I Had A Cat Post
Wubert and his nemesis in an earlier, more peaceful time
My opponent towered above me, a freakish giant standing well over five feet [!] tall, weighing approximately forty pounds, and sporting an epidermis composed of discarded red carpet remnants. Myself: two feet tall, a stout fifteen pounds [after a big lunch], and covered from head to toe with fuzz, whiskers, and ‘tude.
And I took him down.
The process took a few years, but the result was inevitable. I remember my first [forced] encounter with the red giant…
“Look what we gotcha Wubert, your own cat tree!” my tenants gushed as they scooped up my slender [yes, slender] seven pound frame and plopped me on top of a wobbly construct of carpet, particle board, and staples.
“Oh yeah, this is safe–NOT!” I thought to myself as I eyed the monstrosity warily. Of course, I never let on. Instead, I took the high road and gave them each a playful bite-scratch combo in thanks.
“OUCH! Bad something or other!” I vaguely remember them screaming before they raced each other to the band-aid box. “You’re welcome,” I glared back.
From that day forward I dedicated my days to taking down my rugged rival. Each day I’d scratch it, pounce upon it, swat it, lick it [on the odd day I felt a bit needy.] In addition to the physical torment I inflicted [in between naps] on a daily basis, I also trained my body, bulking up to add more power to my actions.
The fateful day occurred a few days ago. After ‘training’ with some crunchies, I darted toward my nemesis and quickly scaled its carpeted countenance. I landed on top of my wobbly foe for but a moment; for upon the completion of said moment the tower came down with a crash. Of course, with my catlike reflexes, I leapt to safety, turned, and took a last look at my vanquished adversary. It was over.
What challenger will appear tomorrow? I know it’s only a matter of time before the struggle will begin anew.
So I wait.
The King of the Condo
