My cats keep making cameo appearances in my fiction. They have fake names, of course, being far too discreet to appear in my naughty stories under their usual monikers, much less their ineffable True Names.
Afterward, as they lay together side by side, holding hands, Ursula came silently to the door. A plump, timid cat, she had fled at the sound of Peter’s knock, and kept herself out of sight. Now that all was quiet, she stepped into the room, scenting the air, and then leaped lightly onto the bed.
“Salut, minette,” said Peter softly. “What pretty big blue eyes you have. Just like my Cynthia.”
“Her name is Ursula, and she’s shy, but if you hold still, she’ll be okay.” Ursula walked delicately across the bed until she reached a wet spot on the sheets, then stopped to inhale the scent, opening her mouth and drawing back her lips.
“Ah,” said Peter. “Pheromones.”
“Mmm,” agreed Cynthia. “No female can resist you.”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you, but this spot definitely originates from you,” he said, trying to keep from laughing as she jabbed him in the ribs. Ursula sniffed his hand, and allowed him to scratch her head lightly, then, satisfied, jumped down from the bed, leisurely stretched a back leg, and sauntered off.
“Ursula” aka “The Little Bear” is a sweet girl who came to us after two years in a cage at the shelter. She’s just now beginning to come out of her shell…
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- The Feline Political Classic…. (catsconfidential.wordpress.com)