|
Frankie Weiss and Her Magic by Dan M Weiss
Chapter Six Frankie writes in her own words Hello, I’m Frankie Weiss. After much coaxing, Mr. Mom is finally letting me write my own chapter, as if he hasn't already praised me enough to the high Heavens. As the reader, you should hear from me, personally. I do not have to brag, you all know by now that I’m not only toothless but also Mr. Mom thinks I’m the world’s prettiest Calico. But, there’s a lot you may not know about me. Here goes; I was born at the New Jersey Race Track near Atlantic City, that’s where dumb people go to the Casinos to lose their hard earned money playing the slot machines or other table games in which the house has a huge advantage when played. My Mr. Mom goes, too. He’s a crap shooter, (dice player to the uninitiated) who seldom wins, but he says, “If you can’t afford to lose, don’t play.” I say, “Don’t play.” You see; I went to Cat College. (Not bragging.) I graduated Magna Cum Laude, and was Valedictorian of the graduating class. So I know a thing or two. I was captured when about four and one-half months old and was taken to the Marlton Animal Hospital to be adopted. When Mr. Mom walked into the room filled with other caged cats ready for adoption, I heard him walk in and turned around. Our eyes met, instantly, it was love at first sight. Looking into his blue eyes, with my big black ones, my heart began beating faster, and I felt like I had butterflies in my stomach. That’s what instant love does to you. I was wiped out in hope that he’d adopt me. Well, you know he did and that he, too, fell in love with me at that instant. I was lucky he did or I’d be pushing up daisies by now. You all know about the gingivitis that I inherited from one of my parents. Not only did their genes give me beauty, it gave Mr. Mom and me a hard and long year and half of suffering. Honestly, I think it hurt him more than me. And, I cost him a lot of money, still it’s much better than losing it tossing a pair of dice. Before I forget, the smell of the horse stables and barn really was not too pleasant an odour. The Weiss house is much more inviting and better suited to my taste in life. I get the best of cat food, not the scraps or ugly mice that I captured and killed even at my young, tender age. I was pretty self-sufficient. My parents did not raise a stupid cat like my companion, Johnnie. Sometimes, I think she’s afraid of her own shadow. However, I must admit she’s a pretty Tabby and even though I boss her around, I love her very much and am glad she’s a part of my life. I heard the head boss of the Animal Hospital asking our new Mr. Mom about our future, being house cat or cats with outside privileges, Mr. Mom, already smitten with us, did not want us to stray and he said, “House cats.” Dr. Rothberg, head honcho at the Hospital, suggested removing our front claws (she was over to our pretty house once) and felt our claws would rip the nice things apart; she also suggested spaying us, resulting in adding about three years to our lives. Mr. Mom agreed with her suggestions. To this day, I know, he’s sorry he did not allow me to have one litter of kittens; I could never make him a proud grandparent. He would have kept one of my offspring. I only know I would have made a wonderful mother, full of love and compassion for my children and I think they’d be beautiful, too! I’m now a few months over six years of age, but I want to go back about three years ago and relate an incident I had forgotten about until our Mr. Mom wrote it as one of the many stories he put down on paper about Johnnie and me. It’s about a toothpick. Johnnie and I, being busybodies, as most cats are, had to know what Mr. Mom was doing behind the closed bathroom door. So we used our bodies and paws to bang on the door in an effort to get him to open it. He could see one pure white paw push under the door opening - that was mine. Loving us as he does, what harm could be done if he let us have our way? Upon opening the door, we immediately sat down on our haunches on the tile floor, facing one another. Mr. Mom had just finished lunch and was using a toothpick to clean between his teeth. I’m not sure, but I may have had my teeth removed at this time. Never under estimate a cat’s intelligence, we knew Mr. Mom loved us and we took every advantage possible of that fact. Johnnie and I had him twisted around our pretty paws. It was not the first time we felines would use our feminine wiles to get him to do what we wanted done. It would not be the last time, either. While using the toothpick, it fell from his hand and landed before my face. Suddenly, I invented a new game. I’d pick up the toothpick in my mouth, drop it, and then move it around with my right paw. I did this over and over until finally tiring of my new game I let it lie on the floor tile block. Johnnie thought it was her turn to try the new game I had just invented. As she moved it around with her left front paw, what happened next took both Mr. Mom and Johnnie by surprise. Quick as a flash, I raised my right paw and slapped Johnnie across the left side of her face. In my mind, I was just asserting my authority. Johnnie had no business in playing with my new toy, the toothpick. Mr. Mom was flabbergasted at my action and at the same time could not stop laughing at what he had just seen transpire. Poor Johnnie immediately stopped her play with the toothpick. After all, she was only second fiddle to me, the boss. My temper and this display of action was another step in Mr. Mom’s cat education in living with two delightful four legged bundles of fur...to always expect the unexpected.
Please turn the page: |
|
|
Copyright 2001-2006 by TheDailyMews.com. All rights reserved.
Hosted by http://www.supanames.co.uk |
