Annabelle! Missy, you are early. It isn’t time yet. I looked at the clock in the kitchen. 5:15, and that meant there was an hour before I gave the kitties their evening treat. I returned to my book. I had no sooner settled back into it when Annabelle leaped onto my lap and pushed her way past the book to snuggle into my neck. I put the book aside and held her close to me.
I love you so much, Missy, but you’re still early. I will give you your treat in an hour!
Annabelle stopped snuggling and pulled back. What? she asked. What do you mean?
I’m wise to your tricks, Missy! I love holding you, but you’re not getting your treat this early, no matter how much you snuggle up to me.
She gave me a disgusted look and climbed off my lap.
Busted! Thatch yelled.
Stella, who was having her post-dinner nap in this mangled Amazon carton the cats will not let me toss out, looked up, then shifted position and went back to sleep.
Don’t you know I love you? she asked me.
Yes, I do know, but I’m also aware when you’re playing me.
Me? I’m just a little girl.
Well, little girl, I’m not Donald Trump, who likes anyone who kisses his fat ass. I will give you your treat when it’s time. You’ve got, I looked at the clock, about forty-five minutes to wait.
Well, I’m hungry.
You ate plenty at dinner. It won’t be long. You can wait.
I picked up my book. Annabelle groaned dramatically and paced around the floor in circles.
Is it the time change? she demanded. Is this another Trump strategy? He is ruining my life! I hate him!
Yours, mine, and millions of others, I thought. Instead, I said, How many times do I have to tell you Trump is not behind Daylight Saving Time. That was invented long before Trump became our president.
Oh, he lies about everything, she said. Today he admitted he knew about this virus and lied to everyone! It’s all over the news.
He did, and I hope he pays for that lie. He’s responsible for a lot of deaths.
Because of his lies my career is dead, too. I’m a star with no stage! This just proves he lied about Daylight Saving Time. I know he’s behind it.
Oh, Annabelle . . .
I’ll show you. I’m checking my new Facebook site. She jumped onto the computer table.
You’ve joined another Facebook group? I asked.
Thatch, who had joined her at the computer, turned to me. Yes! We love it.
Well, what is it? I asked. I want to know.
“Cats Against Trump.” Thatch told me.
Yes! Annabelle added. We are proud Democats, and we want you to buy us their T-shirt. Thatch, Stella, and I want to wear them when we march for Joe and Kamala.
Oh, you’re on first-name basis, are you? Well, let Daddy check out this site. I don’t need my three little kittens joining some anarchist group.
I went to the computer and checked out this new Facebook group. I’d hate to see the three of them ending up in a federal penitentiary. I could never smuggle a file inside in a can of Fancy Feast.
Well, I like this site, I told them. I’ll buy shirts for all of us!
Thatch and Annabelle cheered and told me I was the best daddy on the Upper West side, and Stella danced around the computer table until she became so excited that she jumped onto my shoulder and bit my ear!
©2020, Larry Moore
Annabelle & Thatch 