An Interview With My Cat
For the record: Caska Rose Schneider only agreed to be interviewed after negotiating 12 1/2 (crunchy, not moist) treats—the first to be distributed after no more than 3 minutes, the last after no more than 24 hours.
Me: Hi, Caska. I appreciate you taking a bit of time out of your busy schedule to join me. I hope this will be an open, honest, and intimate discussion.
Caska: I'm sitting on your lap aren't I?
Me: Yes, well, I'm sure it's not the first interview to be conducted in such a way.
Caska: *Washes dollop of fish stew from whisker. Seems unbothered by stench.
Me: Okay, let's just begin then shall we? First question, do you go by Caska or do you prefer a different name?
Caska: I go by Cassie mostly. Caska Rose when I'm in trouble, and I have myriad nicknames which I won't embarrass you with now seeing as you came up with them.
Me: Excellent. Very good. How often are you referred to as Caska Rose? Do you get into trouble often?
Caska: Not as often as I used to. I was a bit of a hell cat when I was a kitten. Munching on cords, shredding toilet paper, constantly batting the door stop just to hear it twang . . . I was usually egged on by my twin brother, Kakashi, though so I blame him.
Me: Yes, our Kashi. We lost him too soon to kidney disease. I miss him every day.
Caska: Me too.
Me: Okay, so tell me, what does purring feel like? Does it tickle?
Caska: It doesn't tickle so much as feel exactly like how a bee feels when it buzzes.
Me: That's not helpful.
Caska: No, for me either. Maybe I'm thinking about what it feels like when I swallow a bee and it goes buzzing down my throat.
Me: Oh my God. You've swallowed a bee?
Me: . . . All right, let's move on. How would you describe your perfect day?
Caska: Not today.
Me: Right . . . can you elaborate?
Caska: Well, my perfect day would go something like this: I wake up at 5am and get food without even having to ask. You wake up radiant, and happily feed me. You then lift me onto the bathroom counter and let me drink from the faucet for seventeen minutes. We then proceed to the other bathroom where I do the same again, but for 3 minutes. We then go back to bed, where you let me sleep on your face. At 10am, it's time for a second feeding and then some sunbathing on the patio. You expend 90 percent of your daily energy getting me to chase a twig. I chase it for a bit, expending 3 percent of my daily energy, before sitting back and watching you run madly about. THERE ARE NO INTERVIEWS. After a bit, I go inside and eat several plants. You make no effort to stop me and then you pet me while I throw up. Several naps follow, some of which, I'm burritoed in my favorite green blanket. Every time I wake up, you hand-feed me where I lay. Evening is the commencement of lap time and then it's time for bed where, again, I sleep on your face.
Me: That sounds thrilling. Now, I have one final question.
Caska: It's food time!
Me: What? No it's not. Not even close.
Caska: *Jumps off lap. Speed waddles to food cupboard. Bangs the door 27 times with a rapid-fire paw.