I am so angry at you! Annabelle told me when I walked in from my trip to the mailroom. She was on the computer again.
Me? What did I do now? I asked her as I unloaded the packages from the bag on my walker. Oh, look, Annabelle! I’ve got your new issue of Backstage.
Don’t change the subject. You’ve really ruined my life.
Thatch staggered out of the kitchen carrying a tray with a cup and a saucer containing a roach. Stella followed him.
What’s this? I asked.
For me, Annabelle answered. I’m having whimsies and vapours over your treachery.
I told you to stop reading Congreve’s plays. Stella, Stella, baby, don’t trip Thatch.
I picked her up to prevent Thatch from spilling his tray. She bit my hand and I let her go. She ran into the bathroom.
Here, Annabelle, Thatch stopped in front of her.
Thank you, dear Thatch. This should calm my nerves. Such a good little brother!
What’s going on? I asked. What did I do?
Thatch has brought me some green tea and a roach to calm my nerves. Today I am positively, definitely, utterly shattered.
She sipped her tea, then devoured her roach.
I hope this helps, Annabelle, Thatch commented after he gave me a sheepish look.
So, I began, who’s going to tell me what’s going on? I pulled up the chair next to the computer and watched Annabelle pace around the computer table. With a loud sigh she lay down on the table and looked at me tragically.
You’ve ruined my lifew and my career! That’s all.
You’re just a little girl, Missy! You have a whole life ahead of you.
My life is over. You’ve ruined my hopes and dreams.
I did? Really? How?
Willow! Thatch spoke up. You know, the White House Cat?
I saw her photo, I said. Isn’t she adorable?
Annabelle sat up. That job should have been mine, she yelled at me. You blocked me.
I did no such thing, Missy.
After the Bidens moved in last year, they had those dogs – Major and Champ would have loved me – and I wanted to apply for the position of White House Cat. It would have made my career! I could have been the superstar I deserve to be.
Oh, yes, I vaguely remember that. We didn’t want you to leave us.
I didn’t want to move to Washington, Annabelle, Thatch spoke up. All my friends are here.
I wanted to be the White House Cat so I could sing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial! The whole nation is waiting for “Annabelle with an A!”
Oh, yes! I do remember this, I thought. Instead, I said, I thought you wanted to be the White House Cat so you could lobby for animal rights and no-kill shelters.
I forgot about that! Yes, that, too.
Annabelle, listen to Daddy: if I had suspected for one minute that you really wanted to be the While House Cat, I wouldn’t stop you. It’s my responsibility to see my babies thrive and prosper. That’s all I want for you.
Really?
Yes, but I would have died from a broken heart when you left us.
You would? Thatch asked. I gave him a don’t-get-in-the-way look and he jumped off the table. I wonder what Stella’s doing in the bathroom, he said as he turned and ran after her.
Annabelle, this morning, when I took the recyclables to the basement, I was thinking about those first months you were here and we did our morning patrols every day.
You were? I wish we still did them.
I wish I could walk and keep up with you. You were so cute and excited to explore the building and meet the neighbors. You ran up and down the stairs and danced in the lobby when you watched the sparrows and pigeons fight for food.
She laughed. I forgot the birds! We never see sparrows up here on the fire escape.
And you loved watching the scenery change with the seasons. You’re my little girl and I love you so much. Seriously, Annabelle, if you left me, I would die. I couldn’t live without you or Thatch or Stella.
Annabelle climbed into my lap and put her front paws on my neck. I lifted her into my arms and cradled her as she leaned off the edge of my left forearm and examined the space around her. As I held her, she purred and chirped in contentment. I quietly wept as I nuzzled the back of her neck.
I do like it here, she finally said, but I do wish I had my own room. Are you crying?
Allergies, that’s all. Allergies.
©2022, Larry Moore
Annabelle & Thatch 