Annabelle! Let me sleep, Missy. Please? I moaned and rolled over, facing the wall.
Get up, slug! Annabelle yelled, as she climbed onto my side. Get out of that bed.
Daddy’s tired, I croaked. It’s been a hard week.
There had been two long days in a recording studio, and I was tired. On Monday, I had left for the studio around 7:45am for a 9:00 start, and I did not return home until around 8:45 that night. Even though I had explained the long day to Annabelle and Thatch and left them plenty of dry food and water, they were quite angry over the situation. The next morning, I left around 8:45 for a 10:00 start and returned home around 6:45.
Are there any more days like this? Annabelle demanded. The least you could do is let me sing on the recording.
I’m sorry, Annabelle. It was a cast recording, and you weren’t in the cast.
Well, I’m very unhappy about it. You are keeping me from the stardom I deserve.
Let’s talk about it tomorrow, I suggested. Daddy’s really tired. I’m not as young as I was, and these long days are exhausting. I have it easy following a score, but Rob Berman must be fried. He works hard.
And I’m getting old waiting for stardom! Annabelle hissed as she wandered off to her washtub in the bathroom.
I put a clean towel in your washtub, I yelled after her.
She won’t answer you. She’s angry, Thatch observed from the cat tree.
I know, Thatch, but she’ll calm down. I’m home all day tomorrow, and she’ll find something to keep me busy.
I turned down the bedding, and adjusted the pillows. Thatch immediately jumped onto the bed, and lay down on the pillows. This was his way of saying, Brush me. I took the brush off the dresser and started combing his back.
I love this, he purred.
So, how was your day? What did you and Annabelle do?
Well, he thought about it. Well, we played with the pigeons on the fire escape till they headed to Central Park. Then we played tag for a while –
I knew that when I saw the throw rugs tossed about, I observed.
Then we played hide and seek and watched the soaps. That stolen baby plot gets crazier.
Did she go to the police? I asked.
Not yet. Then we played on the computer –
Did she order anything? I jumped in.
No, but there’s some jewelry in your wish list. And by chance we saw there’s an opera named Annabella, and she wants to star in it. She put the CD in your wish list.
Annabelle? I asked him. Are you sure? I don’t know any opera with that title.
I stopped brushing him and went to the computer. I opened my Amazon wish list, and laughed.
What? Thatch asked.
Annabelle is not going to be happy, Thatch! Her reading’s as bad as her sense of direction. The opera is called Arabella. It’s by Richard Strauss.
Oh, no! Thatch laughed. Are you going to tell her?
No way, Jose, I said. I closed the computer and went to bed.
Thatch told her the next day. When I came in from taking the recyclables to the basement, she was on the computer, checking Strauss operas.
I know it said Annabella! she was saying to a very smug Thatch.
You were wrong, Annabelle! Admit it.
I looked over her to the screen, Ah, Missy! I see you discovered there is no Strauss opera about you.
What happened? I’m an intelligent cat, she said sadly. My reading skills are highly developed-
They’re better than your sense of direction, Thatch observed.
Thatch! I turned to him. You told her about Arabella, didn’t you?
It was too good to resist! he said. Then he laughed and ran under the bed.
I thought about it for a moment. For all her good qualities, Annabelle does take advantage of Thatch’s devotion to her daily. She has him stepping, fetching, aiding and abetting . . . I decided to say no more about that.
I’m very sad, Annabelle turned to me. I thought I could break into the opera world and be the next Marias Callas. My high E is better than hers!
That was debatable, but I wasn’t going to hurt my broken-hearted baby’s feelings. I picked up their breakfast dishes and went to the kitchen. Annabelle, I called, let’s clean the litter, and then we’ll patrol the building. You might see Val, and he always cheers you up.
I washed their bowls and went into the bathroom. Annabelle had just finished her toiletries, and to my utter amazement, she proceeded to bury her efforts in the litter.
Annabelle! I exclaimed. I’ve never seen you do that before, Not ever! Not in two years!
Well, I got tired of Thatch griping about it, so I’m making an effort.
Aw, that is so sweet, Missy! You get a gold star today. I think it’s your first.
I went to the shelf, got a gold star and attached it to her collar.
Annabelle got a gold star! Thatch exclaimed in shock.
My first! she told him. I can’t wait to show Val and the neighbors. Let’s patrol!
Just a second, I said. Don’t be in such a rush. I’ve got to put the litter box back together.
Well, hurry up! I’m so excited about this gold star I could pee.
©2019, Larry Moore
Annabelle & Thatch 