Cruisin'

*Inspired by an idea from Xavier "Booger" White (9).

 The door to the darkened bonus room opens and Writer Lady enters turning on the light. “Dobby kitty! Mommy's home!” As her eyes adjust she sees Dobby sitting on the entry's step, tail thumping.

“You're late!”

“Oh...” Writer Lady says raising her hand to her chest. “Dobby, you scared me.” She looks down at her phone. “I'm not that late. It's not even 5:30.”

“Saturday night!” Dobby says sarcastically.

“You are being redundant. Cats + sarcasm = repetitive. One or the other not both. Since you're already a cat guess what that means.”

“Where were you this time?” Dobby demands.

“The farm.”

“What took you so long? You left the farm twenty minutes ago. It only takes 14.5 minutes to get here. What were you doing for those other 5.5 minutes?” Dobby asks.

“First of all how did you know that? TP hid in my coat pocket again didn't he? Second, 5.5 minutes? You want me to account for 5.5 minutes?” Writer Lady asks insulted by this invasion of her privacy.

Dobby silently glares.

“I was driving around the... (she mutters)”

“I'm sorry, not even my super feline hearing could make that out.”

“I was cruising around the square.” Writer Lady says.

Dobby just stares.

“This is a small town. The square was there. I was there. It is Saturday night. You cruise around the square...you know to see and be seen.” Writer Lady says.

“So...um what's happening up on the square this January Saturday evening when it's 15 degrees out. Whom did you see? Who saw you?”

“Pardon?” Writer Lady asks.

“Who saw you cruise around all cool and confident in your salt encrusted ride?”

“It is January and awfully cold out. So the people I cut off because I was cruising.” Writer Lady answers.

“And...?”

“Oh yeah. The squirrels. The family of squirrels that live in the trees next to the courthouse saw me. They waved and gave me a thumbs up.”

“A thumbs up from the squirrels. That just makes it all worthwhile now doesn't it?” Dobby says rolling his eyes.

“Stop and think about what you're say-ing.” Writer Lady sings out. “Jealousy is never pretty,” she mutters under her breath and walks into the main house turning on lights, closing blinds, etc...

“I don' t think you understand what's important. ME!” Dobby says sitting on the blue chair in the living room. “You just run around day and night in your happy little world cruising around making friends with birds and squirrels. What do you think this is a Disney movie?”

Writer Lady quietly crosses to the cabinet where she keeps the TV remotes and pulls out her secret weapon. A laser pointer.

“I am a Very Important Feline, endorsed by the Gem of the Con herself.” Dobby continues his offensive.

Writer Lady points the laser to the wall in Dobby's field of vision. Flashing it off an on a couple of times. Dobby sees it and stops to pay attention. The light turns off.

“You need to get your act together and start giving my fame your full attention.” Dobby says.

The laser comes back on, sweeping across the floor and on to the wall. Dobby stops talking and devotes his full attention to the red light. Tensing, he wiggles his butt ready to pounce.

Writer Lady turns off the light.

“You really have become a bit distracted lately Mom. You need to Focus. Fo-cus.”

Writer Lady turns the light back on, whisking the laser back into his sights. This time Dobby's instincts take over, he follows the light across the floor, up the wall, down the length of the room, up another wall.

“I'm sorry kitty I missed that last part. What did you say?”

Dobby out of breath, is a panting heap in the middle of the living room floor. “Fo-cus!” the ginger tabby exclaims just as he falls into a deep and dreamless sleep.