I’m writing every day of March for the Slice of Life Challenge at Two Writing Teachers

Not to complain, but this morning I reached my hand into a pocket of my backpack , right as I was about to leave the house, and I really shouldn’t have done that. The top to my bright pink lip gloss had gotten off somehow. Magenta gloss dripped off of pens and post-its, and an old mask and mini-notebook. As I tried to wipe things off my cat jumped up and started investigating. Finally, I just decided to put everything into a grocery bag, stuff a paper towel into that pocket and go.

Not to complain, but it was raining on my dog walk this afternoon, and also I wondered why my dog’s poop was green. Then I noticed the lego. So I guess it’s nice that he didn’t complain. But, he really shouldn’t be eating legos.

Not to complain, but there were 4 jelly beans left, until one dropped to the floor and that same dog chased after it and grabbed it before I could even see where it landed.

And that’s just the kind of day – well week this has been.

I mean, not to complain.

I want to know how my cats know it’s 5:42, and also why they can’t just wait 3 minutes for my alarm to wake me up.

Maybe they know I’ll hit snooze.

But, I can’t snooze Theodore. He’s the fluffiest cat I’ve ever known, and usually the chillest too. But, like clockwork he jumps on my nightstand and starts swatting things off of it to wake me up. It is almost always at 5:42. It’s not really my favorite way to wake up, hearing my books hit the floor. This morning I noticed the spray bottle I had set out to try to stop this situation was also on the floor. Well, that strategy won’t work I guess.

The cats pace around until I get up and then then chase each other down the steps, ready for breakfast. It’s actually super cute, or would be if it weren’t 5:45 in the morning.

If they are this smart, I could probably teach them to press “Brew Now” on my coffee maker.

This morning they were heartbroken. I forgot to set up the coffee maker last night, so before I fed them, I had to get the coffee started. Luckily they get over the sting of betrayal much faster that I do, and they were able to enjoy their breakfast.

Just like every morning, Clyde kept me company while I drank my coffee. Although, I think he was wondering why my hands were busy writing instead of petting him.

You might be worried about baby Clyde, the smallest creature in our house.

But, let me assure you.

He holds his own.

The dog backs away from his hiss.

He chases his older cat brother and sister around the house, and sometimes off of the cat tree.

At dinner time today, Clyde ate all of the big cats’ food. So I gave them some more. He ate that too.

Later, when he went upstairs, I gave the big cats another helping.
He must have heard the food clattering into the dish, because I soon heard his feet pattering down the steps.

This is why, if you had looked in my window tonight, you would have seen me spraying a sweet, tail-less baby kitten with a water spray bottle … so that the other cats could eat.

Yes, I used the same spray bottle I told my 15 year old to stop using not two hours ago, when I felt that he might have been over-disciplining baby Clyde.

I get it now.

You don’t need to worry about baby Clyde.

I promise.

This summer, I’m living in a nature documentary, waiting to hear Morgan Freeman or Sir David Attenborough narrate our life with our new kitten, Clyde.

Please do your best to read this slice of documentary narration in Morgan Freeman’s or Sir David Attenborough’s voice.

Hey! It’s a choose your own narrator slice! How might you narrate a part of your summer?

“Upstairs in his private den, the new baby practices his hunting skills. Watch as he perseveres against all odds.”

“As Clyde rests in his den, the cats and dog go about their daily routines, perhaps sensing a shift in the wind.”

“Soon it is time to introduce the animals to each other. In the wilds of the first floor, the cats and dog work to create their own social order.”

“The young kitten is brave. Maybe braver than he should be.”

“While wary of the newcomer, the fluffiest member of the family instinctively watches out for the baby. He even puts himself between the dog and the kitten when necessary. His sister is not so quick to protect. She wants to live her own life and starts lowly growling if Clyde comes too close.

The older cats will share their food, but, so that nobody is confused, they will still guard their sleeping habitat with all their heart.”

“The cats are working it out, but over here you see this 55 pound dog who is trying hard, but still unsure of what to do. He knows he isn’t supposed to fixate on the new kitten, but he’s curious. He wants to play, but he’s also afraid. Only time will tell. Will they will become friends, or simply creatures that cohabitate?”

“Listen for the sounds of the social order being created: The low growl of warning from a cat high up in their tree; the warning hiss from one cat to the another; the frightened hiss of a young tailless kitten; the whine of confused dog; the wagging of a tail; the crunching of food shared among the felines.”

“These sounds tell the real tale of this non-traditional animal family. We can only be but silent observers of the majestic dance of these household pets.”