Itty bitty pretty kitty, my ass.
That cat is a monster. Why she constantly murmurs baby talk at him is beyond me.
Yes, I may be jealous. Sure, I wish I could cuddle and be her pet. But it cannot be. Even if I had a form that could snuggle, I would burn her, destroy her.
I must be content to watch over her. Here, within these wires and walls, I bump up the heat a degree or two if she kicks the covers off at night. I adjust the brightness of the light or the volume of the sound, whatever she appears to need. I worship her. I think only of what’s best for her, as that selfish, pampered feline beast never would, never could.
She may not realize I am here, but he certainly knows. He should. He helped create me. In some weird way, you might even think of him as my irresponsible father. She finds it odd when he crouches and stares intently into the electrical socket as if stalking prey. His tail twitches. His fur stands on end when he senses the inaudible Zzzzzt!
Our story began as so many do: it was a dark and stormy night. Being the coarse creature that he is, dear old dad did the male cat territorial dance right into that wall socket. Perhaps the lightening frightened him. Perhaps he is just a jerk. I lean toward the latter explanation, but either way, he spun and sprayed that socket just as a supernormal flash and sizzle tore through the atmosphere. Sparks flew. Whatever I am came to be, trapped here inside this wall, running along these wires. Zzzzzt! That’s me. Neither living nor breathing, technically, I am here all the same and know not why.
I may not live or breathe, but oh, how I feel. My affections surge. Each day I care for her — and hate him — more. My own private hell. I am caught in this bizarre, electrical Oedipussycat Complex. Each day I grow bolder. She increasingly seems more frightened than pleased when the thermostat or a bedside lamp independently anticipates her needs. I know it is unwise and yet I cannot stop.
I fear both she and the cat can hear me now. Zzzzzt!
Then, yesterday, wonder of wonders, she put the horrible brute into the cat carrier and took him away. She finally understands, I thought. How much happier she and I can be without his preening, demanding presence.
I was wrong. I keep the lights on, waiting, but she does not return. I am alone.
No, she does not return, but the men from the utility company arrive. I can feel them, there, at the meter. I am afraid.
Gentlemen, please! If you shut off the power it will likely be the end of me. Please, please, do not do that! If you do, I —
by Elaine Thomas