The Vacuum Cleaner MonsterPublished August 11, 2008
I am an avid cat lover. I also enjoy hanging out with a group of like-minded folks who enthusiastically adore sharing interesting and funny anecdotes about their fur babies. Often these exchanges have a "can you top this one?" edge to them. I hope you will find this one amusing. It is one of my favorites.
Many years ago, when I was first married, my husband and I were presented with a diminutive black kitten as a wedding gift. The little ball of fur, only eight weeks-of-age, was presented to us rather unceremoniously in a shoebox; the top riddled with holes. Obviously someone had extremely big feet, because the box far too large for him. He looked so tiny and helpless, and we fell in love with him instantly. He soon turned out to be a little rascal, getting into everything and finding amazing places in which to hide, that kept us on our toes. Therefore, we named him "Nemesis."
Nemesis was half-Siamese. His mother was Siamese; his daddy a traveling salesman. After a brief but passionate love affair, 9 weeks later, the litter was born.
Nemesis grew slowly into a huge, beautiful black cat sporting a tiny patch of white on his chest. Intelligent and curious, he spent most of his time exploring our one bedroom apartment, finding nooks and crannies of interest. Yet while he was a brave and feisty feline, one object in our home brought him to his paws in terror.
Yes, you guessed it. Just spying the vacuum cleaner on the floor terrified him, and he would stalk across the room, tail between his legs, crouching in terror. The moment he heard the motor start, he would dash under the bed in a flash, trembling. Poor kitty! I felt sorry for him, but at the same time, it was important to keep our apartment clean. I always tried to remove the frightening vacuum monster upon finishing my household task, and it was only then that Nemesis would reappear. First, his nose, then his ears, followed by his body, hovering close to the floor, much like the Cheshire cat reconstituting himself. However, he would remain on guard until he was certain that the gleaming canister presented no more threat to his safety.
One afternoon, I carelessly forgot to stow the vacuum in the closet. It sat on the carpet, like the “elephant in the living room.” Nemesis fled under the bed, of course, but he became impatient to be in my lap, and started to crawl slowly out on his belly from underneath his hiding place.
He stood motionless at the quiet beast in front of him. Gathering himself together, I watched in fascination as he slowly arched his back, puffing his tail up in a threatening way. In a very aggressive and warlike manner, he slowly moved toward that which frightened him more than anything in the world did. I call that courage to the extreme.
"Thwap!" I heard his paw strike the blue metal monster. "Slap, slap" repeatedly until he was convinced that his "nemesis" had been abolished to the netherworld. I swear I saw a look of pride on his face as he slowly sauntered into the room proud and delighted with himself.
I am certain that Nemesis was aware he had successfully killed the vacuum cleaner. Since there were no more reasons to be fearful, somewhere in his brilliant cat-brain he derived a conclusion and never fled from the vacuum again. However he prudently retreated to a chair in whatever room I was cleaning..
Do you ever wonder about what your cats are thinking? Do they ever make you laugh? Share some of those moments with us by leaving a comment.