As always, the Forever Knight characters were created by James D. Parriott and are
owned by Sony/TriStar.
************************************************************************
Yes, Natalie-- There *Is* A Kitty Claws
by Vivian Rutledge
as pantomimed to Bonnie Rutledge
***November 29th***
"This year, Grace, I swear that I'm sending my greeting cards out early," Natalie
declared while perusing the boxes of festive stationary stacked strategically at Palermo's
Books and Post.
Grace clucked in sympathy. "Last Christmas was a whirlwind, wasn't it? I gave up even
trying to get out cards for the Bonne Annee. Yep, I ended up adding 'Happy Epiphany'
messages to every single note last year."
"Exactly. If I put it off, I just know work will get swamped, and I'll never do it. That's
why I'm going to find the perfect cards *today*. Since I have this weekend off, I'll sign and
address every one, then mail them on Monday as I pat myself on the back. *Nothing* will
stop me from getting the job done this year."
***December 1st***
"There. All done." Natalie applied the last stamp with satisfaction, a proud glint in her
eye. She rose from the sofa, nudging Sidney under the chin. Natalie's very attractive, gray
and white cat stretched sinuously from his night-time nap.
Actually, it had been a morning nap. Then he indulged in an afternoon nap, followed by
an evening nap, only to culminate in a brand new night-time nap. Because Mom's activities
had been so very boring all day long, Sidney was a well-rested boy.
First, she had spent the morning revising her Christmas address list. In checking names
and addresses of co-workers, old college pals, medical school alumni, professional
colleagues, and a mass of distant relatives, Natalie spent the early day rummaging through
old letters and correspondence. Lunchtime had found Natalie on the phone, drilling the
operator at Information for additional routes and zip codes. Sidney yawned once more in
remembrance of this drudgery, then extended in a full languorous stretch, his hind legs
sticking out with splayed toes like some sort of furry drumstick.
Uhmm...Drumstick. Sidney was hungry and mumbled this fact to his Mom, who sleepily
and happily stacked the prized cards in two neat piles on the coffee table, then shuffled into
the kitchen to grant a Sidney-snack.
By the time early afternoon had rolled around, Sidney recalled as he enthusiastically
munched on his stinky-fish-mixed-with-nutritionally-complete-and-scientifically-formulated-
kibble, Natalie had finally gotten started writing on the greeting cards. She didn't just label
them with an innocuous 'Happy Holidays' and consider it done. Oh no.
She individualized each message for the recipient with just enough combined humor,
sentimentality, and reaffirmations that life as a single, childless coroner was The Best Thing
Ever! Natalie obviously thought that these were the best Season's Greetings composed in the
history of Canada. She was still smiling bemusedly as she meandered off to bed.
Sidney had not been overly impressed with the appearance of the cards, despite Mom's
oohing and ahhing as she exhibited the front image for his enjoyment. It displayed an angel,
lithographed in shades of gold leaf and cream on layers of delicate rice paper. Natalie had
employed a special fine-tipped dark amber calligraphy pen for writing, which Sidney sniffed
disapprovingly because of the unpleasant fumes. Mom was *definitely* giving these
rectangles of paper way too much attention.
Sidney nudged his way into Natalie's bedroom, observing how she snuggled her pillow in
a warm embrace, a secretive grin on her slumbering face. He considered the merits of curling
up alongside one foot, but rejected the idea. Sidney had been sleeping all day, and he felt
quite a bit of spring to his step. He wanted to PLAY.
Sidney wiggled his way through the apartment, springing up and over the furniture in a
joyous burst of energy, ending his romp at the coffee table by standing and flexing his
foreclaws over the edge. Whoops! His yoga disturbed one pile of envelopes, causing a
couple to slither over the side and whittle to the floor.
He froze and frowned inquisitively at the sound. Perhaps these cards were more
interesting than he had previously thought. He tentatively prodded one with his right paw,
then leapt backward at the scratching sound. It was a very exciting sound to catly ears.
Sidney clasped one envelope corner in his jaws and waddled towards the kitchen while
dragging the missive between his legs as though it was the carcass of a mighty wildebeest.
Reaching the linoleum floor, he spit the paper from his mouth, twitching in pleasure at the
resulting sound.
Crouching down, he focused his concentration upon the offensive document. Wriggling
his hind end in preparation, Sidney pounced upon the object, stomped it liberally, then
thwaped it across the floor with a mighty blow.
Swip-swoosh-swap-thip-thip-thip! Sidney indulged himself in a rousing round of paw
hockey until the envelope finally scuttled across the floor and underneath the refrigerator.
Sidney froze, frowned, and attempted to retrieve his newfound toy to no avail. Insouciant, he
pranced back towards the coffee table, fetching a second Christmas card for his attentions.
Sidney had a fine time over the next two hours. Five dozen envelopes in all were batted
and skidded about the kitchen floor until they came to rest beneath the stove, fridge, clothes
washer, and dryer. Running out of new card-toys, a now exhausted Sidney moseyed back to
his Mom's room and spooned up at her side, ready for another nap.
***December 2nd***
"Sixty Christmas cards, Grace!" Natalie wailed. "I spent all day yesterday on sixty
Christmas cards, and they just - poof! - disappeared!"
***December 10th***
By the time Natalie had a chance to return to Palermo's Books and Post, all of the angel
cards imported from Italy had been sold. In fact, five dozen of *any* card was not to be
found. Natalie was required to judiciously trim a handful of people from her list. This time,
she chose to make do with forty-eight blocks of recycled paper emblazoned with an adorable
feline sporting a Santa hat. Not as perfect as the angels, Natalie thought, but they would
suffice.
Natalie rushed the cards home and spent the three hours before she was due at work
hurriedly re-signing and addressing the lot. She did not personalize the notes inside again,
but rather repeated the same two-paragraph message on each one, conveying her general
well-being and best wishes. Her metallic paint pen ran dry after the first couple of notes, so
she chose to continue using a festive green ink.
Sealing the last flap, Natalie wandered to her desk to grab some stamps. She found only
one. Sighing, Natalie grumbled to herself. She would have to get some more postage on her
way home from work, then mail the cards the next day.
The phone rang. It was a summons for Natalie to attend a crime scene, so she hastened
distractedly out the front door.
Sidney was hungry. His was certain that his stomach was an empty cavern. The sides of
his belly had rubbed together for so long, surely it had formed a blister? Mom had dashed
off to work, forgetting to put food in his bowl *again*. Sidney scratched at the couch
upholstery in irritation. So what was a starving kitty-boy to do? How could he assuage the
aching of his tummy?
Sidney slinked through the apartment, pretending he was a fierce and feral jungle cat,
prepared to wrestle to the death for a juicy bite of - Kleenex! He flung his torso at the tissue
box, and they rattled and rolled to the floor in a flurry of paws and cardboard. The container
was empty.
Dejected, Sidney wandered out of his Mom's bathroom, bemoaning his terrible fate. A
handsome male, cut down in his prime, left to waste away by a cruel, unfeeling parent.
Jumping up on the coffee table, he was ready to stretch out and emaciate in prominent view.
Natalie would be sure to see him and feel the utmost guilt about Not Feeding The Cat when
she arrived home.
Sidney pillowed his fuzzy head atop the stack of cheerful candy cane envelopes piled at
one end on the table. Hmmm... there was something interesting about the way these cards
smelled. Somehow...minty. Sidney felt his nose tingle at the odor and his whiskers twitched.
He flehmed his lips in a grimace, sucking in the titillating aroma. Stabilizing an envelope
with two paws, Sidney licked his chops, reared his jaws open and...
***December 11th***
It was nine in the morning when Natalie, yawning and bedraggled, unlocked her front
door. Her medical bag, in addition to the thermometer, stethoscope, and other doctoral
accessories, contained a roll of fifty stamps. She walked to the couch, pulled off her overcoat
and slung it over the sofa back. She unsnapped her earrings, turned, and tossed them on the
coffee table.
Natalie did a double-take, examining the coffee table again, her mouth widening in
horror.
Sidney dozed in the middle of the piece of furniture, on his back, his silky belly fur
exposed proudly in contentment, all four of his paws sticking up with curled toes.
Surrounding the cat was an amalgamation of greeting card fragments. Some had been
shredded into tiny bits, some gnawed and slobbered into a tattered mess, and other envelopes
were merely perforated repeatedly with tiny canine bite patterns of vampiresque graffiti.
Every last one was blemished and ruined.
Sidney rolled over dreamily to his side, and Natalie could have sworn she heard him
belch.
***December 19***
Natalie, harried and haggard, dumped an enormous pile of cat morsels into Sidney's
bowl.
"Eat, eat, eat, Sid! I have to do Christmas cards! No paper snacking will be allowed this
time! So eat!"
Sidney, not wishing to be a difficult sort, gorged himself.
Natalie left her cat to consume alone and steeled herself to prepare a third set of
Christmas cards. The card shelf at the bookstore had become a barren wasteland. Its racks
were empty of offerings save two beaten boxes etched with disreputable elves chugging lager
and smoking cigars.
Trimming her list of sendees yet again, Natalie spread the twenty-four cards out into three
neat rows on her coffee table and to autograph them with a Bic.
Sidney wobbled into den, his stomach engorged to its fullest. Moreover, he was feeling a
bit woozy. He crawled up onto the sofa next to his Mom, wanting inform her of his nausea.
She was too occupied scribbling on paper, so the cat moved to the edge of the coffee table.
Natalie ignored him, very much disinclined to humor Sidney at the moment.
He coughed, then felt his diaphragm wheeze with the sudden urge of regurgitation, right
in the direction of those three neat rows *and* Mom's hands...
"Uggghhhh! SIDNEY!!!!"
***December 24th***
Natalie sat at the computer, trying to put the finishing touches on her virtual Christmas
card. It was the perfect solution: nothing for Sidney to steal, nothing for him to tear, and
certainly nothing for him to vomit upon.
It had taken some extra time to track down e-mail addresses for the majority of people on
her original list. Maybe a dozen folks didn't have e-mail capabilities, so she scratched their
names off.
Natalie was content with the progress of her holiday page so far. She had drawn the
picture all by herself, complete with a stick-figure Santa, eight tiny, linear reindeer, plus
Rudolph (a linear reindeer with a red dot). She had begun to type in text that was full of
good cheer when Sidney hopped on top of her desk and proceeded to sit in the middle of the
keyboard. The computer began to furiously beep. A collection of letters (If Natalie had
bothered to translate, she would have found them to be a quotation from a Russian version of
'Twelfth Night') streaked across her display screen.
"All right, young man!" Natalie fussed. "That's enough! You're going to your room!"
She banished a confused Sidney to her bedroom. He was of the opinion that *all* of the
rooms were his. Mom must be very tired to forget his territory. Filled with ennui, he
bounced with feline exuberance atop the bed.
Sidney became a statue, espying a forbidden object - the folding, painted-silk screen.
Mom hissed at him whenever she saw Sidney trying to play with it. He plopped down from
the bed and tiptoed silently towards the fragile, freestanding object.
As he deftly pushed the base of the screen with one paw, it wobbled and swayed. Sidney
looked over his shoulder to see if immediate censure was sure to follow. The bedroom door
remained shut, the pitter-patter of Mom at the keyboard tickling his ears. Sidney stared at the
designs on the silk, the painted swirls appearing to hypnotize him. He blinked solemnly at
the structure, then allowed his muscles to grow tense.
Sidney attacked, throwing all of his weight against the screen frame, impaling the
translucent fabric about five feet off the ground, and hanging by his claws. The screen began
to topple over, while gravity simultaneously began to rip the cat's nails downwards through
the thin cloth.
The top of the screen's wooden framework smashed the bedroom window, causing
Sidney to spring under the bed in alarm. Glass segments crumpled to the street below. The
decorative panel toppled down, crashing into a taunt power line. This power line, unusual
because most of the electrical wiring ran underground, snapped in two. Somehow, the
current was interrupted by the breaking cord, reversed and surged back to the generator.
There was a sparkly explosion.
Natalie was reaching out to press the 'Send' button when her entire block plummeted into
darkness.
***December 25th***
"I appreciate your invitation to stay here until my power comes back on." Natalie was
curled up in front of the blazing fireplace in Nick's loft. Nick snuggled up at her side, an arm
looped around her waist.
He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "I'm glad you accepted. Merry Christmas,
Nat."
"Merry Christmas, Nick." Natalie made a happy sound and gave him a hug. "You know,
I never did get to send out my Christmas cards..."
"You could try sending out another batch in honor of Elvis' birthday. That's in January,"
Nick joked.
Nat giggled. "Oh, yeah. Schanke would *love* that I remembered."
Huddled in Nick's arms in front of the fire, the whole Christmas card fiasco began to
seem less important. Everything she wanted was right here, and she hadn't a worry in the
world.
Sidney enjoyed zipping up and down Nick's stairs the first fifty times, but he was starting
to lose interest. Everything at his place smelled *very* interesting. Layers upon layers of
scents amassed over centuries graced several items. Sidney was looking at one such piece
now. It was a painting of a woman, a portrait sprinkled with a familiar perfume, one that,
every once in a while, he would sniff off of Nick.
Sidney huffed to himself, deciding he like Mom's smell *much* better. Impishly, Sidney
stretched both paws towards the painting, claws extended, and...
"SIDNEY!!!!!"
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The End
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