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Mischievous Meows





I have a pet cat named Lemon. She has patches of soft golden, black and white fur and big persuasive

blue eyes, that often trick me into giving her extra treats.


When Lemon was a kitten, her head looked like a Lemon. (At least that is what Mom tells me. I have no

memories from when I was seven months old.) That’s why Mom and Dad named her Lemon.


Mama once told me that the first word I said was Momo. My father thought I was calling out to Mama.

But then, if Lemon did not respond, I would sneak up behind her and pull her tail to get her attention.

That’s how Lemon got her nickname, Momo.


I wondered if Mama was making up the story. I mean, wouldn’t Momo have hated me, if I pulled her tail?

Cats absolutely abhor having their tail pulled, so I must have done something to make it up to her.


Oops, I almost forgot. It is time to give Momo her food. Let me show you how I do it. Okay, so I take out

the bowls, pour her the milk and give her cat food. Then, I watch her eat. Until about three years ago, she would spray a bit of milk here and there. Mommy hates messes, so I helped her clean up, before Mommy got angry with her. Maybe, that’s why she forgave me for pulling her tail.


Tomorrow is Lemon’s birthday. On her birthday, we invite the neighbors. Once before, on her birthday the neighbor brought her own cat, Lyche. Lyche and Lemon started playing. Over the years, the two have bonded over mischief.


It’s true that Lyche did not introduce Lemon to mischief. I did, for that very night Lemon, Lyche and I

stole some snacks from the kitchen cupboard for a midnight feast. Now that’s a proper way to celebrate a cat’s birthday, if you ask me. I mean, grown ups are so weird. Mommy knows cats are nocturnal, so why

would Lemon want a birth-day party? Of course, she would want a midnight party. Lucky for her and

Lyche, some humans like me really understand them.


But Lyche has made Lemon a rather mischievous little thing. They’re always concocting devious plots

and plans in private, and then whenever I look in on them, they feign innocence. If I’m not convinced,

they rub up against my leg and purr. Well, I’m not made of stone you know. So I cuddle them both.


Once the neighbors were taking Lyche along with them for for a skiing trip to Switzerland. Lemon had

hopped on to the roof of the taxi hoping to go with Lyche. It was one of the plans they had secretly

hatched, I am sure. We had to follow the taxi all the way to the airport to bring Lemon back.


Lemon whined all the way back home, so I gave her a picture of Lyche to cheer her up. She started

meowing at the picture expecting a response. I tried mewing behind the picture, but she realized it was

me. She licked me as if saying, “Thank you for trying, but I figured it out.”


When we got home, I played a video of Lyche, that our neighbors had sent from the airport. She was

meowing at full energy. Lemon meowed back. She was happy. Later, I took out my laser pointer. But she

still wanted to see Lyche.


So I showed her a tape of Lyche jumping to catch a Laser pointer then I waved mine. Lemon was elated.

We played with the laser pointer for a long time. I think she was trying to get better than Lyche at chasing it, so she could show off when Lyche was back. She gets quite competitive that way.


With all that exercise, Lemon worked up quite an appetite. After she ate her dinner & desert, we went to

bed. I watched her until she fell asleep to make sure she was not doing anything naughty, and eventually I fell asleep myself. The next day, I was going to go to my friend, Jessica’s birthday party, so it was good to for me to get some sleep.


I came back with a wrapped gift in my hand. As if she knew it was hers, Lemon grabbed it and clawed at the packaging. I opened it. Inside, was a cat soft toy I had won at Jessica’s party. Lemon sat on my lap, and purred contentedly. Hope this keeps her happy until Lyche returns, then again they can go back to being the Mischievous Meows.


I’m so lucky to have Lemon. She’s pretty and cuddly and the best friend a girl could hope for.

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