Talk to the Tail

I’ve mentioned in the past that Obi’s tail has a mind of its own. This week, The Boy and I have been getting on Tail’s last nerve.

First, as I was scritching Obi’s back, Tail was trying to knock things off the coffee table. I caught the box of bandaids as it tumbled off the table and set it back up. And the brush. And a pen. Insulted, Tail asked Obi to stomp off in a huff.

Later, The Boy was brushing Obi. The Boy brushed Tail. Tail does not like to be brushed. The brown kitten got his belly brushed, but then Tail asked him to stomp off in a huff.

At lunchtime today, Obi was napping on the back of the loveseat while I was reading on the couch. The Boy came in and sat on the loveseat. “Why aren’t you snuggling with The Girl,” he asked, “after you’ve been so neglected all morning?” The Boy had already told me that the brown kitten was severely neglected – having only been belly rubbed, and brushed, and gotten and tall all morning. I told him we were hanging out in the living room together. So that was enough.

But The Boy continued to sit on the loveseat. Obi went back to sleep but Tail remained awake. And irritated. He flicked. He slapped himself down on the cushion. He twitched and slapped again.

Finally, The Boy got the hint. Or, at least, he left to go play golf.

And Tail slept.

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