Frankie Weiss and Her Magic

I get the best of cat food, not the scraps or ugly mice that I captured and killed even at my young, tender age. I was pretty self-sufficient. My parents did not raise a stupid cat like my companion, Johnnie. Sometimes, I must think she’s afraid of her own shadow. However, I must admit she’s a pretty Tabby and even though I boss her around, I love her very much and am glad she’s a part of my life.

I heard the head boss of the Animal Hospital asking our new Mr. Mom about our future, being house cat or cats with outside privileges, Mr. Mom, already smitten with us, did not want us to stray and he said, “House cats.” Dr. Rothberg, head honcho at the Hospital, suggested removing our front claws (she was over to our pretty house once) and felt our claws would rip the nice things apart; she also suggested spaying us, resulting in adding about three years to our lives. Mr. Mom agreed with her suggestions. To this day, I know, he’s sorry he did not allow me to have one litter of kittens; I could never make him a proud grandparent. He’d of kept one of my offspring. I only know I would have made a wonderful mother, full of love and compassion for my children and I think they’d be beautiful, too!

I’m now a few months over six years of age, but I want to go back about three years ago and relate an incident I had forgotten about until our Mr. Mom wrote it as one of the many stories he put down on paper about Johnnie and myself. It follows:

The Toothpick and The Paw

Frankie and Johnnie being busybodies, as well as cats, had to know what Mr. Mom was doing behind the closed bathroom door.

They would use their bodies and paws banging on the door in an effort to get me to open it, I could see one pure white paw push under the door opening, it was Frankie’s.

Loving them like I do, what harm could be done if I let them have their way? Opening the door they immediately sat down on their haunches, on the tile floor, facing one another. I had just finished lunch and was using a toothpick to clean between my teeth.

Never under estimate a cat’s intelligence, they knew I loved them and they took every advantage possible. Frankie and Johnnie had me twisted around their pretty paws. It was not the first time these felines would use their feminine wiles to get me to do what they wanted done. It would not be the last time, either.