“Kung-Fu Cat” by Dena Harris
This story appears in the anthology “Not Your Mother’s Book…On Cats.”
My husband and I enjoy a soothing morning ritual of relaxing with the fish. We sit together on the couch in semi-darkness, sipping coffee and watching the fish dive and swerve through the water in the fish tank. Sometimes we talk, sometimes we don’t. It’s a peaceful opening to the day before the world intrudes.
Of course, if you have cats, the world always intrudes, usually in a harsh and abrasive manner. For example, the other morning as we sat quietly, contemplating the fish, suddenly Kung-Fu Cat appeared and attacked the tank.
“WAH-HAH-HEE-AIIIEEEE-YAH!” The cat dashed in from the hall, leapt onto the dining room chair we keep in front of the fish tank for kitty-viewing pleasure, and began pummeling the glass barrier. Her four paws were a blur of high leg kicks and karate chops. Maybe it was just the way her tail was hanging, but I swear she was sporting a black belt.
Fish scattered, my husband and I jolted upright and Kung-Fu Cat—having made her point—bowed to the fish, leapt off the chair and raced from the room.
“Is she high?” my husband asked, brushing spilled coffee from his robe.
I have no idea what gets into her. After 80-billion attempts—including a memorable hang-gliding incident— one would think she would have clued in by now that the fish tank is impenetrable. But no. Apparently, she’s now invested in ancient Eastern martial arts as holding the key to sushi success.
What concerns me most is that Kung-Fu Cat appears to have taken on our other cat—a kitten—as her padawan learner. This doesn’t bode well. Any situation that sets up the cat as master of anything is a mistake in my book.
They sit together in the hall, the kitten bowing low before the cat. Actually, the kitten wasn’t so much bowing as it was the cat was sitting on her. The cat shifted slightly and placed a gentle paw on the kitten’s head. “Ah, grasshopper. The way of the humble is the first step toward inner mastery. And so . . . uh, I command you to always grovel before me,” Kung-Fu Cat paused, looking thoughtful, “and to give me all your food.”
“Stop,” I said to the cat. “This is rubbish.”
“Glare all you want,” I said. “But I’m watching the kitten eat to make sure she gets her fill. And, by the way, go put my hooded sweatshirt back in the closet. Wearing it makes you look nothing like a Jedi-master.”
The next morning, my husband and I sat near the fish and tried again. All appeared tranquil. For the time being, anyway. But I doubted it would remain so. Yesterday, I caught the kitten online, attempting to secure home delivery of a light-saber she found on eBay. I think she has visions of slicing through the walls of the fish tank, only to stand over a small, gasping goldfish and announce, “I AM YOUR FATHER.”
Kung-Fu Cat is worse. We hear her day and night, out in the hall, huffing and puffing as she goes through her exercise routine.
Someone had better warn the fish—or at least teach them the rudimentary ways of the Force or the Dark Side. Because that cat is getting good with those high kicks.
Dena Harris is the author of several books including the popular Does This Collar Make My Butt Look Big? A Diet Book For Cats and the soon-to-be released The Paleo Vegetarian Diet. A fitness fanatic and diet guru, Dena resides in Greensboro, North Carolina with Snowball the Cat. Visit her website at www.denaharris.com.
Again, this story appears in “Not Your Mother’s Book…On Cats.” The book is filled with 62 cat-approved stories written by their humans. Purchase this book today from your favorite retailer, Amazon (http://amzn.to/1CdPXYt) or Barnes & Noble (http://bit.ly/1zFY1kd).
To submit your stories for consideration in future NYMB titles, go to http://www.PublishingSyndicate.com and click on the “Not Your Mother’s Book” tab.