A cat sat on a mat. Not a very comfortable one, but definitely better than the cold marble. Regardless, the sun would soon drift towards the garden, and it would shine right through the window and onto the cat. He was giddy with anticipation to feel the warmth on his fur. He puffed up and made himself more comfortable.
In the kitchen, the woman was busy scurrying around amidst the noisy clang of pots and pans and running water, and delicious smells were wafting through the house.
The little humans had been out of the house all morning, not that Cat missed them. Quite the contrary, he was enjoying the peaceful afternoon. Truth be told, they sometimes behaved like little monsters. He still remembered with embarrassment that time when he had failed to be quick enough and the little humans had caught him, and dressed him up in a ruffle horror and then proceeded to paint the Cat’s face with all sorts of strange colors… They could not be made to see the utter humiliation Cat was experiencing, no. They were delighted. Cat even felt that they expected him to be just as entertained by the comedy. Well, Cat had most definitely not been amused! The minute he spotted an escape route, he scratched and meowed his way out of their grip and made for his life. He had been quietly planning his revenge ever since.
It had snowed the night before and now the little humans were outside in the cold, screaming in the front yard and running around, building snowmen. Their father was keeping a watchful eye on them, while moving snow around with a shovel.
Cat thought this was rather silly.
A new smell around the garage area had Cat troubled. It smelled like something wet, like a moist rag. If Cat didn’t know any better, he’d almost think it smelled like dog.
It was the day before Christmas.