Once upon a time in the wilds of the enclosed gardens, viewable from my terrace off the kitchen, there live two beautiful cats: a black one and a white one. My opinion is that the black one is male and the white one is female. Having never owned a cat I make this presumption by the shape and size of their heads.
At varying times either the black one or the white one hangs out on the roof of the tool shed at the back of the downstairs garden. I have fantasized – wait keep reading before your judge me to be a freak – that I would like see them hang out, maybe curled up together like a fuzzy yin-yang-ish symbol.
One day it happened, they were on the tool shed roof at the same time. But it was at a somewhat inopportune moment because I was fully disrobed, finishing my coffee while gazing at the light snowfall over the gardens. It was a “Kodak moment” so I grabbed my camera, stepped quickly into my Doc Maarten’s and scampered onto the terrace.
The black cat was there first, when the white cat began to search out a spot on the roof - her body language seemed as if she wasn’t sure if the black one would agree with her idea of sharing the space.
The black cat was probably saying (I was not close enough to hear) and because of his tensed body language, “You can’t come on here.”
The white one (probably) replied, “Yes I can. If you don’t like it, then leave.”
The black one asked, “Are you saying that because I am black?”
The white one answered, “No. Why would you ask that?”
The black one then said, “Never mind. But I am not getting off this roof, I was here first.”
The white one countered, “No you weren’t. I come onto this roof A LOT. I was here first.”
The black one refuted, “No you weren’t.”
The white one disputed, “Yes I was.”
They went on as I fiddled with my camera.
“No you weren’t.”
“Yes I was.”
“You so were not!”
“I was! Yesterday while YOU weren't here I spent 15 hours watching a pigeon in the tree over there.”
“Oh yeah? Well, the day before yesterday I was here at like around 8 AM, I watched A LOT OF birds, took 8 naps, completely de-nasty-haired myself, called my broker, napped some more and admired the moon.”
“Wrong! There soooo was not a moon the night before last, I know. Firstly because I am a female (see my head size and shape,) and secondly because I was on the roof of the inner-city palace, hanging out with Lady King of Belgium Cat.”
“You so lie! I KNOW Miss Lady King of Belgium Cat, and she said she was spending a few days at the coast with her royal owners.”
“Nuh-uh, cause like, I KNOW when she goes there 'cause she lets me hang in her spot on roof of the roy-al kitchen when she splits out of town for the seaside. YOU have never been there. YOU don't even know where that spot is!”
“I soooo scratchin-it' totally do!”
“Eeeuwow, are you like the original, creepy, Ixelles alley-cat-mouth, or what?!”
“Sorry gal, but like you hairbairback-hissed me off. I don't mean to dis' you or nuttin' but like you don't know what's down wit me get it, miss furbag?"
“Furbag?! I am soooo sure that you didn't just call me that without gittin' yo' face scratched.”
“Listen fuzzy-ho don't be gittin' all in my whiskahs wit all dat!”
“Oh I so will. Callin' me fuzzy-ho an' all. Who named you ah da king kitty au de sandbox Scrub!”
“Scrub?! You katnip-knatty-head, I'll claw you!”
“Claw me?! UGC Popocorn Kat tells me you are too 'fraidy' to get with the gang who do the scaring during the Cronenberg flicks in the cinema. They say you a real 'skardey-kitten.'”
“Litter. You screamin'! Just coz I don't wanna go roaming for junk in those aisles of that nasty ol' cinema, I'M THE 'skaredey, that's just bad dope.”
“Well what-ev-ah, that's what they sayin' 'bout you.”
“It's nip, I know who I am. So you got a cat at your scratching pole or what?”
“Well, just WHO is asking?”
“Me, Lewis the Black, that's who.”
“Yarnballs o' fire, I just don't know what to say. I don't want some dupemaster ruffling my well-brushed fineness.”
“I'm no ruffler. I am one sweet and purrin' cat.”
"You give a nice cozy spot on this roof and we can interface about what you can do for me."
BEEP!
Sh%#! I thought I had turned off the sound. Luckily they didn’t scram.
The black cat asked the white cat, “What was that?!”
The white cat replied, “I don’t know, but WHAT is that pink, hairless thing with black feet holding a shiny object over there. Yuck, what a creepy dog.”
The black one looked then turned back and said, “That’s a naked women, you dumbass.”
The white cat protested, “I’m not a dumbass, YOU ARE!”
The black cat disputed, “No I’m not.”
The white cat hissed, “Yes you are.”
I decided I had gotten the best shots that I could. Besides, it was snowing, I was naked and a man who drives a Nissan van saw me standing there and stopped to stare with both shock and amazement.
They were still arguing when I went back inside.
“No I’m not.”
"Yes you are.”
“I’m no dumbass.”
“Yes, Lewis the Black, you sooo are!”. . .
If you are curious about my inspirational muse,
listen to it.
Here's an example of a robotic spaceworm:
