A Conversation Between James and the Kitten Laying on his Car's Tire

Me: Excuse me. You seem to be sleeping on the top of my tire. You’re going to have to get off.

Kitten: Meow.

Me: No, Seriously. I have places to be. I can’t leave with you stretched out on the top of the wheel like that. Well, I could leave. But you most likely would end up being horribly hurt or even killed.

Kitten: Meow.

Me: Yes. I know. You are adorable. That’s why I don’t want to hurt you. Well, that’s one of the reasons I don’t want to hurt you. If you were to be crushed by this tire, your little bones could stick up and damage the tires. So, that’s another reason I don’t want to hurt you. And it’s a very good reason for you to get off of the tire.

Kitten: Meow.

Me: Now be reasonable. I know you are comfortable. I know you are adorable. That does not mean I want to play any games with you. I have places to go. You are stopping me from leaving – at your own peril, I might add. I suggest you simply scamper back to whatever place you might call home.

Kitten: Meow.

Me: I’m sorry, but I am not going to pick you up. I am allergic to you. If I pick you up, I am going to be left with little tabby hairs all over my arms and clothes which are going to do nothing but make me sneeze and itch all day. Oh, now come on; don’t look at me like that. I can’t help it if I’m allergic. Would you please just get off my tire, and go home?

Kitten: Meow.

Me: I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were a stray. I didn’t know home would be such a touchy subject for you. I wish there was something I could do.

Kitten: Meow.

Me: No. No. Completely out of the question. I can’t adopt you.

Kitten: Meow.

Me: Because I’m allergic. I thought I went over this already. If you moved into my apartment I would be miserable all the time. I wouldn’t be able to breathe…Now, please. I’m not trying to be mean. Stop looking at me like that.

Kitten: Meow.

Me: No, I don’t know what it’s like out here on the streets. But I simply can’t adopt you. It would never work. I’m hardly ever home. Who would feed you? Plus, whenever I would be home, I’d feel physically awful. Now, please. Can we just talk about this later? For now, can you just please get off the top of my tire…Thank you. See was that so hard…Wait. Where do you think you’re going? You can’t go out under the car. You’re right next to the tire. You’re practically under it. This is probably even more dangerous than being on top. At least if you are on top you have a chance to scamper off if I start slowly. Where you are now, if I move one inch, you’ll be crushed.

Kitten: Meow.

Me: I do not believe you’ve studied the writings of Thoreau and the lives of Martin Luther King Jr., and Gandhi. This is ridiculous. What exactly are you trying to prove?

Kitten: Meow.

Me: I’m just one man trying to get to work on time. This is hardly the time or place for such grand gestures. For now, I just really want you to get away from the car, so I can go to work with out the guilt of killing an adorable kitten to get here.

Kitten: Meow.

Me: I am not going to pull a Tiananmen. But I do need to get to work. I’ve got bills to pay. Something you would not understand because you’re a kitten.

Kitten: Meow.

Me: You know what, fine. If you want to play hardball, I’ll play hardball. You see these. These are the keys to the car. Look at me. I’m opening the door. I’m putting the key in the ignition. I’m turning the engine on. Do you here that? That’s six cylinders of pure 100% American made kitten killing goodness. There goes the parking brake. I’m putting it in gear. I’ll just let it roll a little forward. Ha. There you go. Bound up to the sidewalk, you yellow piece of trash. No kitten’s going to try and call my bluff. Looks like I won this battle of wits. That’s right. James: 1. Kitten: Nada.

Kitten (from sidewalk): Meow.

Me (driving away): You too buddy. You too.

Shalom