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Miss Macey Mastermind

Chatting For Treats

By Marilyn GloverPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 9 min read
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Image-calico-cat by Aline Dassel from Pixabay

Hello and good day! My name is Miss Macey, and I am an eight-year-old, twelve-pound, fluffy calico feline. Yes, I am a cat! I have a crucial task ahead of me today so please, follow me quickly. It is almost noon, and my Mum will be ringing me soon. Her name is Margot, and we live in a cozy flat in Manhattan. Margot is 34 years old and has been in the states since she was thirteen. I adore her accent and have to say she is a very attentive mother. Let's go on now. I must get to the kitchen. Margot will be ringing me from work, roughly at noon as she does every day.

Before the call, I must explain the process. We had a communication board installed on the wall about six months ago, just above the kitchen counter. It has a screen like that of a television and a panel alongside a series of buttons. These buttons are large enough and spaced far enough apart so my paws may hit them quickly. Each button is a different color with a coordinating symbol, so Margot and I can communicate. This knowledge has taken some training, but I have gotten accustomed to the routine. Technology in 2022 has come a long way. Not only do Margot and I see each other on the tv screen and tap buttons to correspond, but each button, when hit, will light up the coordinating color on both screens. In addition, each button has a unique sound. So, we see each other and tap symbols with accompanying audio.

Here we go. Margot is ringing me now. I am hitting the green button, which turns on the monitor, and there she is. "Hello, love," says Margot. "Mummy misses you." I respond by hitting the pink heart; a pink heart pops up on the screen along with the words "I love you" in text form and audio. "I am going to be a little late today, Macey. I have a meeting at 4:00. Margot is a writer for the newspaper. She writes for the society section, and I understand that she has longer days on occasion. I am generally agreeable. I have this one task to tend to, and I better get to it because Margot tends to work steadily without taking much of a break, except for our daily chats. So, I am ready to begin.

Behind me, on the countertop, is the plastic bowl that feeds me my wet food. It is clean and ready for this evening. I slide my little bowl closer to the monitor and pick it up, keeping it clutched in my mouth so Margot can see. "Oh, my goodness, little girl," Margot exclaims. "It is too early for Kitty Surprise. You are just too much. Mummy will give you a little extra tonight. I promise."

Oh, no, no, no. I immediately drop my bowl. That is not what I want at all. I can see I need to explain in further detail.

"Bagels and coffee" in a sing-songy tone suddenly interrupt my mission. It is Bill, the senior editor for the paper. He is a nice fellow, a bit eccentric, but a pleasant man nonetheless. So, here he comes into Margot's office. "Thanks, Bill replies Margot. I have a salad today, but a bagel and some fresh coffee are just what I need."

"Oh, you are quite welcome. I know you don't leave the office much, and thought you might enjoy something from the new deli around the corner." Bill turns to the screen, sees me, and smiles. "Well, hello, Miss Macey. Who's the pretty girl? Well, you are, of course. Yes, you are. Yes, you are. Yes, you are!"

I hit the smiley face button, which is yellow, and the audio responded with the word "happy." As I said, I do like Bill. He is just over the top. Speaking of which, here comes the next piece, a routine Bill has adopted each time he joins our midday chats. He is starting his little dance now, yes, seriously! It is just a little two steps, but how funny it is to see a greying man in his mid-sixties singing and dancing. His skit usually lasts seconds, but Bill seems extra energetic today. Margot is laughing, and Bill is performing, but no one notices the wastebasket right behind Bill's left ankle. Oh dear, wait for it, wait for it... Down Bill goes, landing right on his bum. I cannot believe this! He jumps back up, all while laughing, and Margot's giggles have evolved into snorting. Her cheeks are on fire, matching her long brick red coils. As entertaining as this is, I have to finish my task. I must snap these two out of it!

I let out a considerable yowl, silencing the humans. "Oh dear, Macey, what is wrong?" asks Margot. I pick up my bowl a second time and head butt the screen. "No, no, sweet girl, no Kitty Surprise until later."

"What is Kitty Surprise?" asks Bill.

"That is Macey's wet food that she gets every night with her usual dry meal. "She loves it so much that she is showing me her bowl. Oh, dear, she wants some now!"

Good grief, no, no, no. Kitty Surprise was great at first, but day in and day out of the same old thing. I am tired. I can accept regular feedings of my dry food for the combo hairball remedy, and the urinary tract health formula keeps me fit as a fiddle. Yes, I do want wet food, but, please, no more of this surprise formula. I must give Margot more clues.

I am staring at the panel to our communication board, and it dawns on me that there is one button I have never tapped. The board is quite basic with only six options, but up until now, it has been satisfactory. There is green to turn on and off, pink for love, happy face for happy, ball for play, sad face for lonely, and the never used before orange for stress. I tap orange, and Margot gasps in disbelief. "What is wrong?" inquires Bill.

"I think Macey might be ill. She has never hit the stress button before. Oh, Bill, this is terrible. What should I do?"

"Well, let's wait a minute here. It looks like Macey is trying to tell us the problem."

I sure am. Here I go on to the next part of my master plan.

I am jumping down to the floor. The tv screen has my feeding area in view, and the trash can, where I am heading now. I am standing on my hind legs against the plastic receptacle, and with my weight, down goes one trash can. I hear Margot scream in the background, "Macey, leave that rubbish alone!" Sorry Mummy, but I have to make you understand my dilemma. I am inside the garbage bag, digging with trash spilling out all over the kitchen tile. Margot continues yelling, "Macey, you naughty girl. Leave the rubbish alone!"

Bill is trying to calm her down. "There must be a reason for Macey's behavior. Give her a minute."

Yes, Bill, I am almost done. But, Mummy, keep your knickers on. I have found what I need. Margot made baked chicken last night for dinner. She gave me a nibble, and I fell in love. I have the meat packaging now, in my mouth, and here I come.

I am back up on the kitchen counter again with the empty chicken packaging in my mouth. Two faces are staring at me in disbelief. Bill looks shocked, and Margot is wearing her angry mother's face. "Naughty girl today, Macey. What is the meaning of this?"

Bill's mood is a bit more relaxed. "What have you got there, Macey girl?" I bring the wrappers closer to the screen for closer investigation. "Hey, looks like you have some chicken packaging."

"She cannot eat the plastic, Bill," Margot responds. "Please drop that at once. That is Dirty and Yucky!" I drop the wrappers into my bowl, which is still sitting in front of the monitor, and push it forward just a bit. I look up at them both, letting out a soft, innocent meow. I lift one paw as I always do when I want something. Margot's scowl becomes a smile. Finally, she understands.

"Oh my goodness, Macey!" I cannot believe it. But, Bill, I know what Macey is trying to tell me!"

"Tell me. This situation is fascinating!"

"Last night, I made chicken for dinner." I gave Macey a little bit, and she kept purring and following me around for more. Today, she brought me her wet food bowl, which she never does. I thought she wanted some of the Kitty Surprise flavors I have been buying for some time now, but now that I think about it, she always had chicken before I switched flavors. She was so happy with the bite of chicken last night, and now she brings me the wrapper and puts it in her bowl."

"Ahh, exclaims Bill. It looks like Macey is a brilliant girl. "Does Macey want chicken?"

I immediately hit the happy face button and ran around in circles.

"Chicken, chicken, chicken," Bill sings.

I am so excited to hit the happy face button, followed by the pink heart and the ball buttons. Emotions are running high. Bill and I are excited, and Margot suddenly begins to cry. "I am so so sorry, little girl," she whines. "Mummy did not understand. I feel horrible now for getting upset with you."

I walk up to the screen, purring extra loud, and tap the pink heart several times. I do not particularly care for seeing Margot sad. She is a wonderful mother. I head butt the screen, attempting to comfort her.

"I will bring home a supply of Chicken Delicious tonight, I promise, my love."

Bill starts singing "Chicken Delicious" over and over along with, yes, some more dancing. Margot is laughing again, and I can tolerate awkward flapping and dance movements because I delivered my message successfully. Besides, I love it when Margot smiles. She is such a beautiful person.

So, I tap the smile button, run around in circles, and finish off with a nice slide across the floor on my back. Margot looks at her watch and chimes in one last time. "Macey, my break is over, but I love you, and later you will have your chicken, and perhaps we can play together with your toys." I hit the pink heart button, followed by the ball. Margot blows me a kiss and then taps off the screen.

Well, I am undoubtedly tired now after all of the fuss. I am going to retire to the sitting room until Margot gets home. There is a large window that I sit in every day, enjoying the view of marigolds and petunias outlining our walkway. It is a gorgeous day. The sun is shining brightly, and I see a group of older women walking briskly, getting some exercise on this fine afternoon. I can feel the sun bearing down on me through the windowpane, and I am becoming rather sleepy. Perhaps a nap is what I need. I can dream about the birds I am watching fly back and forth from the feeder to the bath. Oh, how I wish I could communicate with them, telling the feathered ones that I want to become friends and come outside to play. Oh, how delightful a playdate this could be, and so much fun, at least for me, anyway. Let's be honest. I am a cat, a mastermind of sorts, but all in all, still a cat.

Short Story
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About the Creator

Marilyn Glover

I am a top Medium writer, editor, and owner of the publication Third Eye Gypsy. Poetry and spirituality are my favorite genres, and I like writing about topics often left untouched. Follow me at: https://gmarilyn009.medium.com/

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