Rite of Passage

by Russell Aaronson

I was awoken last night ’round midnight to my kitten, Ms. Mittens, scurrying around the room, disrupting papers and such; I thought it strange that she didn’t visit me in bed as she usually does after coming in from the roof, so after about fifteen minutes of the constant scurrying, I turned on the light and found her playing with, what I thought was, her toy mouse, in a way that she had never played with it before … then, to my astonishment, the toy mouse got lose from her grasp and ran across the floor; it didn’t get very far at all as Mitts was efficiently atop the prey once again. So what’s a master to do? I just sat back and watched her victory for a while, then when I tried to rescue the mouse (not knowing what to do if I was able to somehow catch the mouse in a towel), Mitts took the prey back into her mouth and ran out of the room and back out onto the roof. All I could do now was to close the door of the room, turn off the lights, and go back to bed, allowing Ms. Mittens her fifteen minutes of fame and glory. This morning, the once kitten has a new sense of herself: she is The Hunter coming back from the game; now she has matured into a full grown cat … only thing is, though … there’s no sign of the mouse now … yikes!

To submit your stories of life on West 68th street, write to west68th@gmail.com.


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