As I rested under the rowan tree, Bobin
landed on a branch above me.
“Fly up and sit with me,” he said.
“I can’t,” I replied.
“Because cats can’t fly.”
“Because we’re not birds.”
“Because nature wanted some creatures to live
in the trees and some to live on the ground”
It suddenly occurred to me that perhaps the
only reason that cats can’t fly is because no one has ever
bothered trying. Maybe I could be the first cat to fly. I could
soar above the trees, swoop across mountains, and even fly to
the moon. I sat up on my hind legs and flapped my front paws. I
didn’t move off the ground.
“Faster!” cried Bobin.
I flapped faster.
I flapped even faster.
“Look at stupid Adrian trying to fly,” came
the irritating gruff voice of Brutus from across the fence.
I was too embarrassed to reply. I simply
began washing my face as if that’s what I had intended doing all
“Don’t talk to Adrian like that,” said Bobin.
“What are you going to do about it, small
fry?” growled Brutus.
“I’ll bash you,” chirped Bobin.
“You and whose army?” yelped Brutus.
Bobin flew out of the tree, hovered a few
feet above Brutus and pooed straight into his right eye.
Shrieking with pain and humiliation, Brutus rushed indoors to
tell his humans what had happened.
I like Bobin!