Queen Of Cats

• Huy (emma) Nguyen, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2014

Tutankhamun’s tutu! Thoth’s thongs! Ra’s bandages! Meow! No swear word will be enough to match my feelings inside! How DARE my mistress let a filthy dog inside the house! Already he has chased me up a tree, used my litter box, trashed my balls of wool and growled at me!
I have tried to settle this in a mature way with mother’s lesson on etiquette and manners. Yet he did not seem to respond nicely to my hissing and spitting. Hmph! I am Arabella, royal descendant of the ancient Toothed-Ones! No dog will intimidate me!
My best weapon (after my claws) is to study this dog. It turns out its name is Princess. A dumb name really, can’t my mistress see that it’s a boy? I can’t blame her; she already knows I am way more superior compared to her. Enough criticising, she is not worth it and beneath me. I must concentrate on the dog. Princess likes chasing sticks and balls. Hmmm… This might come in handy. He has no retractable claws, hardly any whiskers and can’t chase any mice. I almost feel sorry for him!
It’s time for Plan A. I must play with the dog (one must make GREAT sacrifices to have a victory) and trick him into leaving the house. Take a deep breathe Arabella.
I stalk up to the dog and ask him if he wants to play “Chase the Yarn”. Princess looks surprised. Well he should! It’s not every day a high-ranking cat asks you to play her favourite game. “O-o-okay,” he stutters. “You’re not going to bite me or anything, are you”? Does he think I’m some sort of barbarian? I have done nothing to give him the wrong impression!
“Of course not, why would I?!” I say through gritted teeth. “You just wait there and I’ll go get my yarn.” I run inside and choose my 42nd best yarn. Knowing Princess, he’ll probably wreck it in 10 minutes.
I leap (pas de chat!) outside and hit the ball of yarn away. Princess bounds after the ball and brings it to me in his mouth. Then he lays it at my feet. Ewww, dog slobber. After a few repetitions of this routine I start to enjoy playing the game. But I can’t allow this to happen! I’m not supposed to enjoy playing with a dog!
I then decide to put my plan into action. I push the ball to the fence. Then I bat it away as hard as I can through a hole. Princess then races through the open gate to chase the yarn. Looking at the disappearing dot of Princess, I know that I had doomed his life to a street one (very poetic aren’t I?).
But I sound as if I LIKE the dog. Surely not! Get a grip of yourself Arabella! Great! The dog has left and I am now content… uh I think. All day my conscience nags me. I cannot let it rule my mind! But it still does. My dreams that night are filled with screaming gates, strangling balls of yarn and Princesses with tiaras.
I wake up to a sound of barking. Instantly my face turns into a scowl. Did Princess ever hear the saying “Let sleeping cats lie”? But still, my guilty conscience turns into a happy one. I know that’s not going to last! Because there I see… MY TRASHED BED! The blankets have mud on them and the pillows are torn!! Time for Plan B.