4 February 2012, 2:46 pm
A sudden disturbance startled the man up under my arm. The scratching of leather had gotten to him and we both scanned around the room to see who was the cause. He was the cause. To whom was this he? The furry Prince Ontario scratching on David's strap black briefcase was that he. His claws hooked and struggled to depart the leather. When he made a successful ripping he struck again. My head fell against the sofa back laughing softly at David's aggravated face. "Stupid cat" he grunted in humor almost in chuckles under my louder mild laughs. “Damned abomination” He went on, I laughed harder. He glared at the animal over to his left. My arms receded to a tight chess pressing fold forcing me to breath out. David acted almost immediately His fingers and arm extended along the back of the futon and popped the air repeatedly in his aggressive snapping, trying to lure the animal's eye. He looked behind my head; where the view was best. It only took seconds for a reaction: “Hey” He finally called out, Prince Ontario's attention was caught and he spoke: " Stop it! Bad cat! Bad!" he fussed. "No! leave it alone!" He hardly called the animal by his name. He didn't even like the cat. The thick feeling of animosity was mutual to the two; Booh forever hated the cat for not being an intimidating dog with a respectable name and the cat hated Booh for just being Booh—mean antagonizing Booh who would entertain himself by throwing tennis balls at the cat’s head as a crude attempt to teach him how to play fetch—though his tone was very plain. The cat would sprint at the sudden impact—not sure what had stricken him. I plead guilty for harassing the animal too but for some reason he'd come to me, expecting love—it was bizarre with the least amount of word said. Despite the many socks I stuck on his head, or the many bags I popped beside his ears, or the many bottle-caps of water I dumped on his head when he paid me no mind and I was bored, he still came rubbing himself on my legs to say hello.dumb cat. Maybe he took my occasional pats or strokes on his head and back as a apology. Or maybe he was a retarded animal like David had described. His stern orders could never be taken more than a joke, if you were human however. The cat on the other end looked worriedly at the man who was hammering his wrist and watch band across the sofa back as he pointed at him, emphasizing his authority. Mr. Kilpatrick's voice was probably the cause of Prince Ontario's quivering—it boomed loudly. The animal hissed and dug his claws in the expensive leather once more. My head fell again laughing even harder. My chest bounced while i stirred the air in my chuckles. Mr. Kilpatrick on the other hand became even more frustrated with the creature undermining his authority. "—God damn—" he blurted in outrage almost instantly turning to the oppsing side of the futon. David's arm slithered away from behind my head and back, I assisted him by dunking out the way and turned the other shoulder, watching to see what he were to do next. He reached over the arm of the couch and found a yellow plastic ball. Inside the bars of the ball a even smaller orb lie; rattling around in it's containment when he shook the toy. He held it left then right and the eyes of the cat followed, he tossed and the cat chased it away loosing all interest in the briefcase completely. David= booh, Mr.Kilpatrick... Read More »
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