Surgery? Annabelle looked surprise. You are having surgery?
Annabelle, would you take off that face mask? I can’t understand a thing you say.
She removed her surgical mask. I do not want to get sick. I have my career to think of.
Trust me, Missy, you are not going to catch the coronavirus.
Will you catch it?
I don’t know. I hope not, but I’m not going to think about it until this surgery is over.
Surgery? She asked. Is that something good?
What is “surgery?” Thatch asked her.
It beats me, she told him. She turned back to me. So, what is “surgery?’
It’s a procedure, I told her. The doctors will put me to sleep, cut open my abdomen-
No! Annabelle gasped.
What’s your abdomen? Thatch asked. Do I have one?
Yes, Thatcher, I told him, I think you do.
I estimated the spot on my body that I was referring to. See, my abdomen is here, I think, and the doctors are going to open it and remove a few things to see if they’re healthy.
What things? Thatch asked.
My appendix and something on my kidney.
Not your heart!
No, Annabelle, my heart is up here on my body, and it belongs to you, Stella, and Thatch. The doctors aren’t going anywhere near my heart.
Stella, who had been sleeping in the kitchen sink, heard her name and came running. I was prepared, and I handed her a kitty treat. I’ve learned to keep a pacifier close to hand.
You are getting smart, Thatch observed. Can I have one?
You sure can. Annabelle, you want a shrimpy?
No, thanks. I want to know more about this surgery. It doesn’t sound good.
Well, it’s not what they would call “minor surgery,” where I would go into a clinic or a hospital for the procedure and come home when it was over the same day.
You’re not coming back?
Not the same day.
Not coming back! I could hear Thatch begin to panic as he paced in circles. Not coming back! What will happen to us? Annabelle?
He began to cry. I picked him up and held him on my lap. Don’t cry, baby, please. Daddy’s coming back. I’ll just be away for a couple of days. I’m not leaving the three of you. Not ever, if I can help it.
I hope you will leave us plenty of food and water, Annabelle sniffed. And who’s bringing up my Backstage and the mail?
I’m hoping your Aunt Judy next door will take care of everything.
And what about the litter? I don’t like dirty litter.
Your Aunt Judy.
What if one of us needs to see Dr. Mohr? I must protect my health.
I could see that she too was beginning to panic. Relax. It’s only a couple of days, Missy.
You know I can’t live without my Backstage. And what if R.U. Fémos calls while you’re gone? I could miss getting a role.
We’ll let him know what’s going on, so he will know to wait. I would hate for you to lose out on an audition.
What if Auntie Judy forgets us?
She won’t. She loves you.
Annabelle’s pacing stopped. She stood quite still while she processed this information. Then she turned to me.
Very good, I guess. She was finished with my interview. She ran to the window and looked out on 82nd Street.
Are you okay, Thatcher? I asked him.
Yes. We Ninja Cats are tough.
I love you, Ninja Cat! Promise me one thing.
What, Daddy?
While I’m away, don’t toss the litter all over the bathroom. Make things easy for Auntie Judy. Please?
If I remember.
Thatch! Annabelle called from the window. Stella! Come look at this wedding at Holy Trinity. Where did the bride get that dress? Goodwill? Salvation Army? And those bridesmaids? Tragic.
Stella ran to the window. Thatch jumped from my lap and followed. My three little kittens stared intently at the wedding party below. We could hear the sounds of the crowd cheering. I rose from the chair, muttered a short prayer for my survival, and hobbled to join them.
Make some room for Daddy, kids! I wanna see, too!
What are they throwing at the bride? Thatch asked her.
Rice, I said. I suspect they’re throwing rice, Thatch!
Who selected that color for those dresses? Annabelle moaned.
Be nice, Annabelle, I said. Thatch and Stella rolled their eyes.
©2020, Larry Moore
Annabelle & Thatch 