The Sandwich: #129

The Sandwich


I spent the night in a shivery funk, sitting in the corner of my spartan room in the cats' home. Strange sounds happened in my ears: the noise of walloping and crinkling, all sorts of splatty poundings. It was when the stringy fallooping started that I really sat up and took notice. I don't know what kind of horrid nonsense was going on in other parts of the building, but it didn't sound decent.

In the morning, Felix Scratcher brought me some breakfast. It was a book. He said it was food for the mind, which was all very well, but it was my tummy that was hungry. Nevertheless, I ate it. Some of the chapters were a bit tough, but most of it went down a treat.

I was then invited to take part in one of the cats' group sessions. There were about two dozen cats there when I arrived, licking themselves, tearing at the furniture and showing various levels of disinterest. Mr Scratcher said that we would start with a trust exercise. He told me to cross my arms, close my eyes and fall backwards, and the cats would catch me. I did so and hit the floor with a wump. Mr Scratcher seemed satisfied with this and asked me to do it again. I did it again and hit the floor with a crack. Again, Mr Scratcher was rather pleased, and asked me to do it a third time. I did it a third time and hit the floor with a horrible splintering sound. I didn't know if it was me or the floor.

At this point I thought it was time to get smart, so I strained my brains, and decided to stay on the floor, since it was safer. I said to Mr Scratcher that I thought the cats were going to catch me. He said that he thought they were going to catch me as well, and that this should be a lesson for me. Then they all went off to play table tennis, but I stayed where I was because the way they played it sounded lethal.



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