The Wrapped Thing

She stared at the wrapped thing. What was in it?

A paw swiped at the red ribbon tying it together. Her human had left it there and not opened it.

She swiped the opposite paw to get the same results. Bringing her nose closer to it, she sniffed. It smelled a little like a human who wasn’t hers.

She couldn’t tell if there was food inside. There should always be food. Her human was lax with it lately just when she thought she’d trained him well.

However would she find the time to fit more training in. The poor dear couldn’t even hunt properly. Not only that but more human training would greatly interfere with her regularly scheduled napping time. Did the human think of only himself? She didn’t ask for much. Just food, water, and devotion. It really wasn’t much. And she was a goddess after all. A pity so many humans had forgotten.

She swiped her paws again. Her claw caught on the ribbon. It moved but did not give way. What was this that needed to be so hidden from her? She scratched through the first layer made of paper.

Good. Now she could see inside. What lay beneath scrapped against the ends of her paws. Something stronger than paper. Solid but soft.

She turned from the wrapped thing and went in search of her human. Meowed when he did not pay attention to her. He had the talking device next to his ear. She’d heard it called a phone. Liked it much better than the vacuum. Sometimes her human showed her images of herself on it. And shared them with others like himself. That was fine and good. Other humans should worship her, too.

She climbed up on the couch. When her human sat down next to her, she crawled in his lap and swiped at the talking thing when she heard a human’s voice that did not belong to the one serving as her chair.

Her human’s hand rested on her back. She let him pet her. It felt nice.

The other voice coming from the phone stopped. He set it down on the table next to the sofa.

She peered up at him with her bright green eyes.

He smiled down at her.

Very good. He should be happy to see her. She was awake early from her nap after all. The least he could do was appreciate it.

He picked her up when he stood. She allowed him to continue carrying her. He was always gentle when he did so. He wasn’t the first human who had been hers but she liked him better than the last one who often forgot to feed her twice a day. Sometimes this human even gave her snacks. She ate them even if she wasn’t hungry. He did not provide them often enough otherwise.

Her human sat her down in front of her water bowl. She looked back up at him. He stood over by the sink. She waited for him to refill it with a pitcher.

She lapped up a sip. It was cold. The temperature she liked.

She trailed after him when he left the pitcher on the counter.

He was heading towards the box.

She got to it before he did.

He gave no answer when she meowed. How rude!

She really was going to have to spend more time training him.

But first, she had to know what was in the wrapped thing.

She swiped at it again with her paw. The ribbon tugged without giving way.

Her human untied it and gave it to her. She settled down in front of it, tossed it from paw to paw, before resuming watching her human.

He finished the job she had started with her claws and tore the rest of the paper off.

He slid something sharp along the edge.

What took him so long? And then she remembered what a terrible hunter he was. He really should be more disciplined.

What was inside the wrapped thing?

A noise came from the kitchen.

She’d watched her human put food in the oven earlier. She didn’t like the machine. It was nothing more than a giant hot thing. Too hot when it was in use and too cold throughout the rest of the day.

He set the wrapped thing aside.

Had he no attention span? All she wanted to know what was in the box. It was not big enough for her to play in.

She stayed with the now unwrapped thing.

The sound of water running came from the kitchen. That usually meant her human prepared to eat. She would let him. He had remembered to keep food and water readily available for her.

She peered inside the box. Something clear with many tiny circles on it kept her from seeing what was inside.

She swiped at it. The clear stuff stayed where it was as her claws slid along it.

Her human returned just when she decided to settle down for another nap.

She saw him pick up the box.

Yawning, she rested her head against the couch. She lost interest in the thing now. It was not as fun to play with as the ribbon she’d left on the floor.

Her human pulled out the clear stuff. An ear perked up when he spoke and called her name.

Ignoring him, she went back to sleep.