A Cat Scorned

posted September 20, 2009 - 10:31pm

A Cat Scorned

The waves were small, near non-existent that day. So too was the activity of his large orange cat. Ditch the Cat. It lay on the rock like a lump—no, rather an amoeba, tanning in the sun, his jelly-like rolls of tabby fat flopping over the edge of his bed-rock. Standing beside him, North twisted the small twig in his hand, tossing it in the air and catching it like a sword. He examined the pointy end of the stick, taking it quite politely and poking his cat in the round stomach. Upon the monstrous blow, the cat toppled backwards, sliding off the rock and hitting the ground, the impact as if the earth shook.
            “Aw, I’m sorry D,” the boy said to the cat. It merely turned around, gazed suspiciously at him, as cats do, and waddled away on the sandy beach. “I was just seeing if you were awake, that’s all.” He followed the cat, stepping over it, now facing the beast. North was now in the cat’s sunlight, blocking the warm rays that kept it comfortable. This was absolutely unacceptable. The furry beingoozed out of North’s way, strolling triumphantly down the shores. It continued to waltz all the way down the coast until it reached far beyond North’s small village. North had never dared to go this far ever before or his mother would be angry, but of course, the cat didn’t mind either North or his mother’s opinions. There wasn’t much down on this side of the beach--that is, if you didn’t count the boat.
            Resting happily in front of North and his skeptical at was a small boat, fit for two. Its blue flag blew heartily in the breeze whenever one happened to come around, and the wooden planks looked like they had just been painted with a new coat of varnish. North stood in awe, observing carefully the movements of the abandoned beauty, while Ditch the Catmerely thought of it as another obstruction on the path to wherever cats go. He flopped onto the boat as if it were another rock to sleep on, strolling over to the end and plunking his pudgy posterior on the bench-like seat that resided there. On contact, the boat started to sway and grumble, shake and twist, and finally, float away. North, realizing his cat was [slowly] in the process of being stranded at sea, dashed to the boat, leaped inside and, of course, began to pilot it away from the shore.
            “Wow, D, you really read my mind! I guess you want to sail too! This’ll be a lot of fun, just you see!” North exclaimed, excited that his cat knew him so well. Ditch the Cat stared wide-eyed in utter disbelief that North, his loving slave and devoted servant would ever misread him so intensely. Scowls and smiles gratuitously flooded the boat as the two companions found themselves getting closer and closer to a lush island.

After about fifteen treacherously exciting minutes, a small isle came into view. It was loaded with postcard images—leaves as green as acrylic paint, flowers of all different varieties and delectable fruit. Not long after arriving at the island, North grabbed some fruit and indulged in a snack. But Ditch was hesitant. Why was he brought here? How could he get back? Would there be enough time for his afternoon nap? Desperate times called for desperate measures, and thus desperate measures were taken; Ditch the Cat began to jump. He jumped, leaped, wiggled, and just as Ditch the Cat has started the boat before, he started it up again. Unfortunately, North didn’t notice until Ditch was already back near the village. North yelled and shouted for his loving cat to come rescue him, but little did he know that Ditch was no Lassie. Next time, North should realize: Hell hath no fury like a cat scorned.