A Day with Baby

Just a cute little story, inspired by my cats.

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I stirred and stretched, lazily blinking awake. My tangled limbs had thrown the sheets halfway off the bed. Dora was curled up under the crook of my arm, her tail tucked under her chin, her whiskers tickling my cheek.

“O-o-a-a-ah” she purred, extending her forked tongue to lick the tip of my nose. “Baby time. Sleep now. Sleep.” Those cold eyes stared languidly into mine. A sliver of sun peeking through the curtains shone across her face, making the skin look golden, like her namesake. She didn’t blink even though the sun was beaming right into her-

Sunlight?

I flipped around in bed, immediately awake. Dora grunted. The clock was dead. But the noisemaker was still on, so there was still power. I traced my hand down the cord until I found the end. Unplugged.

“What.” I said.

“I kill machine.” Dora said, curling back into place. “Now baby time forever.”

“No, the clock isn’t what makes me leave! I have to work! Oh…” I hurried out of bed and towards the kitchen.

Dora followed, claws clicking when we reached linoleum. She stopped in front of my feet. “Baby time?”

I stepped over her. The oven clock read 9:43. “No baby time! Bad girl!” I considered the phone, but decided against it. David would want to hear it in person.

“Baby time!” She clawed gently up my leg, stretching to reach the knee. “When baby time?”

“Baby time later! I mean- you’ll get cuddles tonight.” I walked away, and she followed.

“Baby time always later!” Dora said, planting herself in front of the bathroom door. “Baby time now!”

I grabbed a mostly dry towel from the laundry. “You’ll have to wait. And for unplugging my alarm, you get no treat tonight. Now move!” I pushed her away from the bathroom door with my foot and held her there until I could slip inside and slam the door shut. Immediate scratching began.

“Evil! Evil!” Dora croaked. The shower drowned her out.

I brushed my teeth while shampooing. No time to shave – no one would notice if I skipped a day, right? When the blow dryer turned off, silence had returned to the apartment. I stepped out to see Dora sitting right beside the door, tongue out.

“Have fun licking bath water, you little freak.”

“Yum.” She said, unhurriedly entering the humid bathroom. There was a loud ‘thunk’ and a scrambling of claws as Dora fell into the bathtub. Always an impressive jump for her to make.

I dressed, grabbed my bag, and, after inspecting it for mold, took a plain bagel with me for the road. Untoasted and uncondimented. It would have to be fine, it was already 10:01. Our team meeting was at 10:00. I just had to hope it would still be going when I got to work, because Sarah was not getting away with not doing LEMS for another week.

“Help.” Dora said. “Help! Help?”

I scooped her up by the soft belly with one hand, setting her down outside the bath. Her legs were squirming before they touched the ground, and she drifted across the linoleum until she caught purchase on the hallway carpet, rocketing away.

When Dora heard the door unlock, she jumped off her perch to nose in front of my feet. “No go! I fear! I sad! I good! Never bad again!”

I picked her up and set her on top of the couch, so she couldn’t just dash into the hallway. “I’ll see you tonight.” I said, scratching Dora’s fronds. She shook her head and got down as quickly as she could, but I had already closed the door behind me.

“No! Alone forever!” She cried, giving the door a few scratches. Once she was sure I wouldn’t come back, she licked her eyes, then settled them greedily on a fly buzzing near the ceiling light. “H-n-n-gh.”

The dry bagel and broken AC made the drive miserable. Work was fine otherwise, once I got over the stress of being late. Everyone loved the excuse, and I was well rested from sleeping in. And Sarah somehow talked her way into slacking off for another week, the sly fox.

When I got home, the sun had set. The living room glowed bright orange from Dora’s warming lamp, where she sat in her perch by the window.

“Hi baby!” I said. “How are you?”

Dora blinked her right eye at me slowly, then the left. “No big light.”

“I know. My day was great, thanks. How was yours?”

“Baby time.”

“Yes, it’s baby time now. You were so brave to wait all day.”

She said nothing more. I petted her for a few minutes, from the frond at the crest of her head to the dull scales at the end of her tail. It was all pleasantly hot from the lamp.

Dora said, “No touch,” then rolled onto her back. A trap. After being patient for one belly rub, she playfully bit me and gripped my arm with the claws of all six legs.

“Ouch!” I had a pretty thick sweater on, but it still hurt a little.

“H-a-a-u-a” she growled from the back of her throat, licking my palm with her sandpaper tongue.

I asked: “Will you let me go?”

Dora blinked her right eye, then her left. “Baby time.”

“Right.” I idly rubbed her gums and cheeks. She pushed into my hand and sunk her claws a little deeper.

Screw it. There’s no way she even remembered the threat from this morning.

“Want a treat?”

“Treat.” Dora let go immediately, scampering to the kitchen counter. “Treat treat treat treat.”

I pushed her out of the way, then opened the cupboard.

“Treat!” She protested, getting right back in the way. “Give treat. Treat! You say!”

“Yeah, back off.” I fished a dried meat cube out of the bag.

“You say treat! You say!”

No sooner had I held it out in my palm than Dora’s teeth clamped shut millimeters from my skin. She swallowed the whole thing without chewing. After licking her lips, she looked up at me with her big pitiful eyes. “Treat?”

Later that night, while I was lying in bed, she flopped across my chest.

I said: “I love you, Road to El Dorado. You’re my baby. But no more unplugging my alarm clock, alright?”

“Baby time. Sleep now. Sleep.” She purred.

“Baby time.” I agreed, then turned off the light.