Liquid Cat

I was the babysitter one summer for 3 of my grandchildren – Zac, Michael & Aalyiha. This was a few years back, when they ranged in ages from about 5 – 9 or so. On this particular Tuesday, we were having a nice, quiet day. It reminded me of my childhood, which was B.C. (before cable). Children made eye contact with each other and the only electronic device was the flashlight that we used to play hide & seek in the dark. We explored the creeks and hills surrounding my childhood home of Woodbury, KY without fear of perverts or drive-bys; we climbed trees and rode bikes with no safety equipment, and lived to tell about it! That was the kind of day we were having – a peaceful, dreamy, drowsy day.
Little Aalyiha was playing tea party in the living room floor as I sat on the couch by the picture window, monitoring the activity in the front yard. Big brother Zac had turned his bicycle upside down and was pedaling the rear wheel with his hand, making a soft ‘Wwwwhhhzzzz’ sound. Little brother Michael was standing nearby, mesmerized by the spinning spokes one finger up his nostril, with the family cat draped over his arm.
This cat was absolutely the most laid back creature I had ever seen. It was constantly drooped over the arm of a chair or thrown over a child’s shoulder carelessly, like a wet dishcloth. He was like a liquid cat, never walking, just oozing from the couch to the floor and then out the door. The only time I ever saw him upright was when he jumped the fence on the neighbor’s herb garden – the one with barb wire on top & 3 locks on the gate. They sure were nice folks, though, constantly smiling & ordering pizza. The cat always made a stop there on his morning constitutionals. But other than that, he was usually in a semi-liquid state, slung over handlebars or oozing over the edge of a window sill. And so there stood Michael, cat neatly folded over his arm like the head waiter at a fancy restaurant. A boy and his semi-solid cat – it’s a beautiful thing.
So, Zac’s pumping away, the wheel is spinning faster & faster, when suddenly a light goes on in his eyes. Without looking at Michael he nonchalantly says “Hey, Michael. Put the cat’s crotch on the wheel.”
I hate myself, but the truth is, when I heard him say that, my first thought was ‘Where’s the camcorder?’ But in the next instant, I could see tomorrow’s headlines:
CAT WITH FLAMING CROTCH BREAKS SOUND BARRIER ON
WEST NOB HILL BLVD
ASPCA to investigate
So, I sprang off the couch (i.e., I got Aalyiha to help Nana up) & ran outside, snatching the unsuspecting victim & saving him from the WORST RUGBURN EVER.
“What on earth are you thinking?” I scolded. “We don’t harm innocent animals – that’s how Dahmer got started!”
“Who?”
“Never mind.” I dropped the flexible feline on the top step of the porch, where he slowly oozed down to a little patch of sunshine on the bottom step & promptly fell asleep. Again.
Michael reinserted his finger & looked up at me thoughtfully for a moment. Then he slowly shifted his gaze to the swimming pool.
“Nana? Do cats float?”