The papers I carried with me were longer than my tail. Descended from Seti I and Queen Tuya, well known by all, I sauntered into the Rescue Center waving my heritage high like an American Flag. Yeah, I know, they say there’s no such thing as finding a purebred in Rescue, but I was hell bent on disproving that theory.
The Director held open the door. You’re in Bank 2, Row 1, Cage 3. Need a paw up?
I looked at her disdainfully. Any Meezer with my family’s history of long lanky legs certainly didn’t need any help hopping up to a higher place. After all, we came from a higher place and responded to a higher calling. We were, after all, very Royal meezers.
The door clanged shut behind me. “Ummm, excuse me. HelloOOOO out there!!! Get back here please! Someone has slept in this Millie bed previously – I can smell them! Look, I’m paying good money for this place! I’d like some CLEAN bedding please!”
“It’s allllllright. Now quiet down. Dinner is at 5, breakfast at 7. Group playtime during the day, if you play nicely, evenings are individual cage time. It’s evening now, so get some shut eye, big day tomorrow when you’ll see the other cats.” And with that, she exited the room, scrubs swishing gently.
“Huh? Hey, bud, how do I request my chicken liver? There is room service in this third class hotel, right?” I extended my paw as far as I could through the cage bars and waived it in the direction of my neighbor.
“Yea right,” said Reuben. “Hear that Rosie? This guy thinks he’s going to get chicken liver. Geez. What do you think this is, the Ritz?”
“Well I did request first class accommodations from my reservationist. I’m sure there’s some mistake. Let me show you my papers, and you’ll see what I mean….”
“Aaaah, don’t bother chump. Don’t matter none anywho. You’re walking on the dark side here. Now if you don’t mind, time for some shut eye.” And with that, I heard a thunk followed by some fairly snarfly breathing sounds.
Hmmmph. This place had a lot to learn about royalty. Obviously I had my work cut out for me.
After a long night on what turned out to be a quite comfortable bed (despite having to keep my nose in a wrinkle so I didn’t smell the rugrats), I was awakened by the sounds of breakfast. Aha, here we go, I thought, here comes the Sevruga. “Oh dear, I’m sorry, that’s not what I ordered. And where’s my crystal dish? Everyone knows that the Setis only eat from the finest crystal. Would you have a word with the chef please and let him know that Ramesses is asking?” And Reuben, what is it with you and the snortling? For goodness sakes blow your nose, you sound like a complete inbred, it’s disgusting.”
“Listen, Prince Here & There,” snarfled Reuben. “You’re obviously got a thing or two to learn about Rescue. Your fancy diploma won’t do you any good here. We’re all in the same boat – left a bad situation and looking for a better one. Take Rosie for instance. Can’t look a human bean in the eye without breaking out in hives. Highly allergic to most of them, forced to leave her family because they were so irritating. And then there’s Phoebe. Lived in a family with tiny beans who had no idea how to use the litterbox and messed themselves all the time. What a stink, completely unacceptable for those of us who like to be clean. Needs a family already toilet trained. And Muffy. Her family redecorated. Everything wooden, not a thing left to scratch on. What did they expect her to do? So we packed our bags. Hit the road. And here we are, looking to better our situation.”
Harrumph. Not applicable at all. I came from a purrfect home with well trained beans. Very clean. Always flushed. Not an issue amongst them. No reason I couldn’t stay. I’m sure this is just temporary, after all, I was quite an investment.
Dublin gave a smirk. Perfect, huh? Then what’cha doing here anyway? Sounds a little hoakey to me, bud.
Rosie looked at me with those gentle, blue eyes. It’s alright, guy, don’t worry. They’re very good at finding the right home.
And so the days became weeks and the weeks, months. Reuben, Rosie, and even Dublin found their new families, but I remained at the Center. Not to worry, it was the slow time of the year, they said. And then, one Saturday……
They were nothing like I envisioned. A crinkle-ball face with grey scruff attached to a tiny little bean in pigtails came trotting towards me. “Oooh, let’s get this one, pappy, pullleeese!” Dangling like a ragdoll, I closed my eyes to a smell that was an interesting combination of fresh cut hay, tobacco, and early morning grits. A far cry from Sevruga, but it had a home-like smell to it.
I batted at the pigtails to squeals of delight. Small beans? What was the problem? I certainly didn’t have one. Wonder why my first family thought I would?
Photo credit: Amanda Thompson
