An excerpt from According to Phoenix
Remember, Phoenix was rescued from an animal shelter by her Dad, and later given to Walter and me.
Chapter 5
Dog Paddling
Mom and Dad both worked long, hard hours. At last, it was time for
a vacation. We all had different ideas about what we would like to do
with our week. Dad said there was a big truck show in Dallas, Texas,
and he thought it would be fun to go to it. Mom said she thought it
was much too hot to go to a truck show and would prefer going to the
beach. Staying at the park playing ball and chasing Frisbees was my
idea of a perfect week.
At last, Dad had an idea that pleased all of us. He said we could
go to Branson, Missouri, rent a pontoon boat, and spend the week on
the lake. I had never been to a lake, but I could tell there was excitement
in the air. They went to the store and bought two coolers. They
filled one with ice and drinks and the other with food. They packed
blankets, sunscreen and, of course, enough clothes for the week. I
quickly checked to make sure they had packed a supply of balls, Frisbees,
and food for me, and we were off for a week of fun at the lake.
It only took about an hour to get to Branson, but it seemed more
like four hours. Mom and Dad sang songs, and I even tried to join
in. We finally got there, and they selected a pontoon boat. I pranced
down the pier just ahead of them and jumped onto the boat. Oh,
somebody help me, please! Something wasn’t right. The floor was
moving up and down underneath my paws, and I started getting sick.
It got even worse when Mom and Dad stepped on. Please, somebody
help me! I stood as still as I possibly could, trying to steady my legs.
Each time I tried to walk, the floor came up and met me.
Dad cranked the boat and started pulling away from the pier. Not
me, Dad! Not today. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll sit this one out.
Mom grabbed my collar just in time to keep me from jumping back
to the pier. I really wished she had not done that, because it was going
to seem like the longest week of my life. I finally found a spot that was
out of the way where I could lie down and try to keep my stomach
where it belonged. I finally dozed off to sleep, and when I woke, I felt
much better. I still didn’t think it was normal for the floor to move.
It was getting late in the afternoon, and we were all hungry. Dad
fired up the grill, Mom made some hamburger patties, and I’m sure
the people on the other side of the lake could smell them cooking.
Dad said since it was a special night I could have a burger, too. We
toasted marshmallows over the hot coals that were left in the grill. I
didn’t care much for them. They were much too sticky, and I got them
all over my snout. Mom gave me some of my treats. It had been a
really long day, and we were all tired, so we decided to go to bed early.
I’m sure I would have slept much better without the frog and cricket
quartet.
We all slept late the next morning, and it had already started
getting hot when we woke up. Dad said he thought he would go
for swim, and before I had a chance to wonder what he was talking
about, he dived off the side of the boat and disappeared! He was gone;
nowhere to be seen. I paced back and forth across the end of the deck.
I couldn’t see my dad anywhere. That was the worst thing that had
ever happened to me. My dad had disappeared right in front of my
eyes! What could I do? Just as suddenly as he had disappeared, he
reappeared; at least part of him did.
We still had a problem. Half of him was still missing. I was sure
he was in horrible pain, because he was hitting the water with his
arms. The pain must have affected him mentally, because he was
laughing, and telling me to come into the water with him. I wasn’t
sure what he was thinking, but I needed my legs. He took hold of the
ladder that was attached to the side of the boat and pulled himself
up out of the water. Oh, wag my tail! My whole dad was back. In the
blink of an eye, he leaned forward and scooped me up into his arms
and I knew what was about to happen. I don’t think so, Dad. I don’t
want to go into the … Splash! Help me, Mom! I can’t … I can’t … I
suppose I can swim; at least I can dog paddle.
The entire week was filled with excitement and new adventures.
Dad would throw my ball out into the water. It was fun to swim out,
get the ball, and bring it back to him. I finally learned if I would back
up from the edge the boat and start running, I could dive into the
water several feet from the boat. I had no idea swimming could be
so much fun. Another thing I really enjoyed was sitting at the front
of the boat when it was moving. The wind blowing in my face felt so
good.
Dad got in a little fishing, but he did most of it while I was napping.
He was concerned I might get a fishhook in my paw. One day
he caught a fish, and the excitement woke me. When he took the fish
off the hook, it slipped out of his hands. Things got really exciting for
while! The fish was flopping around on the deck, I was trying to catch
it, Dad was trying to keep me away from it, and Mom was yelling
because we were rocking the boat too hard. The fish finally managed
to slip over the edge of the boat back into the water. I tried to catch
it, but lost my balance and fell into the water right behind it. I wish
I could swim half as fast as that fish; it was out of my sight in about
two seconds.
When our week ended and we returned home, I continued for a
long time to think of all the fun we had. What I never did learn to
enjoy was toasted marshmallows. Sometimes, while I was napping, I
dreamed of the wind blowing through my hair, and of how good it felt
to swim around in the cool water. In my dreams, I actually enjoyed the
sound of the singing frogs and crickets. I really hoped the next time
we had a vacation we would do exactly the same thing.
I hope you enjoy this excerpt from According to Punkin.
Chapter 7
To Groom or Not to Groom
I have never suffered such indignation! I screamed, howled and even hissed at my mom a couple of times, but nothing I did would change her mind. She was determined to give me a bath, so into that water I went with a splash, but she would not turn me loose. I’m sure I would have died of embarrassment if anyone had walked into the room. I was wet from head to toe, and as if water wasn’t bad enough, she was spreading some slimy stuff on me that she called shampoo, and had the nerve to tell me it was gonna make me smell good! There’s nothing wrong with the way I smell. I smell like a cat, for goodness sake. Then, the thing that really didn’t make sense was that she poured more water on me to get the shampoo off. If it was gonna make me smell good, why didn’t she leave it on me? Oh well, I hoped this humiliation wasn’t going to last too much longer because she was reaching for a towel. Now that turned out to be even worse. She wrapped me up like some kind of baby, and talked baby talk to me. That was almost comforting, if only I had known no one would walk into the room, but that was too easy. I heard the front door close, then I heard boots walking across the floor, and I knew my worst fears had come true. It was my dad, of all people. I surely didn’t want him to see me in this horrible condition. As mom turned to talk to him, I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked like a drowned rat! My fur was all wet and clung to me as if it had syrup in it. I was sure I would never be normal again. I was going to spend the remainder of my life looking like a wet noodle. Then mom turned me back around, and I got a look at dad’s face. I wasn’t quite sure what that look meant, but as soon as he spoke I figured it out. He chewed mom out really good, starting with “What are you doing to my baby? I could hear her screaming all the way out in the yard. Don’t ever give that cat another bath. She will do her own bathing.” Oh happy day! Saved by the daddy! That’s the last bath I’ve ever had, except for the ones I give myself. I’m really quite good at it, and it’s something I do several times a day. I always bathe after I eat, which is very often. Mom did ask the vet about it, and he said that a cat is quite capable of keeping themselves very clean, so baths are not at all necessary. As soon as dad left the room, she got out the scissors. This looked really bad, but she said she just needed to trim the matted places out of my fur. I was really glad when she finished that job. It didn’t hurt at all, but I didn’t like it.
Please don’t misunderstand me, I love my mom very much, but I surely was glad to win that battle. But that was only one battle of a continuing war. The next trauma was getting the claws clipped. I have what they call a scratching post, but sometimes I use the nearest piece of furniture to pull the old sheaths off my claws. I stretch up as tall as I can, dig my claws in and pull really hard, and that does the trick. When mom catches me using the furniture, she gets really angry with me. Sometimes the furniture tears, so I guess that’s why she yells at me, and still thinks my claws need trimming. I guess she’s right. I just don’t want her to know it.
Another thing I don’t understand about all of this grooming is getting my ears cleaned out. Why does it matter if my ears are a little dirty? Nobody should be looking inside my ears anyhow. It’s not like my face being dirty. My ears are my private property, and I sure don’t like a cotton swab being stuck into them. Cotton swabs were intended for cleaning around the little hard-to-get-to places on the dash of a big truck, not for cat ears, so please, spare me the indignity.
You know, now that it’s over, I suppose the grooming wasn’t so bad after all. Mom has laid me in my basket and covered me with a nice warm, fluffy towel that she just took out of the dryer, and I’m getting really sleepy. I think I can take a very long nap now. When I wake, I’ll tell you about some of my favorite toys. Good night.
