A Conversation Between Two Cats: Part III

Clem left his usual loitering place by the front porch. He hadn't seen Autumn all morning and was curious.

Autumn sat on the back steps, licking a paw. Clem sat staring. This unnerved Autumn.

"What do you want, idiot-cat?"

"Just wanted to see what you're doing."

"OK, so you've seen. Now get lost, or better yet, go lick the stripe in
the middle of the highway. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than
seeing you as road pizza."

Clem was quiet, nursing hurt feelings and showing a rare moment of vocal restraint.

Finally, Autumn spoke. "Say, listen...I'm sorry for being so mean. To make it up, I'll let you in on a little secret, OK?"

"Sure!" Clem gushed.

"You see that comforter drying on the clothesline?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"Well, the lady lets me do something that is really fun. Come here and I'll show you."

The two cats walked side-by-side, an illusion of friendship,  toward the clothesline.

"Watch this," Autumn commanded.

She proceeded to climb up the comforter with her claws. Since it was
draped across two wires, there was a valley in the middle where the
comforter drooped. She gazed down at Clem from the precipice.

"See. Now watch this--here's the fun part." Autumn then slid down the
other side, using her claws to slow her descent, but not without
causing serious damage to the fabric.

"Wait a minute, Autumn. Won't they get mad because you're tearing the duvet?" His pronunciation of "duvet" was gauche, the last syllable rhyming with "pet".

"Nah. They don't hang anything out here that they want. This will
probably be thrown away and she's just getting it out of the house."

"Oh. OK, then." Clem then started to climb up the comforter. As soon as
his back was to Autumn, she ran toward the back door, mounted her
meowing perch, and started her five-alarm meow regimen.

Clem called from the promontory, "Hey, this is fun! I can't believe they would let us do something like this."

The boy came to the door, witnessed an orange cat scaling his mother's best comforter, and sounded his own five-alarm call.

Clem was slowly making his way down the other side, not as sure of his
dismount skills as Autumn had been. About half the way to the ground,
his revelry disintegrated. The woman had come out of the house, broom
in hand. Her stalking had been unintentional, yet Clem's preoccupation
caused him to miss her approach until first contact from the broom.

Clem's shock and alarm was slowly realized, giving her time to make
contact two or three more times before Clem dropped to the ground and
made for the hills. She had shown no restraint in swinging the broom.
The orange cat, once to safety, limped off into the bushes.

Autumn sat on her meowing perch and licked a paw.

(To be continued.)