Tipper Allen’s Springtime Story #Caturday #StoryADayMay 5

Hi, there! I’m Tipper Allen, and guess what? I had an adventure!

Tipper Allen’s Springtime Story

by Tipper Allen

My momma has been sad this week. Today is the birfday of her bestest friend, but her friend died last fall. And today is Derby Day, when she has a Derby party wif Granny, but Granny died in January.

So last night I said, “It’s Caturday, too. I write your May story on Caturday. So you just read or sumpin, okay?”

So she went to bed.

Sometimes I fink Poppa doesn’t understand a word I meow, but last night it was like he did: He asked Momma to leave the back door open so he could catch a couple of breezes (that’s sumpin my #4 Hooman Sister used to say and Momma taught me). So I just kept pushing on the screen door until it opened. And I got out!

Poppa didn’t know it, because he was watching politicks on his puter. Momma didn’t know it, because I sent her to bed to read.

I got out! I didn’t stay on the porch, either!

You know how, when you’re inside, the night looks all blackety outside? It’s not that blackety outside! It was pretty blackety, all right, but a little lightery, too. Everything was kind of swooshery, and the sky had a little leak in it and my fur got wet.

I’m not telling where I went. Okay, I’ll tell. I didn’t go very far. Did you know there’s more to the outside than what you can see through the window? I mean, I know there’s the vet’s, and I can’t see that through the window, but I kind of thought the car was magic and just made the house turn into a vet’s office and the yard turn into a parking lot. But no! There’s really real places beside your own house!

I heard Poppa open the rumbly basement door, which he never does at night. He came out wif a flashlight and flashed it all around, but I stayed under the tree. When he rumbled the door closed and went back in, I went sploring again.

It was BO-ring! No birds and squirrels, like I like to watch in the daytime. I heard some night-time birds, but I couldn’t see them. I didn’t even see any mouse-birds. Maybe cause it was raining.

Then Momma started calling me. Poppa must have got her up. She turned on the porch lights, and she went to one door and called me, then she went to the other door and called me. She went back and forth and back and forth.

I felt sorry for her, but I didn’t want to come back, so I didn’t. But then I did. I wasn’t scared, I just didn’t want her to worry. But I was kind of mad at her for bringing Sweetie Pie to live with us, so I didn’t come up on the porch and holler. I just stood up next to the porch in the light, so she could see me. If she really loved me, she would see me before very long.

Sure enough, I hadn’t been there long enough to get wet from the rain when she looked out and saw me. She talked sweet to me, but I just looked away. I thought about running off when she got close, but I didn’t want to. I let her pick me up and bring me in.

She hollered up the stairs to Poppa that she “got” me — Ha! She knew and I knew she knew and she knew I knew she knew that I let myself get got!

“Why did you do that?” she said, and she petteded me the whole time. “Why did you run off? You’re my best boy!”

“Better than Sweetie Pie?”

“You’re a much better boy than Sweetie Pie!”

Sweetie Pie’s a girl, but I’m still a better boy than she is! So there, Sweetie Pie!

~*~

MY PROMPTS TODAY: A true story!

If you liked this story, you might like Momma’sother stories and hernovels. Support an author: buy a book and leave an Amazon review. I thank you, and my hooman thanks you.

TA

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One thought on “Tipper Allen’s Springtime Story #Caturday #StoryADayMay 5

    • Marian Allen
      Twitter:

      May 5, 2018 at 10:04am

      We were VERY worried! We live in the country, and there are coyotes and stray cats around. Not to mention skunks!

      Permalink  ⋅ Reply
  1. A good friend moved to New Mexico with her fluffly white outdoor cat, which was supposed to become an indoor cat because of the coyotes. Well, it go out – and is no longer with us. Outdoor has things that eat you if you’re small enough to be picked up, say 5’7″ of man. Hehe.

    Permalink  ⋅ Reply
    • Marian Allen
      Twitter:

      May 6, 2018 at 7:59am

      I’ve been telling him that, Alicia, but he was sure he was tough enough to brave the outdoors. I hope he learned his lesson with nothing worse than damp fur. He’s certainly been snuggley since he came back in.

      Permalink  ⋅ Reply
  2. Oh my, this post had everything. I almost died of the cuteness of the leak in the sky and then I almost cried, cause I was worried to Tipper, and I was sad cause you’re sad, and politicks sucks. I’m glad Tipper was swooped up and placed back inside.
    I am sorry this weekend is full of mourning signposts for you. I am glad you have the love of a very good boy.

    Permalink  ⋅ Reply
    • Marian Allen
      Twitter:

      May 6, 2018 at 8:02am

      Thank you, Joey. It’s a relief when I pass a signpost, though. I say to myself, “Well, that’s done. I never have to pass that signpost for the first time again.” And I am, indeed, very lucky. If I toted up my sads and my blessings, I’d run out of sads first.

      Permalink  ⋅ Reply
  3. acflory
    Twitter:

    May 5, 2018 at 7:41pm

    lmao – you are definitely a better boy than Sweetie Pie! I’m glad your adventure ended well coz Mums worry when their boys run away. -huge hugs-

    Permalink  ⋅ Reply
    • Marian Allen
      Twitter:

      May 6, 2018 at 8:05am

      We do worry! #1 Daughter, next door, has some feral cats she feeds, and I was afraid her Simon would object to Tipper wandering around in his territory. I don’t think Simon would settle for growling and hissing, like Sweetie Pie. Tipper might be in for a big shock, if he met up with Simon. So we’re keeping an extra sharp eye on our doors now, to be certain-sure they’re tightly closed!

      Permalink  ⋅ Reply
      • acflory
        Twitter:

        May 6, 2018 at 6:23pm

        Gah…we used to have a feral cat terrorize our cats so I know how nasty they can be. Luckily once Mogi grew up, she scared it off. She’s a chihuahua cross and half the size of this unwelcome visitor, but she loves /her/ cats and has a bark that could break glass. 🙂
        I hope Tipper stays safely indoors from now on!

        Permalink  ⋅ Reply
  4. pm laberge
    Twitter:

    May 6, 2018 at 1:21am

    Cats have a VERY good sense of direction.
    Consider Buddy. (Who admittedly is smarter than me… Hey! It’s NOT that hard a job!)

    We usually use the same route to go visit his mum at Extendicare. He knows the route there, and the route back. He has also figured out they are opposites!

    So, a couple of weeks ago, we went to see Noella. Rick drives and I hold Buddy. We bring the cage, which Buddy abhors. But he has his harness and leash on, and Rick drives slowly and carefully. He sits in my arms carefully observing everything. So he is safe and happy. But we took a DIFFERENT route. This upset him. And the more I told him we were going to see mum, the madder he got. We finally figured it out. He was telling us we were off route! I had to calm him down and carefully explain there are several routes to see mum, but we took this one, because we had to stop off, and get Noella a banana or 2. Only then, would he calm down. Go figure!

    Huumins are a little slow, they say….
    This is your Feline GPS! You are on the wrong route! Reeeer! Roooow!

    Little monster! He fools his dad all the time.

    Permalink  ⋅ Reply
      • pm laberge
        Twitter:

        May 6, 2018 at 10:37pm

        But the story is 100% true. And he bitched again today, when we took the Kingsway, instead of Lasalle Blvd, to go see Lesley! But the minute you tell him that we know what we are doing, we get the Felinic… “Oh, DO you now?” look. Then he watches out the window a bit, and crashes back on dad’s lap to nap!

        This philosophical concept of using different routes to get to the same place, requires Cat Thinking. Best done during a nap, of course.

        Rik said to him: Look who’s driving the car? You’re not the boss.
        We will let him live…

        Permalink  ⋅ Reply
          • pm laberge
            Twitter:

            May 8, 2018 at 12:51am

            Well, Buddy believes, sometimes. Of course, as all felines do, he expects, to be believed, trusted, loved, obeyed, and given treats…

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