Simba to the Rescue

This is no ordinary kitten. Oh, sure, she purrs when she's content. She cries when she's hungry. She looks cute like so many other feline friends, but I assure you, Simba is far from normal.

It all started when Simba was to be taken for her first trip to the veterinarian. My eight-year-old grandson, Xavier and I placed the groggy kitten in the cat carrier during her morning nap and then sat down to put on our shoes. What happened next defies the laws of nature. We first heard a low meowing noise, which rose in pitch and volume. Xavier and I looked at each other with wide eyes and then at the carrier. Suddenly, the door to the carrier burst open as our sweet, innocent cat melted the hinges with glowing, blue beams emanating from her eyes. Simba looked from Xavier to me and said, "I will not suffer the indignity of traveling in a cage. I will sit nicely in the back seat on the way to the doctor's office, thank you very much." With that, her eyes stopped glowing, and she sauntered to the door in anticipation of our departure.

Xavier shrieked, "Simba, how can you talk?"

I added, “How did you get laser eyes?”

Simba remarked, "Those are conversations for another time. Now, let's get this over with. I don't like getting shots, but the thought of rabies gives me the heebie jeebies." She again looked from Xavier to me, and demanded, "Now open the door or I'll burn it down." She proceeded to sit down and lick her paw as any cat would. We hastened to open the door.

We were too stunned to question Simba on the way to the vet. She remained calm, still, and quiet during the drive, during her examination, and even for her shots.

The vet smiled at Xavier, patted him on the head, and said, “You have a very healthy kitten.”

“Yeah,” Xavier boasted, “and she can talk.”

The vet continued cleaning the area and said, “Yes, they do tend to be vocal at this age.”

Xavier put his hand on his hip, as he does when he’s defiant, and said, “No, I mean with words and sentences.”

The vet chuckled and shook her head, “You have a vivid imagination.”

I stepped in, saying, “Yes, now Xavier, let’s get Simba home so she can rest.” Putting my hand on his back, I ushered him out the door. As soon as we were out of earshot, I mumbled, “…and Simba can explain what’s going on.”

On the way home, just as I was about to ask Simba about her powers, we got stopped in a huge traffic jam. “What now?” I moaned.

Simba pushed the button to lower a back window and leapt gracefully to the roof of the car. Shortly thereafter, she jumped back to the window ledge and said, “Be back soon.” Then, away she ran, in the direction of the jam.

Xavier rushed out the car door and ran after her, screaming, “Simba, come back!” Unconcerned about leaving my car unattended, I ran after him.

Up ahead were the lights of at least 20 emergency vehicles. Xavier stopped near a crowd of people gathered by yellow police tape. When I caught up, I asked a young lady with purple and blue hair, “What’s going on?”

She whirled around with eyebrows raised, and asked, “Haven’t you been listening to the radio? It’s on every station.” As I shook my head, she continued, “Some guy kidnapped a former senator’s daughter because daddy didn’t approve of him courting her.” I noticed helicopters circling above. The lady shook her head with a sorrowful expression, and then resumed her tale, “The police put a spike strip across the highway and caught up with him here. He’s threatening the usual, ‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’ He even has a gun.” She turned back to her device to get the latest.

By then, Xavier was halfway up a tree. He’s always been a great climber. I rushed over and called up to him, “Tell me what you see.”

He yelled down, “I see her! I see Simba! She’s getting close to all the police cars. I see the guy with the gun. Wait! His pants fell down. Simba made his pants fall down with her lasers. He dropped the gun and the girl ran away. The police are zapping the guy in the butt with a taser. Simba saved the day!”

Xavier scrambled down the tree just in time for Simba to come panting back to us. As Xavier picked her up, she whispered so that only we would hear, “All the running and power usage took a lot out of me.” She fell asleep right then in Xavier’s arms and slept all the way home.

We have yet to find out how Simba got her powers, but we gave her an extra name. We now call her, “Super Simba!”

*

This story was inspired by an idea by Xavier (pictured above,) who really is my grandson. The part of Super Simba was played by Junior Bagheera (also pictured above.) After all, “Super Junior Bagheera” doesn’t have a snappy ring to it, and "Super JB" isn't much better. No kittens were harmed in the making of this story. All kittens with superpowers are fictional and are not based on real kittens with superpowers.

"Simba to the Rescue" makes a great bedtime story because kids generally love pets, and anyone/anything with super powers. Another reason this story is great for bedtime is that anyone can make up continuing tales of Super Simba. If you read a child a bedtime story, be sure to ask, "What do you think will happen next?" Often, the answers are creative and/or entertaining.

The fact that this idea came from my autistic grandson is hopefully inspiring to those who work with people on the spectrum. Maybe Xavier will read this to his own children and grandchildren someday,