I apologize for not blogging the last couple of days. I needed to get myself mentally and physically prepared for a big opportunity I would be interviewing for. I can’t tell you about it yet, but I promise I will as soon as I can.
The moment arrives, the big interview begins as my cell phone rings. I answer politely, letting my comfortable spot on the couch coax my anxiety away from my voice.
Then Kato woke up.
He’s taken to sleeping on Pam’s bed, since she leaves her bedroom door open for the cats to have more space. We don’t have an issue with him doing this, obviously, but it comes with a particular issue. Every now and then, he’ll wake up not knowing if he is alone or not. He doesn’t like to be alone, so this search for companionship usually occurs with a meow or two.
Did I say meow? I meant banshee impersonation. Or demonic karaoke. Whatever it is, it is not a dainty sound, nor is it quiet or discreet.
I felt the color drain from my face as I flung my seated body sideways and into the hallway. He cuts off mid-scream and prances toward me as I carry on the interview, assuring the women on the other end of the phone line that the crash they just heard was nothing important and them calling earlier than expected truly was fine.
Then I watch him stray to the closet where we keep his food.
I knew what was coming next, but I was powerless to stop him as he got up, tapped the hanging toy from the doorknob as my wife helpfully trained him to do to ask for food, and unleashes another long, pitiful wail. This time, I hear a pregnant pause and feel the silent questions slinking through the phone line, but pretend I don’t notice and calmly answer their question.
This continues for another five minutes or so. Kato follows me around doing his best impression of a screaming human baby while I calmly get a sheet of paper and pen, write down a quick note pit stop in our snack cupboard, and walk out of my apartment.
Outside, I verbally affirm what’s being said to me as positively as I can while I beeline towards the landscaping professionals that have been sweeping, bull-dozing, yelling, leaf-blowing, mowing for at least an hour outside our building. I try to portray myself as non-threatening as possible as I hand them a note and a couple of cookies.
“Dear amazing landscapers,
My cat is conducting some kind of Occult Summoning of Demons Opera while I’m doing this phone interview. You get an Oreo each if you take a five minute break. ~I’m not crazy.”
Totally, not-at-all weird, right?
They gratefully laughed, gave me a thumbs up for good luck, and walked away from their machinery until I got off the phone, thanked them profusely, and went back inside, where Kato slept peacefully on the dining room chair closest to the door.
He’s lucky he’s cute.