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   Lee Petersen (leepetersen@alaskan.social)'s status on Friday, 26-Jul-2024 03:36:15 JST Lee Petersen

   Rocks on ice pedestals on the Castner Glacier, with the O'Brien Icefall visible in the background. The rocks insulate the ice beneath them, causing the surrounding ice to melt faster.

   My hiking guide to the area: https://www.lwpetersen.com/alaska-guide/castner-glacier-hiking-guide/

   #Alaska #hiking #glacier

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   RS, Author, Novelist (sfwrtr@eldritch.cafe)'s status on Tuesday, 06-Feb-2024 15:07:33 JST RS, Author, Novelist

   in reply to

   #Writever 2401.2 — Whiskers

   How many years was it since I adopted this family of two-legged monsters? I'd trained them well to feed me on demand and provide me a warm bed and reliably clean litter. In return, I kept their house free of cockroaches and sometimes left a fresh bird on their doorstep.

   It took me all this time to figure out the sounds they'd been babbling at me were actually a name! My mother had named me Flash Claws because no kitten was faster.

   My monster family had named me, "Whiskers."

   How much more demeaning could it be to be named for a body part that every cat had in common? Not much.

   I. Was. Soooo. INSULTED.

   I immediately took it out on the roll of paper the two-legs mounted for me to get my frustrations out, but the folds of white did nothing to ease my frustration. I walked by my scratching post and took it out on the sofa instead, but that wasn't enough.

   Whiskers? REALLY?

   The female monster with her kittens left the house, and I thought maybe I'd give her a scratch. I rushed out the cat door. I stopped quickly when she dropped her set of metal door openers. I snatched the keys and jumped back through the cat door.

   The thumping on the door was gratifying, but then there was the male, who'd probably come up with the ridiculous name because he was just that stupid. He often sprawled on the sofa—the one I'd just scratched my frustration out on—containers of smelly liquid sometimes foaming all over him, watching his flicker box and farting when nobody was looking, right in front of me where I could smell it. Like an old dog. Many were the times he'd not let me sleep on his stomach. So uncouth.

   I loped into the room with the bed and the clothes, selecting a nice white shirt. I dragged it to my litter box.

   I peed on it, before trying to bury it.

   Whiskers, though? REALLY?

   [Author retains copyright (c)2024 RS.]

   #BoostingIsSharing and #CommentingIsCool

   #fiction #fantasy #writing #writer #writers #author #writingcommunity #writersOfMastodon #cat #cats #catadon #Caturday #funny #humor #comedy
   #RSdiscussion
   #RSstory
   #microfiction #flashfiction #tootfic #smallstory