Silky The Siamese: A Short Story
When I was a boy, the cats I knew had jobs, like regular folks. Orange Tom, my father’s favorite, and Tom’s gray-haired female companion worked in our dairy barn keeping mice out of the feed. They earned a splash of fresh cow’s milk twice a day.
It was a beneficial association, legitimate contract labor and one entirely appropriate to a cat’s inherent dignity.
Things change. I have a cat now. No barn. Only a cat. My cat, Silky the Siamese, has no idea that mice and feed don’t mix. Silky doesn’t work for a living, a thing I thought common in the feline world.
I have Silky, the unemployed cat, because I wanted my wife.
After I met this really smart, funny, and sweet-smelling woman, after we had snuggled in movie theaters and held hands across …show more content…
We bought a house, and the three of us moved in together. Silky adored the woman. The woman adored Silky. I, having had the good sense to marry the woman, sometimes found myself acceptable cat furniture. I accepted those random moments in Silky’s company, stroking her fur and speculating on what was transpiring behind her bewitching blue eyes. I knew her presence meant I had been assigned a place in the Siamese universe. So opens the chapter in Silky’s biography where we introduce a new character, Beemer.
I’ve always liked dogs. I had become the owner of a house. Houses have yards. No yard is complete without a dog. I bought a dog. Simple male logic.
It began when the woman whose hair smelled nice decided she disliked her Volkswagen and wanted a new car. “A BMW is nice,” she offered. “So are dogs,” I agreed.
A successful marriage involves compromise. We bought the dog instead of the car. I named the dog Beemer, even though he was neither German nor a shepherd.
One minor problem. Silky the cat hated Beemer the dog. Despised, detested, abhorred him, found him obnoxious to the third power. How do I know that? Because Silky
It was a beneficial association, legitimate contract labor and one entirely appropriate to a cat’s inherent dignity.
Things change. I have a cat now. No barn. Only a cat. My cat, Silky the Siamese, has no idea that mice and feed don’t mix. Silky doesn’t work for a living, a thing I thought common in the feline world.
I have Silky, the unemployed cat, because I wanted my wife.
After I met this really smart, funny, and sweet-smelling woman, after we had snuggled in movie theaters and held hands across …show more content…
We bought a house, and the three of us moved in together. Silky adored the woman. The woman adored Silky. I, having had the good sense to marry the woman, sometimes found myself acceptable cat furniture. I accepted those random moments in Silky’s company, stroking her fur and speculating on what was transpiring behind her bewitching blue eyes. I knew her presence meant I had been assigned a place in the Siamese universe. So opens the chapter in Silky’s biography where we introduce a new character, Beemer.
I’ve always liked dogs. I had become the owner of a house. Houses have yards. No yard is complete without a dog. I bought a dog. Simple male logic.
It began when the woman whose hair smelled nice decided she disliked her Volkswagen and wanted a new car. “A BMW is nice,” she offered. “So are dogs,” I agreed.
A successful marriage involves compromise. We bought the dog instead of the car. I named the dog Beemer, even though he was neither German nor a shepherd.
One minor problem. Silky the cat hated Beemer the dog. Despised, detested, abhorred him, found him obnoxious to the third power. How do I know that? Because Silky