68. TAKE OFF THE MASK

Kitty cleanup was going smoothly.  I had emptied their breakfast dishes and set them in detergent to soak while I tackled the litter box in the bathroom.  Annabelle and Stella stood by while I sifted the litter. Occasionally. Annabelle pointed out something I was doing wrong.

What, Missy? I asked.  I cannot understand you when you wear that face mask.  Take it off.

Did I mention they all wear their face masks 24/7?  I tell them they don’t need to, but those public service announcements about the animals being killed in China for Covid-19 on the Kitty Channel have them terrified.  I keep hoping that my casual attitude about face masks – I only wear mine when I step outside – will relax their fears, but Annabelle is a stern taskmaster, and Stella and Thatch follow her face mask guidelines.

Annabelle pulled her face mask down.  I said, I think you missed a spot on that litter filter.  She put the mask back in place.  Stella rolled around the tiles as she tried to eat a roach through her mask.

How pathetic, I thought.  Instead I said, Did I?  Oh, you’re right. 

Of course I am, she answered.  I think that’s what she said.

You know, you’re taking this face mask advice far too literally.  Why don’t you remove them?  Look at poor Stella with that roach!

Annabelle watched Stella struggle with the roach for a moment, then pulled her masks down.  Oh, she’s impossible, she told me.

I pushed the litter box back into its corner, stood up, and tied up the bag of garbage and dirty litter.  I carried the bag into the hall and looped it over the doorknob to take out later.  Annabelle followed me.

Take off the mask, that’s all that I ask– I sang at Annabelle.

You to do! She sang back at me.  So take off that false face and just let me waltz face-

To face with you!  We sang together.

I love New Faces of 1952! Annabelle exclaimed.

I know you do, Missy! As soon as I wash up your bowls, I told her, we’ll have our morning meeting and decide on what we’ll do today.

I’m taking a nap. 

Me, too, Thatch called from the dresser where he had been napping.

She sauntered off, singing, I met him in Boston . . .

In the native quarter, Thatch joined in.

I turned on the warm water and washed their dishes as I listened to two kitties mangle “The Boston Beguine.”  Stella ran from the bathroom, jumped on my foot and tried to bite my ankle through the mask.

Stella! Stop.  You’re tickling me.

I left the kitchen and made the bed.  I was thinking about the things the cats and I could do in quarantine that we hadn’t done before.  If Stella’s hair were longer, we could braid it.  We hadn’t played cards in some time because Annabelle cheats, and I always end up the Old Maid. Thatch loved playing Floyd Collins in the caverns I created out of the bed clothes for him, but I had just made the bed.  Visiting the neighbors was definitely out.  Decisions, decisions.

Okay, I called, the bed’s made!  It’s time for our morning conference!

From all parts of the apartment, Annabelle, Thatch, and Stella leaped onto my bed. Three face masks stared at me. They huddled together in solidarity.

I think we need to address this mask issue, I said.  They’re very important during this crisis, but they should be used wisely.  I don’t think you really need them in the apartment.

Annabelle stepped forward – she’s the one behind them wearing the masks 24/7 – and removed her mask.  We don’t want to get sick.  And if they start killing animals because of Covid-19, like they’re doing in China, we don’t want to die. 

The mask went back in place. and she stepped back.

The Chinese are overreacting. I can’t say that won’t happen here, but I like to think we are more civilized.

Thatch removed his mask.  I’m sure a lot of Germans in 1930 thought they were more civilized, too.

Well, Thatch, you got me there.  This country has too many Nazis.

Look at those fools protesting to stop this social distancing, Annabelle said.  What does “social distancing” mean anyway?

It means, Missy, that you three little kittens shouldn’t be huddling so close together.  You should be six feet apart.

Really?

If you’re outdoors, yes, but I don’t think you need to worry about that in this apartment.  I’m not going to worry about any of you catching the virus;  I don’t think it’s possible.

And if it is? Thatch asked.

Then it means I’ll probably catch it, too, and we’ll either recover or not.

Will they kill us? Annabelle asked.

They will have to kill me first.  No one’s going to hurt my babies. No one.  Ever. 

That’s a very lovely sentiment, Annabelle said, but when ICE comes for us-

ICE will not come for you, Annabelle.

Are you certain? Thatch asked.

They’re Trump’s Gestapo, Annabelle said.  I don’t trust them.

I don’t either, I thought.  Instead, I said, Yes.  ICE will not come for you.  So, will you take off those masks?

No, Annabelle said.  I think you should wear yours.

When I step outside, I’ll wear it.  I don’t need it here.  So, what shall we do today?

I’m napping, Annabelle said.  I have to look refreshed for my new head shots.

Will you take off your masks?

For the head shots? Of course.

Can we? Thatch asked.

No!  I’m taking a nap.  She jumped off the bed and retired to her hammock in the cat tree.

Me, too. Thatch jumped off the bed and headed back to the dresser.

Well, Stella, what do you want to do?  I looked at her closely.  She was fast asleep as well.

Well, I thought, if you can’t lick ‘em .  .  . I curled up next to her and drifted off to sleep.

©2020, Larry Moore