Whitey's Afflictions

Howdy there. I’m Whitey and I’m quite a handsome fellow; I live on a fair sized lot that I keep under control; I’m basically the ranch foreman around here, only this ain’t no ranch. I guess you could say that I’m a wee bit small for my age, but I’m plenty smart and that more’n makes up for my size. Plus, I’m quite the handsome fellow—all the gals ‘round here tell me so. I’m real fluffy, with dandy long white hair. I’ve got a few orange rings here and there, too. On my face I’ve got some black freckles that really add to my character. Or do they give me character? Or are they characters? I really can’t remember what my mama told me.

I guess you could call me a cat. Most people do. Personally, I don’t see why I’m not a… what was it? Oh, er, … a people, and those people cats. But I guess I must be a cat; the people call ol’ Bibby a cat, too, and I’m right sure he’d correct ‘em if they were wrong. I don’t much care for Bibby—have you met him? Hm, no, if you don’t know for sure I reckon that means you haven’t. You’d know it if you met him. Walk around the house here, look in the windows. He’ll be lookin’ out shortly, if he ain’t lookin’ out now. The jerk is always lookin’ out the windows, hollerin’ and bawlin’, wantin’ out here to talk with me. I don’t much like him, you know.

Yesterday was such a beautiful, beautiful day! Rain was pourin’—the weather was chilly and the day totally unproductive. That meant Mister Bibby had to keep his sissy-self in the house! All day long, the miserable little twerp sat on Meg’s desk starin’ out at me. What a pity Miss Cassie wasn’t ‘round—she and I would’ve romped through the flowers and Bibby could’ve seen what fun the rain is! He thinks it’s a terrible leak; about a year ago he tried to bribe some of my pals from down the street to “fix” it for him—Brock and Bret agreed and accepted payment; then we threw a great block party!

Don’t think us rude, though; that would be Bibby! Henry, our uncle (long story—but just know I ain’t related to Bibby!) just loves to come outside and visit each rose bush, sniffin’ the colorful, sweet-smellin’ blooms. Bibby always runs up and pushes Henry, sayin’ “Get out of my way—you’re more ginger than white now, Henry! Better get bleached!” You see, back in his heyday, Henry boasted dazzlin’ white fur, but he’s gettin’ just a little orange now. I really don’t see why Bibby thinks he has the right to talk ‘bout anyone else’s appearance: He looks like they must’ve ran outta fabric when they were puttin’ him together—he has black and brown stripes running ‘long side grey spots and orange zags, with everything piled on speckled coal colored fur! Anyway, that ain’t all Bibby does, you know. My older brother, Fluffy, is always gettin’ his feelings hurt by that quilted little upstart! Bibby’s got such a bad mouth… why, my mama raised me better than that! But the days go by, and sometimes I can’t resist gettin’ back at Bibby for his tricks—nothin’ big, just little things, here and there.

I guess you can see that today ain’t quite as great as yesterday: the sun is shinin’ brightly, dryin’ out the little mud puddles and the flowers are starting to droop a bit, not to mention—if you take a gander at that window there you can see that the upstart is sitting on the screened porch, glarin’ out at me. Ha! He wants to be out here so much… I think I’ll just do a little dance to show him how great I am! “Tata, lala, tala”… I am so good; shake a little here, a little more there, fluffin’ my tail as I promenade past, “and tata, lala, ta—Youch! Ow! My fur, ow! Oh my ear! Stop, what’s goin’ on? Oooouch! Stop! Stop! Help me!! Help me! Heeeeelllllp!! Heeeeey, where’d you go? Help!”

Something’s got me! I’m caught—trapped! I knew I shouldn’t have called that little pup from down the block a mangy mongrel! He trotted home and tattled—now they’re gettin’ back at me! When will I learn to keep my trap shut?

“Tkagn knda kghgk! Tkagn knda kghgk!” Bibby’s talkin’, but I can’t make out the words. Here’s my chance to get help. As I was sayin’, Bibby has his faults but I just adore him!

“Run Bibby! Go, get someone! Get help! Get away before it gets you, too! Go, go! Hurry, don’t let it get you!” I’m screaming, tryin’ to make sure Bibby gets away. Whenever this gets done with me, that screen door won’t stop it from gettin’ to Bibby! “Oh, I hurt, I hurt! Stop!”

“That’ll teach you! That’ll teach you!” Bibby’s voice is gettin’ clearer! What? He’s my attacker? I was tryin’ to help him get away!

I hear the front door openin’ and Meghann startin’ to yell, “Mom! Bibby! Mom, Bibby’s got Whitey! Moooom!”

“Oh, come on you imbecile! Get this twerp off me!” You gotta holler at her, she’s pretty near plant life intelligence.

“That’ll teach you! That’ll teach you! That’ll teach you to antagonize me!” Bibby is still squawkin’ at me, but he’s run out of fightin’ fuel, and I’m not hurtin’ so much anymore.

“Oh, shut up! Do you want me to tell Cassie about Brock and Bret makin’ such a fool of you?”

“Bibby, stop that!” Meghann has Bibby by the scruff, tryin’ to pull him up. Yeah, that’s really great, now that he isn’t hurtin’ me anymore. He’s still bitin’, but not hard—he just wants me to think he’s all that. “Leave Whitey alone, Bibby! You’re going to get a spanking!”

“No, no! You wouldn’t tell her that, would you? I didn’t mean it, Whitey—I didn’t mean to rip your fur out! Honest, I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did. You got mad ‘cause my strut is better’n your strut.”

“It isn’t! It isn’t, Whitey!”

“Fine. CASSIE! CASSIE! CASS—”

“Ok, yes—I was just jealous, I meant to get you! Don’t tell Cassie! I’ll… I’ll do anything for you, Whitey. I will! I’ll even apologize to Fluffy for calling him fat!”

“Bye Bibby, see you later.”

“What? No, we’re negotiating here! You may not move; I’m sitting on you! Don’t try to con me, White—” Meghann is finally draggin’ Bibby into the house; he’s gettin’ an earful.

Ah, how I despise that little underling.

Anything, eh? This is gonna be fun!