Marsbert
11-30-04, 09:12AM
Here's our last short story for Creative Writing. It's due in about an hour so I just wanted to post it here to see what you guys think. Wish me luck during workshop with the three insane boys in my group! :p :winkkiss:
A Cozy Catnip Cottage
Maggie Jameson couldn’t help herself, she loved cats. She loved their eyes, their meows, and the way they could take care of themselves. That’s why she had so many of them in the house she once shared with just her husband and kids. Now that the kids had moved out, and her husband had been put in the ground a long time ago, the cats were her family, all 15 of them.
Maggie sat on her back porch as usual, watching Mr. Bojangles and Tiffy sniff a very attractive bit of grass, when one of the numerous large, nasty dogs next door stood upon his hind legs and gawked at them.
“Go away!” she scolded the smiling puppy. He ignored her, as it was much more interesting to watch her babies. When Maxwell the orange tiger, who had been near the dog, scurried away to save his ear drums, the irritating pup began barking relentlessly. Maggie waddled over, afraid he might jump the barricade, and bopped the big pup on his nose. The fence reverberated when he launched off of it to get away from her, whining and yelping.
“Hey!” Her younger neighbor, Rufus Major, yelled as she saw him charging at her. His neck and face were turning the shade of a fire hydrant. “Lady, how many time have I told you my dogs ain’t hurting your stupid cats!”
“Don’t you take that tone with me, he wouldn’t leave us alone.”
“He wouldn’t ‘a done nothing, he can’t get over the fence you stupid wench.”
“There’s no need for name calling Mr. Major.” Maggie huffed and spun on her heel. When she returned to the porch, the Siamese Janice purred against her shin. She scooped up the small feline and brought her inside to the kitchen counter. Soon Mopsy and her sister Flopsy had appeared near Janice on the counter, all very interested in the slices of ham that Maggie was making a sandwich with. “It’s not like he needs to have so many of those dirty things.” She said to them, “They’re all so loud and obnoxious.”
After a few minutes of enjoying her sandwich back on the porch, she realized her lap was still bare. “Baby?” she looked around. Baby would always pop up onto her lap when she had a sandwich on the porch. Maggie scanned the backyard, but didn’t see her little “mini cow”. She went inside and called Baby’s name, checked all the rooms, got down on her knees to peek under the bed, but she didn’t see Baby anywhere.
She went back to the porch, wringing her hands. She looked out into the backyard once again, hoping Baby might have turned up, but she was disappointed yet again. Maggie glanced over at Rufus’ yard, then quickly shied away. She took a deep gulp of her pride, then stomped back to the fence where she had seen him earlier.
“Rufus!” she called, trying not to sound too upset.
Rufus was on the opposite side of his yard, weeding his small, fenced in garden while his dogs paraded outside it. He glanced over his shoulder at her, then looked away to ignore her some more.
“Rufus have you seen my Baby?” she called again.
“I don’t know who, or what, you’re talking about.” He yelled back without stopping from weeding.
“She’s black and white, looks like a mini cow!”
“No, I haven’t seen your damn cat!”
She sighed loudly and returned to her porch. This isn’t a big deal, she thought, Baby’s probably just exploring somewhere. Maybe she found a nice mouse or baby bird to play with. She’ll be back before nightfall.
When the clock next to Maggie’s bed flipped to 1 AM, she started crying. Baby had never been gone this long before. She leaned against the headboard of her oversized bed and tried to slow the tears. Midge and Rover were sleeping on her husband’s empty pillow, curled together in a fluffy lump. Casey, Dasher, and Buddy, the three calicos, were spread out at the end of her bed where her feet never quite reached. She got up and put on her bathrobe, then made her way to the kitchen in the dark. Zippy, the overweight tabby, was a blob in the sink that winked at her when she flipped the kitchen light on. “Sorry hun.” She smiled weakly, her eyes red and puffy, “have you seen Baby anywhere?” as if the cat could reply.
She made one more hopeful, yet ill fated sweep around the house. All she found was Flopsy and Cotton-Tail snuggled side by side on the overstuffed couch sans Mopsy. “Where’s your sister, you two?” she asked, but neither Flopsy nor Cotton-Tail even batted an eye.
The next morning, Maggie tried her best not to think about Baby. She went out to her flowerbed and started to yank out the scarce weeds. Boris came over and watched fixedly, but she lost his interest to the colorful butterfly that Greta was chasing. The two distracted Maggie from her worries when they started fighting over who got to play with the flying bug. She remembered what time it was when Oscar came over and gently clawed her leg.
“Time for breakfast isn’t it?” She smiled at the cat, then carefully pushed herself up from the ground.
“Maggie.” Rufus’ stern voice startled her. She jumped around nervously and saw him supported by the fence.
“Yes?” she tried to sound cheery, even though she knew he could see right through that.
“Two of my dogs didn’t come home last night. Have you seen them?”
She clapped the dirt off her hands, “No, Mr. Major, I’m sorry.”
He scoffed, “Well if you do, will you let me know?”
“Sure, and if you see Baby or Mopsy, will you let me know?”
He didn’t answer, just turned his back to her and walked towards his house. Now what’s the matter with him? She wondered. Did he already know that Mopsy had disappeared as well? She shook her head, that’s silly, why would he want her cats? She looked down at Oscar, who was waiting for her to head inside and open the cans of food. But as he purred for her, she didn’t really see him. Her eyes glossed over and she felt her mind go blank just as if she had flipped off a light switch.
She went to work in the kitchen. With hopes that Baby and Mopsy would be lured by the smell of food, she watched as only 9 cats showed up to the 13 bowls she had set out. “Where’s Flo and Selena?” she asked the hungry mass of furry backs and tails. She checked twice, but Flo’s orange tabby and Selena’s pure black backs weren’t there.
It was two nights later when Maggie was sitting up in bed again, worried about the now seven missing cats. In addition to Baby, Mopsy, Flo, and Selena, now Boris, Oscar, and Greta had gone missing as well. Rufus had come to the fence twice in the past two days, saying that a few more of his dogs had gone missing as well, but now Maggie wasn’t too sure she believed him. She couldn’t tell if any of his dogs were gone, it looked like the same number milling around when she looked at his back yard. She wasn’t too sure that he wouldn’t lie to her just to keep her from suspecting him.
The next morning, when Olivia and Andrew didn’t come for their breakfast, Maggie had had enough. She ripped the bulky metal pan from its hook and stormed out into her backyard in her bathrobe.
“Rufus! Rufus you come out here right now!” she yelled into his house from the fence.
He came out after a minute, then charged over to the fence waving his arms and ranting about something she couldn’t understand. He had a pooper scooper clutched in his hand, held like a rifle by his leg as he walked.
“Do you know how many of my dogs are missing?!?” He roared. She dug her toes into the dirt and clutched the fence with her free hand as he came closer. Before she could say anything or even think of anything to say, she saw his scooper rise from its place at his side and towards her head, as if in slow motion. At the same time her arm with the pan at the end of it came alive and aimed itself at Rufus’ own head with strength Maggie didn’t even know she had. The two of their weapons reached their respective destinations at the same time and a resounding crack reverberated through their yards and they both fell to the ground, limp, broken, and cold.
Across the street, the grey fluff ball that had once been named Andrew, sauntered over to an outstretched hand full of cat treats. The hand’s owner reached out and scooped the hissing feline into one of the metal cages in the back of the huge SPCA truck along with a crowd of howling and barking dogs. The woman shut the doors and walked around to the driver’s side as her partner went to the passenger side.
“I wonder why all these cats and dogs were around this one neighborhood?” Michael asked as he climbed into the truck next to Lacey.
She smirked, then turned on the van and drove away, “Probably just some breeding ground around here somewhere.”
In the back room at the city’s SPCA, every cage was either filled with a gloomy looking cat or a loudly barking dog. Their new name tags taped to the top of their cage, collars around their necks designating gender. Sure they had bowls of food and water, and would most definitely be adopted by wonderfully loving families with young kids and toys to play with, but who would they play with and control like they did with Maggie and Rufus?
A Cozy Catnip Cottage
Maggie Jameson couldn’t help herself, she loved cats. She loved their eyes, their meows, and the way they could take care of themselves. That’s why she had so many of them in the house she once shared with just her husband and kids. Now that the kids had moved out, and her husband had been put in the ground a long time ago, the cats were her family, all 15 of them.
Maggie sat on her back porch as usual, watching Mr. Bojangles and Tiffy sniff a very attractive bit of grass, when one of the numerous large, nasty dogs next door stood upon his hind legs and gawked at them.
“Go away!” she scolded the smiling puppy. He ignored her, as it was much more interesting to watch her babies. When Maxwell the orange tiger, who had been near the dog, scurried away to save his ear drums, the irritating pup began barking relentlessly. Maggie waddled over, afraid he might jump the barricade, and bopped the big pup on his nose. The fence reverberated when he launched off of it to get away from her, whining and yelping.
“Hey!” Her younger neighbor, Rufus Major, yelled as she saw him charging at her. His neck and face were turning the shade of a fire hydrant. “Lady, how many time have I told you my dogs ain’t hurting your stupid cats!”
“Don’t you take that tone with me, he wouldn’t leave us alone.”
“He wouldn’t ‘a done nothing, he can’t get over the fence you stupid wench.”
“There’s no need for name calling Mr. Major.” Maggie huffed and spun on her heel. When she returned to the porch, the Siamese Janice purred against her shin. She scooped up the small feline and brought her inside to the kitchen counter. Soon Mopsy and her sister Flopsy had appeared near Janice on the counter, all very interested in the slices of ham that Maggie was making a sandwich with. “It’s not like he needs to have so many of those dirty things.” She said to them, “They’re all so loud and obnoxious.”
After a few minutes of enjoying her sandwich back on the porch, she realized her lap was still bare. “Baby?” she looked around. Baby would always pop up onto her lap when she had a sandwich on the porch. Maggie scanned the backyard, but didn’t see her little “mini cow”. She went inside and called Baby’s name, checked all the rooms, got down on her knees to peek under the bed, but she didn’t see Baby anywhere.
She went back to the porch, wringing her hands. She looked out into the backyard once again, hoping Baby might have turned up, but she was disappointed yet again. Maggie glanced over at Rufus’ yard, then quickly shied away. She took a deep gulp of her pride, then stomped back to the fence where she had seen him earlier.
“Rufus!” she called, trying not to sound too upset.
Rufus was on the opposite side of his yard, weeding his small, fenced in garden while his dogs paraded outside it. He glanced over his shoulder at her, then looked away to ignore her some more.
“Rufus have you seen my Baby?” she called again.
“I don’t know who, or what, you’re talking about.” He yelled back without stopping from weeding.
“She’s black and white, looks like a mini cow!”
“No, I haven’t seen your damn cat!”
She sighed loudly and returned to her porch. This isn’t a big deal, she thought, Baby’s probably just exploring somewhere. Maybe she found a nice mouse or baby bird to play with. She’ll be back before nightfall.
When the clock next to Maggie’s bed flipped to 1 AM, she started crying. Baby had never been gone this long before. She leaned against the headboard of her oversized bed and tried to slow the tears. Midge and Rover were sleeping on her husband’s empty pillow, curled together in a fluffy lump. Casey, Dasher, and Buddy, the three calicos, were spread out at the end of her bed where her feet never quite reached. She got up and put on her bathrobe, then made her way to the kitchen in the dark. Zippy, the overweight tabby, was a blob in the sink that winked at her when she flipped the kitchen light on. “Sorry hun.” She smiled weakly, her eyes red and puffy, “have you seen Baby anywhere?” as if the cat could reply.
She made one more hopeful, yet ill fated sweep around the house. All she found was Flopsy and Cotton-Tail snuggled side by side on the overstuffed couch sans Mopsy. “Where’s your sister, you two?” she asked, but neither Flopsy nor Cotton-Tail even batted an eye.
The next morning, Maggie tried her best not to think about Baby. She went out to her flowerbed and started to yank out the scarce weeds. Boris came over and watched fixedly, but she lost his interest to the colorful butterfly that Greta was chasing. The two distracted Maggie from her worries when they started fighting over who got to play with the flying bug. She remembered what time it was when Oscar came over and gently clawed her leg.
“Time for breakfast isn’t it?” She smiled at the cat, then carefully pushed herself up from the ground.
“Maggie.” Rufus’ stern voice startled her. She jumped around nervously and saw him supported by the fence.
“Yes?” she tried to sound cheery, even though she knew he could see right through that.
“Two of my dogs didn’t come home last night. Have you seen them?”
She clapped the dirt off her hands, “No, Mr. Major, I’m sorry.”
He scoffed, “Well if you do, will you let me know?”
“Sure, and if you see Baby or Mopsy, will you let me know?”
He didn’t answer, just turned his back to her and walked towards his house. Now what’s the matter with him? She wondered. Did he already know that Mopsy had disappeared as well? She shook her head, that’s silly, why would he want her cats? She looked down at Oscar, who was waiting for her to head inside and open the cans of food. But as he purred for her, she didn’t really see him. Her eyes glossed over and she felt her mind go blank just as if she had flipped off a light switch.
She went to work in the kitchen. With hopes that Baby and Mopsy would be lured by the smell of food, she watched as only 9 cats showed up to the 13 bowls she had set out. “Where’s Flo and Selena?” she asked the hungry mass of furry backs and tails. She checked twice, but Flo’s orange tabby and Selena’s pure black backs weren’t there.
It was two nights later when Maggie was sitting up in bed again, worried about the now seven missing cats. In addition to Baby, Mopsy, Flo, and Selena, now Boris, Oscar, and Greta had gone missing as well. Rufus had come to the fence twice in the past two days, saying that a few more of his dogs had gone missing as well, but now Maggie wasn’t too sure she believed him. She couldn’t tell if any of his dogs were gone, it looked like the same number milling around when she looked at his back yard. She wasn’t too sure that he wouldn’t lie to her just to keep her from suspecting him.
The next morning, when Olivia and Andrew didn’t come for their breakfast, Maggie had had enough. She ripped the bulky metal pan from its hook and stormed out into her backyard in her bathrobe.
“Rufus! Rufus you come out here right now!” she yelled into his house from the fence.
He came out after a minute, then charged over to the fence waving his arms and ranting about something she couldn’t understand. He had a pooper scooper clutched in his hand, held like a rifle by his leg as he walked.
“Do you know how many of my dogs are missing?!?” He roared. She dug her toes into the dirt and clutched the fence with her free hand as he came closer. Before she could say anything or even think of anything to say, she saw his scooper rise from its place at his side and towards her head, as if in slow motion. At the same time her arm with the pan at the end of it came alive and aimed itself at Rufus’ own head with strength Maggie didn’t even know she had. The two of their weapons reached their respective destinations at the same time and a resounding crack reverberated through their yards and they both fell to the ground, limp, broken, and cold.
Across the street, the grey fluff ball that had once been named Andrew, sauntered over to an outstretched hand full of cat treats. The hand’s owner reached out and scooped the hissing feline into one of the metal cages in the back of the huge SPCA truck along with a crowd of howling and barking dogs. The woman shut the doors and walked around to the driver’s side as her partner went to the passenger side.
“I wonder why all these cats and dogs were around this one neighborhood?” Michael asked as he climbed into the truck next to Lacey.
She smirked, then turned on the van and drove away, “Probably just some breeding ground around here somewhere.”
In the back room at the city’s SPCA, every cage was either filled with a gloomy looking cat or a loudly barking dog. Their new name tags taped to the top of their cage, collars around their necks designating gender. Sure they had bowls of food and water, and would most definitely be adopted by wonderfully loving families with young kids and toys to play with, but who would they play with and control like they did with Maggie and Rufus?