From: Blossom Takes the High Road

Blossom Thanksgiving

That was it. The paw that broke the camel’s back. First her food dish and then her litter box. And now, the new cat carrier. Her cat carrier with the new cat carrier smell, now all down the drain because of dog goo.

Blossom let out a low, slow hiss. She’d show them, the Buttons and the Hatchers. She’d show them the evidence, every one of them.

She charged off to the kitchen, all the while thinking that low life, pickle stealing, farting chew stick police dog. She’d expose him for what he was. Let the whole gang see for themselves. All she had to do was point out the problem, like Lassie. One mighty meow and they’d all follow her back to the lobby. She’d alert them with a fierce roar, move in the direction they were meant to follow and then lead them to the crime scene. The adults would prod her on, whispering, “Show us, Blossom.” The children would trail behind, mouths hanging open.

Into the kitchen she raced where everyone was seated at the table. Standing in the doorway and gathering all her strength from deep down inside, up and out rolled the loudest, snarliest, lion-like howl from Blossom’s mouth. “MEOWWWWWWWW.” It was so earsplitting she shot straight up off the floor, nearly scaring herself to death. There was a moment of silence.

Muffin Top plastered himself against the opposite wall, his eyes bulged like bubbles ready to burst. All four Buttons stared with dropped jaws. Mr. and Mrs. Hatcher looked at Blossom as if she was a giant snake. Willow cringed and slowly shook her head. They were all holding hands as they did before the meal time prayer.

She’d interrupted prayer time. Blossom gulped. OK, this wasn’t in the plan and would almost surely earn her a time-out.

“Blossom, shame on you,” Mrs. Hatcher’s words had an edge equal to tearing paper.

“Um, Willow,” Mr. Hatcher nodded his head at the door.

“Right, Dad.” Willow got out of her chair. She scooped Blossom up with one arm and carried her out, shaking her head. “Blossom, Blossom, Blossom. Geez, what’s with you?”

“You don’t understand. No one understands me,” Blossom meowed. “Come look at my cat carrier, I’ll prove it.”

Willow carried Blossom into the lobby and set her down by the cat carrier.

“See?” Blossom scampered to her blanket and pawed the wet chew stick, its one end munched together like slickened hair.

“Blossom, don’t you want to come with us when we actually go to Grandma’s next time? You’re really screwing things up.”