River Visits Ugly Joan, the Cat Under the Porch

I am a restless sleeper.  While my parents and sister are snoozing, I get up and wander the house thinking deep thoughts about critical issues.  Sometimes I hear Ugly Joan, the cat who lives under the porch, moving around her lair. I go over to the grate to give her a friendly hello, and she meows back.  It is good to be kind. 

One night I could smell the delicious scent of chicken wafting up from her space.  I asked her if she could slip me a piece through the grate. She said it would be better if I had it fresh out of the oven.  I agreed but could not reach the doorknob to get outside, the first step in what I thought was the only way to access the crawl space  “Take the slide,” Ugly Joan suggested. 

I told her I was unaware there was a slide.  She said it was on the other side of the house and led to the HVAC unit.  I figured out she meant the duct. “Sometimes I climb it to spy on you,” she said.  I knew that the cat was up to something nefarious.

I went over to the grate and slipped it aside.  I looked down into the duct. All I saw was darkness.   I was very nervous but didn’t want the kitty to think I was a pussy.  I held my nose and jumped down the shaft, shifted my weight to the right, so I didn’t end up in the furnace, and landed butt first on the cold cement floor.

Purple curtains separated the porch from the crawl space.  I carefully walked towards them, being sure not to step on the hundreds of items my parents had disposed of under the house.  I knocked on the wall to warn Ugly Joan I was there. She opened the curtain with a flourish.

I was stunned.  The room was beautiful.  There were three large beds draped with lush deep red comforters.  Next to that was a dry sauna that looked incredibly relaxing. There were a dozen cat trees with plush platforms to rest upon.  Besides, it was the skeleton of T-Rex built out of mouse bones. The refrigerator was stocked with rat meat, skinned salmon, chicken, and wild turkey meat.  

There was a beautiful portrait of Ugly Joan over the bed and across from her a small screen television my parents had thrown out the year before. In her quaint space, it looked like a movie theater screen.

The cat invited me onto the bed, and she shared some smoked salmon skewers with me.  They were delightful. She poured me champagne, and then we shared catnip cigarettes. Those things knocked me right out.  I woke up to hear footsteps above me and my Mommy calling my name. Oh boy, this cat had taken advantage of me! She had lured me into her bed, and then catnip ruffied me.  I ran up the duct, but it was hard to get traction. I kept whining. My pathetic cries alerted my parents where I was. 

My mom lifted the grate reached down.  She was able to pull me out of the duct.  I was covered with dust. She gave me a long hug and then a short bath.  Mommy told Daddy he had to do a better job of securing the grate. She had no idea that I had gone down the duct intentionally, and I wasn’t going to tell her.  

I was thrilled to be back on the main floor with my parents, but I am also wondering about going back down to our southern border.  I hear there is going to be a party this weekend. 
I could really use the catnip.