The Adventures of PadFoots & ToeBeans #017

THE SARAH SITUATION

🐾 Initial observations regarding the unauthorized female and one extremely high adventure. 🐾

Sarah has now been in my kingdom long enough for me to conduct a preliminary assessment.

I would like to begin by stating that I am not sulking.

I am observing.

There is a difference.

Big Human made her decision.

Lil Human got her precious “girl cat named Sarah.”

The Royal Guard position remains vacant.

And I have been left to determine exactly what sort of creature Big Human has introduced into my household.

So far...

The answer appears to be:

A very small one with absolutely no concern for established procedure.

Most new cats understand that entering an unfamiliar home requires caution.

You hide for a while.

You watch.

You determine where the food is.

You identify the important members of government.

You approach the King respectfully.

Sarah did none of this.

Sarah walked out of her carrier, yelled at me, hit me, and then apparently decided she had always lived here.

There was no adjustment period.

No respectful observation.

No uncertainty whatsoever.

She simply began inspecting my property.

Rooms.

Furniture.

Windows.

People.

Padfoots.

Everything.

Matilda met her first.

Matilda looked at Sarah.

Sarah looked at Matilda.

Matilda apparently determined:

Small.

Fuzzy.

Not food.

Probably staying.

And went back to being Matilda.

This is why Matilda remains one of the more reasonable members of my staff.

Malachi was another matter.

Sarah moved.

Malachi noticed.

Sarah moved faster.

And somewhere deep within Malachi's enormous but inconsistently utilized brain, an ancient message appeared:

TINY PREY ANIMAL. CHASE.

He lunged approximately three steps before remembering that Big Human does not permit members of the household to hunt other members of the household.

He stopped.

Sarah turned around.

Sarah puffed.

Sarah hissed.

Malachi reconsidered several life choices.

Then he whined.

I watched all of this from a safe and dignified location.

Sarah did not seem particularly bothered.

This is important.

Because Sarah is not shy.

Sarah is not timid.

Sarah does not enter rooms wondering whether she belongs there.

Sarah enters rooms wondering what she can climb.

This is a very different personality type.

However...

There has been one unexpectedly positive development.

Sarah eats wet kitten food twice a day.

Big Human, being an enthusiastic supporter of equal-opportunity food distribution, has decided that if Sarah receives wet food...

Finan and I also receive wet food.

Twice.

Every.

Day.

On the kitchen island.

...

I would like the official record amended to show that I have always been strongly supportive of Sarah's nutritional needs.

This is a good program.

Possibly Big Human's finest policy decision to date.

There is only one problem.

Sarah does not understand bowl ownership.

There are three bowls.

One for Sarah.

One for Finan.

And one for me.

Simple.

Elegant.

An organized society.

Sarah disagrees.

Sarah eats from her bowl.

Then she looks at mine.

Then she moves toward mine.

I move my head into the appropriate defensive position.

She pushes her face in anyway.

I reposition.

She repositions.

And Big Human...

laughs.

Apparently watching a tiny female attempt to seize the King's breakfast is entertainment.

I disagree.

Finan, naturally, is useless in this matter because Finan has never recognized territorial boundaries where food is concerned.

So I now eat between one established food criminal and one rapidly developing food criminal.

Still...

Wet food twice a day.

Government requires compromise.

And for several days, this was the extent of my concerns.

Sarah explored.

Sarah climbed.

Sarah chirped.

Sarah hissed at things that did not require hissing.

Big Human and Lil Human found all of this extremely entertaining.

Then came...

The Mysterious Clank.

It was bedtime.

Big Human had finally settled into her pillows.

Matilda was already snoring.

Malachi had stretched himself across the rug in a manner that made walking through the living room unnecessarily complicated.

Finan had finally finished running on the cat wheel.

I suspect he was attempting to set a land-speed record.

At last...

The house was quiet.

Then—

CLANK.

Big Human opened one eye.

Silence.

She settled back into her pillow.

CLANK.

Big Human sighed.

I sighed too.

Because I had a feeling I already knew who was involved.

Whenever this household produces a brand-new sound...

It is almost never good news.

And lately...

It is almost always Sarah.

Big Human climbed out of bed.

I followed.

Someone needed to supervise.

The hallway was dark.

The living room was still.

No movement.

Nothing.

Then—

CLANK.

This time the sound came from above.

Big Human slowly looked toward the window.

Then higher.

Past the couch.

Past the lamp.

Past the very tall curtains.

Those curtains are enormous.

To humans...

They are simply curtains.

To cats...

They are an eight-foot forest of fabric stretching toward the clouds.

And at the very top...

Balanced on the narrow curtain rod...

was Sarah.

...

I looked at Big Human.

Big Human looked at Sarah.

Sarah looked down at both of us.

She was not halfway up.

She was not struggling.

She was not attempting to get down.

She had reached the summit.

Ninety-six inches into the sky.

For no obvious reason whatsoever.

Just to see what was up there.

Apparently the answer was:

Sarah.

She looked quite pleased with herself.

Naturally.

She had enormous ears.

Enormous paws.

Half a tail.

And absolutely no understanding of the phrase:

“That seems high enough.”

Big Human said her name.

Not loudly.

Just:

“Sarah.”

There are many ways humans say a cat's name.

This particular version meant:

I cannot believe I am seeing this.

Sarah blinked.

Big Human blinked.

I blinked.

For one very long moment...

No one moved.

Then Sarah gave one cheerful little chirp.

It sounded remarkably like:

You should see the view.

Before either of us could offer an opinion...

she gathered herself...

and jumped.

I would like the record to show that I expected disaster.

There was no disaster.

She landed neatly on the floor.

No stumble.

No skid.

Nothing.

Just—

floof.

She smoothed one whisker.

Looked around the room.

And casually walked toward the kitchen.

As though conquering the tallest peak in the house had simply been another item on today's schedule.

Big Human looked at me.

I looked at Big Human.

Neither of us said anything.

We did not need to.

I had warned her.

I told you so.

Big Human wanted the girl cat.

Big Human acquired the girl cat.

Big Human now has a girl cat on the curtain rod.

This is not my administrative failure.

However...

I have been reconsidering my original classification of Sarah as a potential threat to the monarchy.

A Queen requires dignity.

Restraint.

Structure.

An appreciation for rules.

A basic willingness to remain on the floor when appropriate.

Sarah possesses none of these qualities.

This is reassuring.

Frankly, I do not believe she has the temperament for government.

She is far too busy climbing it.

Therefore...

the throne appears safe.

But I would be foolish to ignore her other capabilities.

Sarah is extremely mobile.

She is fearless.

She can reach locations that Big Human clearly believes are inaccessible.

She appears willing to enter any room, inspect any shelf, and climb any object merely because it exists.

This could be useful.

Potential assignments include:

High-altitude reconnaissance.

Cabinet inspection.

Curtain surveillance.

Retrieval from elevated positions.

Investigating suspicious noises before I personally become involved.

And perhaps...

accessing locations where Big Human keeps things she believes are “out of reach.”

I am not yet prepared to formally recruit her.

She still needs training.

Most importantly...

she must learn which wet-food bowl belongs to me.

But I see potential.

Not Queen potential.

Absolutely not.

Something more practical.

A small, chaotic field operative who does not ask enough questions.

The fact that Big Human and Lil Human find her behavior delightful remains concerning.

The fact that her arrival resulted in wet kitten food twice daily remains...

extremely favorable.

MARLOWE'S UPDATED SARAH ASSESSMENT

Confidence: Excessive.

Fear: Apparently absent.

Respect for established household hierarchy: Developing poorly.

Relationship with Matilda: Accepted without incident.

Relationship with Malachi: Requires supervision.

Relationship with Finan: To be determined.

Relationship with my food bowl: Hostile takeover attempts documented.

Climbing ability: Alarmingly advanced.

Common sense: Questionable.

Entertainment value to humans: Disturbingly high.

Threat to monarchy: Reduced.

Potential usefulness: Increasing.

Current recommendation:

Do not permit Sarah to govern.

Consider recruitment.

Secure my breakfast.

And Big Human...

I told you so.

— 🐾 Marlowe - ToeBean-in-Charge 🐾
King of the Household
Defender of Assigned Food Bowls
Supervisor of Unlicensed Climbing Operations
Currently Evaluating Sarah for Field Service 🐾