I grew up in Alaska, and sometimes it was just too cold and dark to play outside. So my sister and I would play games, watch TV, and eventually get bored. Then we would attack the cats. The poor, poor cats. They would be dressed up in our old baby clothes. We tried to train them, but they were resistant One when I was about eight time they were our special guests on our radio show.
I had a tape recorder; it was pink with those black oil stickers that changed color when you touch them, remember those? The cat, Pooder (my sister named her) was dressed in a lovely white baby dress with blue flowers and lace trim. I held Pooder and my sister, Brandy, asked her questions:
Miss Kitty, how are you today?
Oh good. Tell us about your new movie.
Merow, Meow, grrr
That sounds wonderful!
And the questions went on. But you see, cats don’t just speak on command, and Brandy and I weren’t patient children, and we needed Pooder to speak, so we squeezed her.
When you squeeze a cat, they will meow because, well, honestly, they don’t like it.
So there we were for an hour or so asking very professional questions of a cat in a dress and squeezing her for answers. We had a great time and were grateful that my mom had the cats de-clawed, otherwise our radio show would have failed.
Now Brandy and I were very excited about our radio show and ran downstairs to play it for our parents.
Mom asked very calmly, “Alica, Brandy, how did you get the cat to meow?”
Me (very proud), “Oh we just squeezed her, and she meowed.”
I don’t think my parents have ever laughed so hard in their lives! Our radio show was a success! Brandy and were very proud and imagined a radio empire!
Unfortunately it was our last show, as my parents, once they caught their breath, banned us from ever doing it again.
And that was the end of our radio career. This just meant Brandy and I had to come up with new things to do with the cats. The poor, poor cats.
Did you traumatize nay pets when you were little?