Her name was Bim. She was the female of two kittens I got during a time of bad trouble. The male, Bo, was a large Maine Coone Cat, and he could fetch, like a dog.
When I had to get rid of Bo, Bim came into her own. For one thing, she never grew up. She stayed small, like a little "catlet," and she loved to drink from a running tap. She had false eyelashes; her markings around her eyes made her look like some sort of Disneyfied fish.
One night, while I was studying for my TESOL exams, I went to bed exhausted, forgetting that I had left a soft pretzel in the oven. Bim kept bugging me as I tried to sleep, and I, to my shame, kept shooting her with a water pistol because I wanted to sleep.
Finally I smelt the burning pretzel. She had been trying to tell me that I needed to get up and turn off the oven.
She used to sleep like a round, furry button right by my stomach. That kept me warm in my chilly apartment, when we couldn't afford the heat.
Bim was a good cat.
5 comments:
What a lovely memory. Sounds like Bim was really clever - the pretzel incident is the sort of thing a dog would do!
Had to laugh about you shooting her with a water pistol!
My two cats are small like that. Isn't interesting how they try to communicate with you?
Aww, what a clever pussy cat Bim is! The water pistol made me laugh and I know I shouldn't! A lovely read. xxx
Thanks, everyone! Writing this made me remember my little cat and how warm she was when she cuddled up with me at night. It was a real pleasure to share this memory with you!
She sounds like the Lassie of cats...
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