Writing Revisited: K/Cat Café

“That one sneezed! He thinks he’s people!”

My family was talking about casts last night at supper, so I thought to thinking. About cats.

Also, the Florida Panthers eliminated the Toronto Maple Leafs from the Stanley Cup playoffs (that’s hockey) last night, so Cats are a hero to literally 31 other fanbases right now.

So here’s this. Again:

“I thought you’d like this place, Katherine,” Amara Valda tells her best friend.

Kat Darkstone looks up at the café’s sign. “Cat café?” she asks What’s a cat café? Is it a café for cats?”

A look of horror flashes across her face.

“They don’t cook the cats, do they?”

“No, Katherine,” Amara assures her. “It’s like a regular café, but with cats. You play with the cats while—”

Kat is already through the café door before Amara has finished speaking.

Despite her career as a adventurer, tomboyish tendencies, and taciturn temperament, Kat has always loved being around small, cute animals. Fittingly, she — a person named Kat — considers herself a cat person.

“Katherine, dear, please don’t embarrass us,” Amara calls after her.

The café’s waitress turns towards the sound of the opening door. “Hello, welcome to —”

“What do I have to buy to play with the cats?” Kat asks the waitress.

“Well, if you —”

Kat reaches into her pocket. “I’ll take one of everything,” she declares, shoving her money pouch into the waitress’ hand.

“R-right,” the waitress stammers, still not entirely clear on what just happened. “The play area is over there, and the tables are over there.”

“OkayNiceToMeYouThankYouTalkLaterBye,” Kat says, hurrying off towards the cats.

“Please do forgive my friend,” Amara tells the waitress. “She’s quite, ah, smitten with cats.”

“I can see that,” the waitress mutters.

Standing in the café’s play area, adrift in a furry, fluffy sea of feline cuteness, Kat is in her own personal paradise. She’s had dreams like this.

“Hello there,” Kat says to the cats.

Meow,” the cats answer to Kat.

Woof,” says one apparently rather confused cat, who promptly begins chewing and pulling on the cuff of Kat’s pant leg.

Woof?” Kat repeats incredulously.

The waitress appears at Kat’s shoulder. “That’s just Wolf. He’s a little strange, but don’t worry about him too much,” she explains. “He was orphaned as a kitten, but he was taken in by a mother dog who raised him with her puppies.”

“Arf!” Wolf says, relinquishing Kat’s cuff and trying to scramble up her leg.

Kat reaches down to scratch the doglike cat behind the ears and is rewarded by Wolf affectionately licking her fingers.

“Amara!” she calls across the café. “This place is awesome!”

Amara responds by smiling and saluting Kat with her teacup. “I’m glad to hear it, Katherine. But, Inside Voice, please.”

As Kat frolics with her new friends, Amara — not being one to frolic in public — has settled down at one of the café’s tables with a cup of tea, where a large white furball has subsequently settled down on her lap. Amara doesn’t have quite the same fancy for cats as he friend, but she does find herself rather enjoying the company of fluffy cat lazing her in lap.

“Look how fluffy that one is!” she hears Kat exclaim. “Look at that one’s tail! Oh no, that one’s limping!”

As Amara watches Kat and sips her tea, the cat in her lap mews indignantly at her whenever it feels she has neglected to pet it for too long.

“That one sneezed! He thinks he’s people!”

“Oh, Katherine,” Amara mutters to herself. “Whatever shall we do with you?”

Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License button.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.


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