Damien and The Cat

A Fable about two mice that are run out of their home just before winter and find themselves with no other option than to face down a sly feline foe.

“What of the darkness”, Marci the tiny mouse cried. “We cannot pass in darkness, for the sly cat hunts.”

“The cat shall not be a problem,” Damien mouse proclaimed. “For, we shall outwit him.”

“But how?” She said as they moved along through the underbrush toward the house.

The both knew that if they did not find a way they would either freeze to death or starve for winter was coming fast and the rats had stolen their food and taken over their nest.  It was the house or nothing, and Damien had a plan.

“You shall see, my dear, Marci.” He said, “For cats are sly, but mice are clever.”

As they reached the cat door, which the old women who owned the house, would soon seal up for the within out popped the large head of a most ferocious looking feline.

“Hello, dinner.” Said the cat eyeballing Marci, she shuddered. “I wasn’t expecting delivery.”

“We are not your dinner, dear sir, but rather your new best friends,” Stated Damien.

The cat at first look rather taken aback and then began to laugh. For he wasn’t expecting this, you see you was used to the chasing mice as they ran screaming until he caught them. Then he might play with them for awhile, but he’d never talked to one before.

“Is this dinner theatre?” he ask bemused and could not suppress the grin that was spreading across his face.

“No, no, we want you to help us.” Damien said.

With this the cat began to roll with laughter. Mice asking help from a cat, this was the most entertaining thing he had ever heard. He needed to talk to his food more often, he thought.

“Why, would I help you?” He asked just to see if the mouse’s answer would be equally as entertaining.

“I thought you might ask that.” Damien said, “The answer is because I will help you get the three biggest rats you have ever laid eyes on.”

The cat’s eye widened, his stomach growled, and saliva dripped from the right corner of his mouth. Fat rats were better than mice any day and they put up more of a fight.

“And what is it that I’m going to help you with, if you can deliver these rats?” The cat asked.

“Simple, my feline friend, you help us out with a place to stay for the winter.” Damien answered.

Once again the cat was at a loss for words. Then an idea came to him. He could get the rats today offer these mice a place to stay and heck he might even let them stay awhile, the one doing the talking was rather amusing, and them for dinner another night. They could be a midwinter snack something to change the pace when he got sick of the dry cat food the missus served.

“Deal,” said the cat. “Now, where are they?”

Damien pointed to the barn.

“In there,” he said. “I shall take you right to them, but only after you let me get the lady situated.”

“Situated?” the cat asked.

“Yes, it’s cold and my friend here hasn’t had much to eat in days.” Damien said.

“Fine, come on in,” said the cat holding open the cat door.

Damien and Marci did just that, though Marci felt quite reluctant, but she knew Damien must be up to something.  The cat led them through the living room, where Damien noticed the gas fireplace, and into the kitchen. As the cat got up on the counter to get food for Marci, Damien formed the rest of his plan. He’d had one, both, but this one was better.

“You know there was a family of birds that just nested in the chimney.” Damien said.

The cat stopped right where he was. He liked birds; the rats could wait until later.

“Really,” said the cat. “I like birds even more than rats. I think I’ll have one of them now and you can show me those rats, tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Damien said matter-of-factly. “I saw the taking straw for a nest up there on our way over here. They’re right in there.”

Damien pointed to the fireplace. That was when Marci caught his plan and the cat dashed for the fireplace forgetting all about the food for the mice and the danger of the gas fireplace. He scurried over the gas logs and began to climb putting all he had into it. He could think of nothing but those juicy birds.

Damien dashed to the fireplace and scurried up to the mantle and found the matches and while the cat was climbing went down and turned on the gas. The struck the match and tossed it in.

Suddenly the cat felt heat rising up from beneath and knew he’s been deceived, his only chance was to climb out through the top of the chimney. But the heat was causing him to grow weaker and hit was getting harder to hold on. His claws slipped, he lost his grip, and that was the end of the cat.

Author's Note

Do your worst

Reviews

[Marie]

This is a good story and well written. But I am not a fan, because I like cats better tnan rats or mice.
I have three cats. No mice.

[Mark Best]

I had to write a fable for a class I'm in and this one just kind of happened.