A comic strip idea. Or a head trip.
Me: I'm home, Slow Pie!
Cat: Gawd...it's about time.
Me: And hello to you, Miss Puss 'n' Boots. You used to greet me at the door, you know.
Cat: I've been all alone all weekend all summer long. No TV. Nobody to talk to. Cut me a break.
Me: Yeah. And I do feel a little bad about that.
Cat: Now fill up my bowl and keep the pill out this time.
Me: I don't think so. You're sick and old and need your medicine, remember?
Cat: It was worth a try. But don't think I won't spit it out if I find it this time.
Answering Machine: You have a message!
Cat: Don't answer that! It's nobody.
Answering Machine: Hi Sophie! It's your doctor and we haven't seen you in like three months. Tell your momma to bring her checkbook and get you here immediately!
Me: Should I tell them you died?
Cat: Heh. Heh.
Me: But then how would we get your thyroid medicine?
Cat: We don't.
Me: But you need that. Remember how banshee-like you become when you are not on it.
Me: It's getting very expensive, this doctor. I am spending $200 every 3 months on you. And then he holds out on refilling your prescription if I don't bring you in right away. It's criminal.
Cat: You saying I'm not worth it?
Me: No. I would not mind spending the money if he actually could find out what is *wrong* with you.
Cat: Oh. You want there to be something wrong with me?
Me: No. But there is clearly something wrong with you.
Cat: Pshaw. I'm just old.
Me: Yeah. You are. I am pretty sure if I had a grandparent, you'd be hitting the shuffleboard and Early Bird special together. You know, if we still lived in Florida.
Cat: Sounds funner than slinking around this place. It's hell. I can't get my exercise. I look out the window and all I see are buildings and sky. I try to see that view of Georgetown you swear you see, but I just don't get it. There are no birds. No squirrels. No dogs barking. Just cars and the occassional drunken kid running down that hill that, oh by the way, I can't see, I can only hear.
Me: It's a beautiful neighborhood. Sorry. I'm not taking you to suburbia.
Cat: Hate it. You took me away from that big old house where I had my very own bedroom, my very own chair pulled up to my very own window, overlooking my very own tree, with Mr. Squirrel to occupy my time. Not to mention I had stairs to exercise on. Space to be on my own, you know.
Me: That, sweet pea, was Timbuktu. Not going back.
Cat: So maybe you should let me die in peace in some kind of retirement home with lots of climbing towers and bags laying around for me to jump in and plants for me to eat. And some privacy. Since you deprive me of all these things.
Me: Oh. Stop being so melodramatic. I don't see you ever dying. Truly you are the Energizer bunny.
Cat: Maybe you shouldn't be on the go so much. Maybe you should be spending more time at home with me. We are not as close as we used to be.
Me: Well, I noticed you don't really sit on my lap anymore. You lay on the floor or under my bed.
Cat: Oh yeah. Go look in the bedroom.
Cat: What can I say? I threw up again. Now give me some more food.
Me: You just ate.
Cat: No. I want some of that rotisserie chicken I smell.
Me: You say that every time and every time I give you your own little plate of little bite-size pieces and you never eat it.
Cat: You give me the dark meat!
Me: What's wrong with that?
Cat: *You* don't eat the dark meat.
Me: I'm picky. It's in my handbook. But you - you eat giblets and liver and insects. Yech.
Cat: Uh, yeah, exactly why I want what you have.
Me: You will eat the dark meat or none at all. People food is supposed to be bad for you.
Cat: OK, that's ugly. I am going for your shoes now.
Me: Yeah. I saw that tooth mark in my gold sandals. Nice work. Is that how your teeth are falling out? And where are these teeth going? Do you swallow them?
Cat: I hardly noticed. Look. I can still be menacing. Hiss!
Me: Heh. Heh. Not with only two teeth on one side of your mouth. You look comical.
Cat: For that, I'll bite your leg.
Me: Ow! Why *have* you started that biting thing?
Cat: Uh, duh, see above, re. bored.
Me: Well Sophia and Val are going to be here next weekend. No biting them!
Cat: Are they the kids?
Me: Yes. And they are even smaller than Stella. You were good with Stella this time. Can we repeat that performance with the little ones?
Cat: Hey. They come after me. I am only defending myself from those two foot monsters.
Me: Yeah. Well. Watch out for Val. He's fearless and likes to ride dogs.
Cat: Tell him to keep his distance from me. Nobody is saddling me.
Me: He's just a baby. He doesn't know any better. I don't know where you got that hatred of kids.
Cat: Warn him about me or I will send out my own warning.
Cat: Right on.
Me: Gee, you're a surly one.
Cat: Like mother, like daughter.
Me: I don't subscribe to that "you're-my-child" pet craze. You are my cat.
Cat: Oh, but you have conversations with one.
Cat: That's why I like you.
Me: That's why I like you too.