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Samantha the cat

“One. Two. One. Two.”

“What are you doing?” I asked the little colourful cat strutting on my table.

“I’m practicing. One. Two. One. Two.” She began humming as she kicked her legs.

“Practicing what?” I tossed some fabric scraps into my wastebasket. Man, my studio gets messy fast.

“I’m practicing my Act,” she said, looking at me, “you know? The one I’m going to do as a surprise for Paige. I want to knock her socks off!”

“Oh,” I smiled, “okay, let’s see it.”

The cat began. She sashayed along the length of the table, picking up some speed as she neared the edge and then twirled and slid back to center stage, all the while humming what sounded like Mack The Knife. Then she hopped up and down a couple of times before attempting a front aerial and crashing down onto her head. I ran to her, picked her up, and asked if she was okay.

“You know you don’t have to try so hard,” I said, smoothing her tail, “just be yourself. Paige is going to love you no matter what.”

She looked at me a little sceptically, shrugged and then nodded. She hopped up with a smile.

“ Like, who can resist my irresistible charm? ”

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