All right, here’s story number 3. This is kind of like running a marathon–if you got to rest a week after every half mile.
Anyhow–my roommate suggested I write a story about my cat Midnight. He is a larger than life cat both in size and in personality. Almost everyone who has ever been to my house has a Midnight story. So I’m inspired–here’s the first one, which introduces Midnight.
And don’t worry Cinnamon (she’s my other cat and is sitting on my lap, as usual, while I write), you won’t be left out. And I’ll be sure to let everyone know that you are the alpha cat.
I tried a different kind of illustration this time–with word bubbles. It was pretty fun. Here it is–i hope you enjoy it!
The Story of a Grumpy Cat
First Story: Meet My Cat, Midnight
My cat is named Midnight. He is a fat, black cat with green jewel eyes, a crescent moon on his chest and stars under his arms. I wish he was a magical cat, but mostly, he is just grumpy.
Still, I love him and he loves me, even if he doesn’t always show it. He’s my grumpy boy. I have lots of names for him: Middy, Middy Nighty, Mr. Moo, Mr. Moosker, Middle of the Night Man and sometimes, Hey, cut it out!.
He comes when I call him. If he feels like it. And he always feels like it when it’s time for dinner. Then I am definitely his best friend.
When my friends come over to visit, he runs to the door and hisses at them and sometimes bats them with his paw.. They’re mostly scared of him. I have to move him out of the way or stand in front of him so they can come in. Sometimes I put him in my bedroom and shut the door. He hisses at me, then, but I know he feels better. He just doesn’t know how to act nice to strangers or how to make friends.
Sometimes he lays in the space between the dining room and the kitchen. It’s the narrowest space in the whole house. Then he yells at everyone who walks by. He makes me laugh.
He also talks a lot. It’s cat talk, of course, but I can understand what he’s saying. The best one is at dinnertime when he says “Ma-ma.” If my mom says, “Say Mama,” he does, although sometimes he just says “Mom.” And if you ask him when he wants his dinner, he says “Now,” although you have to listen very carefully to hear that one. He chirps like a bird when he wakes up and wants to be petted. And he growls like a dog if you don’t stop petting him soon enough. He likes to lay in funny places. If you bring home a bag, he’ll lay in it, or on it. But when he goes in, usually his behind sticks out. He likes to lay in boxes, in or on suitcases, on purses or bags or coats or clothes if you leave them laying around, like I sometimes do.
But at the end of the day, when I go to bed, after I wash up and brush my teeth and lay out my clothes for tomorrow and put on my pajamas, he’s waiting for me in my bed. When I climb in next to him, he purrs so loudly I can hardly hear my bedtime story. But he snuggles up against me and purrs me to sleep every night. I love that sweet, grumpy old cat.