Here is a very short story that I wrote back in the spring of ’04 that I wrote and its about Mathew. I don’t rememeber why I thought of it at the time but I do know why I’m posting it here on the blog today. I was writing an e-mail to Melissa about Peanut Chew and I’ve been refering to Peanut as my little Silent Ninja Assassin and in the PS I wrote a little line about our rabbit:
PS The silent ninja assassin stalks his prey, he creeps under the couch and tries not to laugh…
Anyway, she wrote back and I wrote another line…actually I think it was like a little paragraph about the Assassin:
The silent ninja assassin leaps back into his cage to scope out the scene. Had his mother placed a cat cookie into his cage or was it just his over active imagination? At the risk of being caged up again he jumps in and finds the cookie. “YES!” he thought to himself as he started to munch on the cookie. Suddenly the cage door closed and he continued to munch on his delicious cookie with only one thought in mind, “I guess I need more practice as a silent ninja assassin.
–Peanut Chew stories…
Well, after this I decided to write a story about our little Silent Ninja Assassin (that I’ll post either later today or tomorrow) and it reminded me of this short story about Mathew. I don’t remember him being named in the story, but you know its him. Check it out:
Forgive the format, the blog doesn’t lend itself to the Microsoft Word format that is nice and neat.
From “Matty H. & The Nut Publications”
Life at Its Very Best
By: Marcos Cosme
An early summer eveningâ€™s sunlight shows through a back bay window with a Maine Coon cat sitting upright starring contently at the little furry and feathered creatures that tend to fly and dart across the backyard to his every delight. His head drastically changes positions as he sees something knew that catches his eyes. Birds that seem to fly way too close, close enough to catch; little squirrels or chipmunks that seem to race by with too many errands to run before the night catches up with them and all these animals seem to be so close. He could almost taste them.
Just then, he sees a car roll right into the corner of his sight and park in the driveway, not too far away from the backyard. Is it time? It canâ€™t be; he couldnâ€™t possibly have been asleep for that long of a time. But there is no other way for the man to be here. Truly, the man has returned, just as he does every other evening. The good taste of the little backyard creature disappears and another taste enters his mouth. The taste of the joy that the Maine Coon cat gets just by bothering the man could quite possibly be the most entertaining part of the day. If he could smile, this is the point in his otherwise dull little existence that he probably would, but in its place is a twinkle in his eye. A twinkle of mischief that happens only five days a week when the man returns from a long day of work. The cat jumps from the bay window and runs through the house under a table and brushes past a wall to get to the back door before the man opens it.
The key is entered and the lock is turned, and the anticipation running through the cats mind is too much. He almost lets out a small meow at the excitement of the manâ€™s return. He catches himself, and keeps the meow, and allows himself to build up an even better one to bombard the man as he enters. The door creaks open as the man steps into the house and the moment, the very fragment of a second that the manâ€™s left foot is firmly planted on the floor, the Maine Coon cat unleashes the twenty second monster of a meow that could only come from a day long wait.
The man swats at the cat to keep him quiet. This was not the welcome he was expecting, but probably shouldnâ€™t have expected any less when it comes to this cat. The cat stepped back and continued to fire back with the longest of meows. Everyday he surprises himself with how loud he can get, and everyday he tries to beat the meow he did the day before. Itâ€™s just too much fun. The Maine Coon cat continues to follow the man into the kitchen and jumps on a chair to better annoy the man. From this height there is no way the man couldnâ€™t see him, let alone not hear his mouth. The man yells out some words that donâ€™t make sense and lunges at the cat to make him move, but the cat has been through this before, the previous day to be exact. The man doesnâ€™t scare the cat very easily.
The cat jumps down and runs under the table and waits a moment as the man looks at something on the table. Then, as if timed precisely, the cat runs over to the manâ€™s legs just as he is about to walk away and the man stumbles and mumbles something to himself. The cat then casually walks over to a chair and starts to scratch the fabric off of it, another of the daily rituals that infuriates the taller of the two beings in the room. The man looks down at the cat and reaches for his little long haired body. As if caught by surprise, the cat lets out the loudest of the screams as the man walks the cat over to the living room and sets the cat down and reaches over for a comb that is on the center table. At this point, the Maine Coon cat has decided that this is the least fun part of the entire day, getting his fur pulled by the comb. Just the sheer thought of it forces him out of sleep during the course of the day and makes him want to go eat to get his mind off of it. And if upset enough by being bothered, he usually would throw up anything he just ate all over a very nice carpet. That probably wonâ€™t happen today. He threw up his last hairball just two days ago. The man proceeded to comb the catâ€™s long hair.
The cat felt the first tug, which just happened to be on a very small knot in his fur and let out a tremendous meow. The man said something to the cat, but the cat continues to twist and turn and meow as loud as he can. Some of these combing attacks last for a short time and some of them continue for what seem like an eternity. All of his precious fur is being stripped off his body. He knows its warm outside, but his fur is all he has when itâ€™s cold outside; though the fact that he is a house cat doesnâ€™t change any chances of him sneaking out every now and then, no matter what the temperature is outside. The Maine Coon cat continued to jerk around, and finally the man lets go of him.
The cat runs off, and turns around and watches as the man removes all the fur from the comb and just throws it all out. The cat walks over to his food bowl and eats some, keeping the man in his sight; just making sure no more retaliation would be given while he ate. That usually never happened, but the cat could never be too sure. The Maine Coon cat looked up at the man as he continued to work at the dinning room table and smiled deep inside. He loved his little furry life.