In the Morning
Milly thought the day started out rather well. She had woken up in the loaf position, nose touching the pillow in front of her, then rolling onto her side pressed her little paws into the soft stomach of her redheaded human. The human was warm, unconscious and only a few minutes from waking. The hairy human woke at this point, and reached over to stroke Milly’s ears. “Do you want to use the bathroom before I get up?” he said to the redhead, who mumbled something, clearly still asleep. Milly cracked an eye at the hairy one. Why did he always start talking the very second he woke up? She stretched out her legs, slowly got up and went through her morning yoga poses. Time for a little pre-breakfast munch at the biscuit bowl before hoping back into bed. She noticed it was raining and decided that she could complete much aportant business while her humans were out. She nudged back underneath the covers as her humans started to go about their morning routine and pretended to doze quietly.
“How’re you feeling today?” the hairy one said.
“Ok thank you,” the redheaded one said, she was still quite sleepy and kept flicking her phone alarm onto snooze every five minutes. “I had a really good dream about time travel, my Editor-in-Chief at the magazine was showing me how to time travel, you had to go through two (hu)man-made wooden structures and there was a whole underground society in London who knew where and how. My editor chose Stoke-on-Trent in 1960 though, which obviously wouldn’t have been my first choice.”
While the humans spoke about their dreams and their days ahead, Milly was silently planning hers as heavy rain always provided a good cover for getting things done. Milly was 3 years old, smaller than average at about 7lbs and she had a fluffy white coat with grey and black splodges. Some of her feet pads were pink and some were charcoal grey, and her eyes were big; bright and golden. They had rescued her from the Blue Cross about 18 months ago, and she had been there a long time: after being diagnosed with FIV or feline-immunodeficiency-virus, humans just passed her by. However, what those hapless volunteers at the rescue centre didn’t realise, was that Milly was quite an unusual cat, and the positive FIV result had been produced by some quick thinking and cunning on Milly’s part. She had a well thought out plan, and knew she didn’t want to end up with just any humans. When her humans had walked through the rescue centre, she had seen them coming and jumped down meowing loudly. She could see that they were just what she wanted, affectionate; well-adjusted and naïve enough to think her ‘diagnosis’ made her vulnerable and meek. However vulnerable and meek was exactly what Milly wasn’t.