The Weaving Inn

Home to the knitting world's anti-Finisher. Kind of like the anti-Christ, but with a smaller following.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

The Cat's Meow

I got nothing. So, let's have story time, shall we?

The Cat's Meow

Buddy lolled on his pillow, idly batting at a fly as it buzzed overhead. Ahh, this was the life he thought; fame, fortune, all the catnip he wanted. He stood up, arching his back and yawning as he made his way over to the mirror. He was one handsome cat, no doubt about it. Sapphire-colored eyes, sable tufts highlighting his majestic ears, and a long, lean body that just screamed “Show Cat.”

“Come in,” he meowed, as someone knocked at his dressing room door.

“Five minutes until show time Mr. Siam,” the poodle informed him as she stuck her well coiffed head in the door, “five minutes.”

“Ok, ok, I’m comin’,” said Buddy.

Gliding down the hallway, his slender, brown tail swishing, he mentally reviewed his list of guests for today’s show. First up was that stupid hamster who had lost 3 ounces simply by using his exercise wheel daily and limiting his sunflower seed intake. After that, there was the fanatical ferret, founder of some coalition that wanted the ban on ferrets lifted in California. Who in their right mind would keep a ferret anyway? And finally, it was that swan that thought she was the living reincarnation of Audrey Hepburn in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”.

Buddy took his place on the stage, sitting primly on the top of his gold scratching post as the poodle counted down the seconds.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Welcome to the “Cat’s Meow” with your host Buddy Siam!”

The pigs in the audience broke into wild applause as the cows from Wisconsin stomped their hooves. Buddy smiled brightly, he had always been a big hit with the barnyard sector.

“Welcome everyone, welcome to our show today,” he purred. “Our first guest today is Herbert Rodentus who’s going to share with us his inspiring tips for losing weight and getting into shape! Let’s have a big round of applause for Herbert!”

Herbert scurried quickly onto the stage, taking the seat furthest from Buddy. His whiskers twitched frantically as he surveyed the packed hall. Jeepers, half the audience were cats! His publicist never said anything about a room full of cats!

“Good afternoon, Herbert, and welcome to the show,” Buddy said, as he casually sharpened his claws on the post.

“Err eeep, hello Buddy,” squeaked Herbert. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

“Of course it is Herbert, after all this is MY show. Now tell me, how long have you been on this weight loss program of yours.”

“ Well Buddy, it’s been about …”

“Herbert, don’t you think I’m in remarkably good shape,” interrupted Buddy. “I work out, but I’m sure that’s obvious. Being the huge star that I am, I’m very image conscious.”

“Yes Buddy, I would agree that …”

“I play with my catnip mouse for at least 15 minutes a day, did I mention that Herbert?”

Buddy’s producer let out a loud sigh of frustration. Why had she ever agreed to produce a talk show with a Siamese for host? All her friends down at the kennel had warned her but oh no, Michelle thought she could handle it. And now, here was poor Herbert Rodentus trying to tell his story but Buddy would not SHUT UP. Talk, talk, talk. The poor hamster couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

“Herbert, thank you so much for joining us today, your story was very motivating,” smiled Buddy as he got up to shake paws with the hamster.

“But, but, I haven’t …”

“Good-bye Herbert, good luck with your book!” said Buddy as he pushed the tiny creature off the stage.

“Go to commercial,” Michelle growled at the engineer, “I need to have a talk with that cat.” Jumping up on the stage, Michelle planted herself at the base of the scratching post.

“Buddy, may I have a word with you?” she inquired.

“Sure Fluffy, what’s up?” smiled Buddy.

“Well Buddy, I don’t know if you’re aware of this or not, but the reason we have guests is so we can hear what THEY have to say.”

“Huh? What in the world are you talkin’ about Fluffy? Check the title, it says “Cat’s Meow”, I’m the cat, therefore I do the meowin’.”

“Then could you explain to me why we have guests Buddy?” Michelle sputtered.

“I dunno babe, as far as I’m concerned it’s all about the Divine Feline and that’s me,” he replied, winking at a cute little tabby in the third row.

“Buddy, please, I’m begging you. We need to let the guests tell their stories.”

“Yeah, OK, whatever Fluffy. Who’s next, that militant ferret?”

“That’s correct Buddy. I’ve got him down for five minutes of air time,” smiled Michelle.

Buddy swished a paw over his mouth and purred, “Send him in, I’m all ears.”

“Welcome back to our show everyone. Next up is Sunflower Mooncatcher from Santa Cruz, California!”

Slinking up to the stage with a Grateful Dead bumper sticker on his tail, Sunflower Mooncatcher positioned himself directly in front of the camera. Waving and flashing peace signs at the pigs and the cows he began chanting, “FREE THE FERRET, FREE THE FERRET!”

“Hey dude, you’re blocking my angle,” Buddy whispered, his tail flicking from side to side.

“FREE THE FERRET, FREE THE FERRET!”

“I’m the Star here!” Buddy yelled, jumping down from his post, claws bared. The entire room was in an uproar, roosters crowing, ducks quacking. Over in the corner a hen was throwing freshly laid eggs.

“Order, order!” screamed Michelle as she threw her clipboard at the hen.

On the stage, Buddy had a claw hold on the ferret’s tail.

“My camera, my camera,” Buddy huffed as he tried to pull the animal off stage.

"DOWN WITH THE OPPRESSORS!” screamed the ferret. Turning, he lashed out at Buddy, tearing one of his perfectly shaped ears.

Buddy’s eyes widened in shock as blood poured from the injured ear.

“Why you little fruit eating maniac!” he howled as he lunged for the ferret.

Running towards the stage came two German Shepherd bouncers. Managing to pull the two angry animals apart they threw the ferret into a Comfy Critter carrier and quickly removed him from the stage.

“Buddy, that’s it,” announced Michelle. “I’ve had it with you, I’m leaving.”

“But babe you can’t leave,” pleaded Buddy. “Where will you go?”

“I’ve had an offer from another show, where the host is a DOG this time,” she replied.

“A dog,” sneered Buddy. “What’s the name of this “dog show”?

“Oh I’m quite sure you’ve heard of it Buddy,” Michelle answered haughtily. “It’s the Jerry Springer Spaniel show.”

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