn’t do it.
Ziva: Mom and the other human are talking about you getting up on the counters. “How do we keep him off?” they said. Were you up on the counters again? I told you not to go up there, it’s forbidden.
Gibbs: But there’s cool stuff up there!
Ziva: Well, naughty boy, you just made it bad for the both of us. Mom said, “They can stay in the bedroom at night, with me. Then neither one will be able to prowl and get into trouble.”
Gibbs: I swear I didn’t do anything.
Ziva: Whatever. Why can’t you be nice like me?
Gibbs: *rolls eyes*
Ziva: I AM nice. I don’t jump on the counters or forget to cover up my poop or yowl like I’m looking for a hot date at 3:00 am.
Gibbs: Whatever. Just because you feign injury to get attention.
Ziva: I am not feigning. I am limping. I can’t help it, I sprained something when you were chasing me last week.
Gibbs: Yeah, I heard the humans. “Oh, poor Ziva. What’s the matter with Ziva? Maybe she should go to the vet. Maybe we should chop off the leg.”
Ziva: They did not say that last part. You made that up.
Gibbs: So, what did the vet say? You never told me.
Ziva: I don’t remember it all, you know the car ride always upsets my cat chi.
Gibbs: God bless you.
Ziva: You’re an idiot. Anyhow, the vet grabbed hold of my leg and pushed it this way and that, looked at my paw, and declared, “The good news is that nothing is broken. It must be a sprain. I’ll give you three days’ dose of a kitty Advil. That will help with any inflammation.” Then the human thanked her for not giving her liquid and a syringe. I don’t know what that was all about, but I’m pretty sure it was a good thing for both of us.
Gibbs: So, you’re okay?
Ziva: I still have a limp. I’m going to play it up for all it’s worth.
Gibbs: Shhhhhh…the human is walking toward the couch.
Other Human: “Oh, you poor thing, Ziva. Poor baby.” *O.H. pets the Queen*
Gibbs: She’s faking it.
*other human forgot to turn on her intergalactic cat translator* (tm Natasha)
Ziva: Ha! Other human doesn’t understand. Too bad for you, excellent for me.
Gibbs: Did you hear what she just said?
Ziva: No, I was reveling in my glory.
Gibbs: Mom is talking to the other human. She said, “If Ziva’s leg doesn’t improve after the pills, I might have to take her back to the vet.” Ha! So put that in your pipe and smoke it!
Ziva: You are such a juvenile. No wonder they called you Fruit Loop at the rescue shelter. Mom should have kept that name for you.
Gibbs: Okay Lady Gaga.
Ziva: At least that name has a bit of class.
Gibbs: Bizarre class. Whatever.
Ziva: Hey! I think mom is going to the kibble closet!
Gibbs: I think you are right!
Mom: “C’mon babies, it’s time to eat. Time to feed the wild beasts.”
Other Human: “So, Ziva lost some weight?”
Mom: “Yeah, two pounds.”
Other Human: “The diet must be working.”
Gibbs: Did you hear that?
Gibbs: I don’t think they can call you a 14 pound bowling ball anymore.
Gibbs: Let’s cry like we’re starving!
Ziva: Like? I AM starving. Hungry as a goat.
Gibbs: You cry like a goat.
Ziva: Yeah, well your poop smells like burnt toast.
Mom to Other Human: “The kids sure are talkative tonight. What do you think they are saying?”
Gibbs and Ziva: *we will never tell*