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A tale of a tail

August 11, 2011

This is sweet Nicholas:

Nicky is a wonderful cat. He’ll often run to the door like a dog when I come home. He loves to hang out with us, and readily gives kisses. He’s not exactly the brightest cat, but I tell him it’s okay because he’s so pretty.

This is Nicky’s tail:

He twitches his tail every time I talk to him, even when he’s asleep. When he actually wags his tail, it seems much more powerful than other cat’s tail. We can often hear his tail thumping on the floor from another room. Almost every night, I have to pick things off the floor that his tail has swept from the end table when he lies between Charlie and I.

His tail is indiscriminate: newpapers, magazines, emery boards, pens – if it’s on the table, it’s fair game to be swished off. When he hops on the table, it’s de rigueur that drinks go on a shelf underneath.

This is the end result of the latest, and most egregious, victim of Nicky’s tail:

Last week, I came home from work and went into the bedroom to change. He followed me in and hopped onto the chair next to my bedside table. I kept up a running one-way conversation with him, as I always do, but I didn’t pay much attention to him as I went about my business.

The next morning, the suntan lotion I use daily on my face was missing. As was a new, big jar of body lotion. I looked everywhere, and then noticed Charlie had taken out the trash in the bedroom. A thought entered my mind: I looked at Nicky, and looked at his tail, and went outside.

Holding my breath, I dumped the big trash can on its side, and used a broom to pull the garbage forward. (It was, after all, expensive suntan lotion and a brand new container of body lotion, and I’m cheap.) Sure enough, there in the bag of bedroom garbage were the lotions. Nicky’s tail had swept it off the table and into the garbage can as he waited for me.

Good thing he’s so pretty.


From → Rambling stories

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