“What did you say, Gibbs?”
Just thinking and calculating the distance between me and the bird sitting on the windowsill.
“Where did you learn such a big word?”
Dan’s cat Mimi. She said her owner is into calculating something called math.
“Yes, I know about Dan and his math abilities, but how long have you and Mimi been talking to one another? And exactly what allows you to do this? Having you been emailing back and forth? Using my phone? Are you both telepaths?”
I’m not answering your questions. I don’t want to get MiMi into trouble because that would mess up her beauty rest. She’s really cute, you know, and sleep helps keep her on point.
“Ahhh, I see. You miss Ziva.”
What? No! Why would you say that? She snored too loud, was crabby and used up the attention you are now giving to me.
Gibbs, you lived with her for ten years. I think you miss the company, especially when I’m not here.
Whatever. I’m really not thinking about her right now.
“You’re thinking of the birdie on the window.”
“Why do you need to calculate the distance to said birdie? You can’t get to it anyhow. There’s a window…”
“It’s there because of a thing called weather, and for your own protection.”
Why do I have to be protected? I’m trying to hunt and give you a present.
“You need to be protected because I can imagine you flying at the birdie, the birdie getting away, and you tumbling down to the ground two stories below. And then a trip to the vet because you’ve hurt yourself.”
Cats land on all fours.
“That’s what they say, Gibbs, but I’m not sure it’s true and I certainly don’t want you testing that theory.”
You’re no fun.
“I’m trying to keep you safe, buddy.”
I’m trying to catch birds.
“I know, but I’m never happy about that, especially since last year when you killed a robin and dragged it into the bedroom.”
Huh? Don’t you like my presents?
“I would be happy if you brought me the catnip banana or a felt mouse as your gift.”
“Not to me. Look, I understand you have feline instincts that tell you to hunt and kill for survival. They are instincts that don’t go away even when you have a warm home, plenty of food and many soft places to sleep. But, I don’t like bird death. Never have, probably never will.”
That’s too bad. Birdies turn on my hunting motor, give me purpose and a goal that isn’t quite the same when batting a catnip banana around.
“I don’t mind you calculating bird distance, pointing at them, chirping at them, getting uber excited over them, crashing into the window over them, but I simply don’t want you to kill them.”
What’s the purpose in all of that if I can’t put an end to the story?
“If only you knew about catch and release…”
Catch and release? You mean catch the bird and then let it go? Alive?
“Yes. It’s about enjoying the excitement of the hunt, the waiting, and the thrill of the catch without hurting another creature.”
“Some people do it all the time with fishing, Gibbs. They enjoy the sport of catching rather than having the need to kill and eat.”
Do the fisher people catch mackerel? I like mackerel!
Whatever mom. If you’re done trying to convince me to not be a cat, I’d like to get back to my algebra calculations.
“You don’t know algebra.”
Yes I do. It goes like this: x(birds) + y(cats) – w(window) = c(dead bird).
“Dan would be proud of you, Gibbs. So very proud.”
Stream of Consciousness Saturday is the brainchild of author Linda G. Hill. Every Friday, Linda provides her followers with an inspiring blogger’s prompt. It can be a word or words and sometimes bonus points are involved (my favorite). Linda asks us to write without editing, other than correcting spelling errors.
Just go with the flow.
Like a babbling brook or rain drops. Click HERE if this type of writing floats your boat or helps with your decision-making. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “starts with cal.” Use a word starting with the letters “cal” as your prompt word. Have fun!