Linda Edwards Scribbles











When the cat showed up at my door she was wearing a pointed hat.

‘Must be someone’s pet,’ I thought.

But I let her in all the same.  It was cold and wet out and I couldn’t just leave her out in the rain.  I swear she nodded to me as she stepped daintily in across the mat.

‘Funny cat,” I thought, but she seemed all right.

Not wanting to be rude, I offered to take her hat.  She declined with a look.  I shrugged.  That was clearly that.

I’d never had a cat, but I knew she’d need a few thing.  I set water in a dish in the kitchen and newspaper in the bathroom with a light.

“Would you like a bite?”  I asked, feeling a little silly at first, but oddly enough her pointed hat bobbed and her golden eyes shone as if to say, “Thank you, yes, very kind.”  I swear they glowed.

There’s something about a well mannered cat that makes you want to stand on ceremony, so I lit candles and set two places at the table, putting cushions in one seat to boost the cat level.  I wasn’t sure cats liked crackers or hummus, but she didn’t seem to mind, and even nibbled a bit while I puttered at the stove.

‘Really, very odd,’ I thought again, setting chicken and asparagus on the table to share.  The cat wasn’t long on conversation, so we mostly ate in comfortable silence.  I tried not to stare.

By the time I’d cleaned the plates and she’d cleaned her face (at least I knew that was normal enough for cats), it was very late.  It didn’t seem right not to offer her a place to sleep.  Again the hat bobbed. I wondered if she’d sleep with it on.  It seemed unwise to ask.

We nodded goodnight and I fell asleep wondering what cats like for breakfast.

‘Something unusual I suspect,’ I thought as I drifted off.

I have never been a particularly heavy sleeper, but that evening my bed felt just right.  I never slept better in my life.  When I woke,  the room was bright. I bolted to my feet, remembering my unusual guest from the night.  I threw on my robe and dashed to the bedroom door.

The cat was gone.

The blankets were folded, the newspaper cleared, pancakes on the table, even coffee, cut pears.

It was all very peculiar.  I searched the whole house, just to be sure, but I knew even before I found the note on the floor.

“Thanks for the meal,

Thanks for the room,

Thanks for the kindness,

Sorry about the broom.

Gratefully yours,

Paw Prints

 



et cetera
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