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D.M. Krigsman has found himself somehow marooned in New Jersey and has to admit to himself that he doesn't mind it that much.
It was decided at the last and final meeting of the Feline and Canine Human Advisory Council. The minutes show that the decision was carried by the majority with only two dissenting votes, but since the Siamese always disagreed, they were customarily ignored. Most of their equals thought they had an attitude that bordered on unlikable, if not outright evil, so their opinion never counted for much.
The first to attempt contact was a stray Pekinese who walked down Broadway, during lunchtime, asking for directions to the Automat. That brief foray into conversation caused three humans to lose their lives due to heart attacks, two trampled by the crowd, and four headed straight to Bellevue to check themselves in. Finally a man informed the dog that it had been closed for years, and the two continued to have a conversation about the ever-changing state of eateries. Neither seemed happy with their contemporary choices.
The second attempt at contact was much less volatile. An elderly woman with very little interaction with other humans, was talking to her young Tom about the last episode of Kojak that she had just seen. Perhaps she wasn't as surprised by the talking cat as most people would be because she thought she was talking to her son-in-law. Young Tom explained that he was really more of a Starsky and Hutch man, but that Kojak did have its finer points.
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Soon contact was not limited by numbers that you could count on one paw. It was widespread, and once the panic of the first few utterances died down people were fascinated by talking to their companions. No longer did they have to guess at which food they preferred (it was the expensive brand), or how often they liked their litter changed (sorry for the work, but everyday keeps things nice and fresh). Canines, with very little resistance, demanded to go without their collars, and most masters agreed. It was hard to leash something you were just discussing the Mets latest downward spiral with.
For a while all things went smoothly and an animal rights bill was even voted on in Congress. Unfortunately there were small pockets of trouble that were threatening to grow bigger. A Saint Bernard in Poughkeepsie, who threatened to expose his master's philandering ways to his wife if he wasn't allowed to sit on the couch (especially during football games), was killed by an 'accidental' shotgun blast.
Around the country similar instances were taking place. The animals, powerful with knowledge of their masters, demanded to be heard. They wanted voting rights. They demanded to be served in restaurants. They wanted designer clothes.
Politicians, fearing the knowledge that their own animals had stored away about their administrations passed a bill that granted them subsidized designer clothing. As a special bonus, a sub-committee convened to discuss the feasibility of Canine and Feline shoes.
This is where things started to come apart for the animals. Humans (many of them without animal companions) demanded to know why four-legged furry creatures had an inalienable right to aluminum pantsuits and triple breasted silk jackets, but not them.
It wasn't soon after that the purges began. At first they were small and spontaneous and not more then three or four hundred were destroyed at once, but soon it began in earnest. After a short period of time the streets were coated in red, and there was enough excess fur just lying around to make quite a few jackets and stoles. A real seller that season was Labrador skin boots.
Somewhere, two Siamese sat and shared a pot of tea, feeling very smug.
The End
This story was first published on Monday, May 21st, 2018
Author Comments
I have been around cats my whole life. They are wonderful, loving and purring creatures. But everyone of them had a look. A look that said, "I'm paying attention to all of it. You have no secrets."
This short was created from that realization.
- D. M. Krigsman
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