It isn’t the heat, it’s the humanity: A cat’s guide to urban survival

Bright lights, big city: Cat’s-eye view

4 minute read
How come I don't get treated like Maggie the Cat (above)?
How come I don't get treated like Maggie the Cat (above)?
Ugh! Really bored. I would be happy to play— run around a little, do my running-on-hind-legs number, but my minder just said she isn't in the mood.

Granted, it's hot.

Maybe we'll take a little walk down the hall— which, may I say, is about as exciting as a fuzz-mouse on a stick. But it's cooler out in the hall. I'll have to let my minder put that harness thing on me, though.

Oh! Here we go! She just got the harness out of the closet. That means I run under the bed. It's just something I do.

So I'll stay under the bed for a few minutes and then edge out just before she gets pissed and puts the harness back in the closet. It's just something we do.

I can tell she doesn't have much patience today. I know that because she said, "We're not playing chase-me-catch-me." Okie-dokie, I'll wander over to where she's sitting on the floor in the vestibule. She'll try to grab me and I'll run under the cabinet in the vestibule. It's a little game I made up.

Oooh! She got me!

To purr or not

OK, now I sit in her lap and purr a little and she puts the harness thing on me. Some day I will learn not to purr when I am only halfway pleased— it gives the wrong impression.

At least it's cool out in the hall. But there aren't any bugs out there. The last few times we've taken our walk, I've found no crinklies, no round things, no chip bits, no bugs. Nothing. And the folks with that interesting smell under their door must have mucked out. I know they have mice, though. Can't fool me on that.

Oh good! On our way!

Uh-oh! We're not walking past the box things that go up and down. Uh-oh! She's stopping. Oh, no! This we are not going to do! We are not going down in that box. Just watch me put on the skids. The floor may be shiny and slippery, but I am not getting in that box.

Fear of elevators

She just pushed the button thing. The box is making the ugly sound. Well, if she thinks we're going to get in that box, we surely are not!

The box opened. Watch me put my legs out straight and run my back legs backwards. This is foolproof— we're going nowhere.

Oh, dear! I'm not going backwards— she's pulling me into the box. Now I'm putting on the brakes. Merde! Didn't work.

Watch me lie down. Oooooh! She's pulling me into the box on my side.

The box door closed. We're in here alone. It's going down. I'm going to cry my Horrors are Going On cry. Mrrrrrowwwweeeeearrrrrrr! People know it means "I'm dying!" Mrrrrrowwweeeearrrrrrr!

Nothing! The box is moving. All she said was, "Oh for heaven's sake, stop that."

Quest for bugs

Doors opened. I'm out, faster than the speed of light.

Oops! That leash is really short.

Now she's out. This floor smells odd. Let's see if that's a bug over there. Yikes— what is that? Crawling on my belly.

She's laughing. I see nothing funny. That plastic dog looked real.

So OK— we've scoped out this hall, and it's about as interesting as our hall. She thinks so too. She's ready to leave.

Oh, no! The box! I don't know how we're getting home, but I'm not getting into that box. We can stay here forever!

She pushed the button. That ugly box sound. Just look at me hunkered on my haunches. I am not getting into that box.

The door is open. She's standing in the door. She thinks that's going to keep it open. Well, it's not. It can't stay open long enough for me to—

Oh, no! She's pulling me into the box. Watch me stick out my front legs and run backwards with my hind parts not getting into the box.

She pulled me in.

I hate this! No use crying "I'm Dying!"— she doesn't care. When we get home I'm going to sulk for hours. One of these days I'll learn how to resist eating those "good girl" treats while sulking.

As God is my witness! I will never get in this box again!

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