Mom has stopped teasing me and trying to get me to write her Story A Day stories on Caturday. She says she’ll be glad when May is over, so she can have a day off. I pointed out that nobody forces her to blog every day, but she just says, “Hesh,” which she says was her great-grandmother’s version of “Hush.” She’s a little bit weird, my mom.
But she gave me a fun adventure this week. She says the last day in May is a Caturday. I still maintain I can’t write the story for her, but maybe I’ll collaborate with her on it. We’ll see.
Katya In Florence, Italy
by Marian Allen
Because she had heard her human mom praising it so, the first place she wanted to see was Florence, Italy. So she bought herself a first class ticket and off she flew.
Her mom had told her to take a hat, but Katya loved to sit in the sun, so she had saved her hat money to spend on the trip. As soon as she stepped off the plane, she was very much irritated to admit her mom had been right: The sun in Florence was beautiful but intense, like molten gold. So what was the first thing she bought?
It was made of woven straw, with a colorful scarf in place of a hatband. The second thing she bought was a silver brooch shaped like a turtle. She would give it to her mother as a souvenir but, meanwhile, she fastened it to her hat.
The cats of Florence all told her she needed to visit Rome, where cats roamed wild all over the city. Katya thanked them politely, but resolved to stay in Florence. She enjoyed sneaking outside on nice days, but that was as wild as she cared to roam, thank you. Neither did Venice sound at all appealing, with its canals and rising seawater. It made her shudder, just to think about it.
She wandered the streets and byways of the glorious city, eating whatever she pleased, thanks to the power of her enchanting green eyes and silver fur.
Turning one corner, she came upon a group of street musicians. She crept close to them, the better to hear them and feel the beat. Their donation box, empty before Katya stopped by them, began to fill.
The female singer, who didn’t play an instrument, knelt and stroked Katya’s head and back. Katya purred, but also squawked, which was Katya’s way.
Oof! The woman grabbed her! She stuffed Katya into an empty sack and cinched it closed.
But Katya wasn’t to be so easily taken. She protested loudly and fought against the muffling cloth.
From nearby alleys and distant squares, the cats of Florence came running. The musicians found themselves surrounded by growling, snarling felines.
“What is the commotion?” A policeman ran into the square. “What do you have in that sack, that has the attention of all the cats?”
“It’s a fish,” said the singer.
“It sounds like a cat.”
“It’s a catfish. Imported from America.”
“America, eh? America, I believe. For I know that hat, which is lying on the ground at your feet. That is the hat of the magnificent American tourist, Katya Graymalkin. It is she, who is in the sack. Release her at once!” He blew his whistle.
The singer released Katya with a grudging apology.
Katya’s Florentine friends greeted her with joy. They all took her out for wine and shrimp pasta, and they saw her safely onto the plane the next day.
Katya’s mom loved her brooch. Katya never told her about her adventure, not wanting to worry her, not even when her mom said, “Aren’t you glad you took a hat, like I told you to?”
~ * ~
Some bad jokes, Mom, but that was fun. >^..^<
A WRITING PROMPT FOR ANIMALS: If you could travel, where would you go?