Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS writer
Once upon a time there was a little ginger cat called Doris.
“Mi-yow?” she practiced as she questioned her reflection. What kind of feline are you? Come ON Doris!
“Mawwwww. Purrrhhhhhhhrrrr. Krrrrrrr.” Goddamnit. What the fuck was that?
Doris hissed at herself, flailing her paws in the air as she splayed across the chaise lounge. It’s hopeless. A cat who can speak, but can’t meow. I’m some kind of freak, maybe I should just join the circus!
Everyday, she endured the same morning routine. Get up, get dressed, then get undressed. Cats shouldn’t wear frocks or brush their hair. I mean, lick their paws. Gahhh! This isn’t meant to be so hard! Stop overthinking it, Doris. Just BE. Where are your instincts, woman?! Why can’t you be more CATTY.
Because of this inability to connect with her authentic feline nature, Doris often found herself despondent, and the only thing to raise her spirits was a tiny rainbow umbrella that she enjoyed twirling in her paws until the hypnotic rainbow swirl made her so dizzy she would have to retire to her boudoir for a cat nap (every little thing counted towards reaching cat-hood, she supposed). Doris’ recurring melodrama meant that she spent far too much time inside, rather than outside where she might actually meet ‘normal’ cats from whom she could learn something useful.
That is, until the day she met Chad—a sultry Burmese fella who Doris caught staring at her through sparkling chartreuse eyes at the open window.
All of a sudden “meeeee-OWW!!” lept from her throat. Whutttt? What IS this?
“Hrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhh” replied Chad. “Hrrrrrrhhhrhhhhhmmmm hmmmm”.
Well HELLO.
“I AM a cat after all!” Doris declared (but only to herself, for animals shouldn’t say such things out loud), purring solicitously as she nudged against handsome Chad.