Foley and the Cat in the Hat

Happy Dr. Seuss day. This is one of my favorite days of the year because I have always thought of myself as a Dr. Seuss character. If he had met me, I would be a lot more famous than that stupid Who hearing Horton.  

This morning it was raining.  I heard a knock on my door and opened it to find my kitty brother Gizmo wearing a fedora on my front step.  I was wary of him. I came into the family right after he went to the Bridge. He still blames me for usurping his position in the family.

"Hello Foley, it is I the Cat in a Hat," Gizmo said confidently. 

"No, you're not you're a freak in a chapeau." I shot back. 

"Same difference," Gizmo remarked arrogantly. "Blake asked me to come by and check on you."  

I knew this was a lie.  While Blake and Gizmo had happily lived together on the mortal side, Gizmo was always full of mischief. Here at the Bridge, Blake worked hard to keep a clean house. When Gizmo visits, he rips up the furniture with his sharp claws and defecates in any kind of box he finds.  Blake was the only dog who Gizmo listened to, and that is why he was barred from the house unless she was home.

I told Gizmo he could wait on the lawn until Blake returned. Just then, my three younger angel siblings Copper, Jax, and Skye ran down the stairs. "The cat in the hat is here, the cat in the hat is here!" Skye yelled excitedly.

I told her it wasn't a cat in a hat, but just Uncle Gizmo under felt. But Sky and her siblings begged him to do the trick. I knew it was a mistake.  But I hate to say no to the kids. 

Gizmo dragged a small unicycle and an umbrella into the house and tracked mud on Blake's clean floor.  He began to ride it around the house while using the umbrella to balance a ball. Suddenly he stuck the umbrella under me and lifted me in the air. I had to balance on top of the umbrella while he unicycled the circumference of the parlor. 

I repeatedly yelled at Gizmo to put me down.  He kept making the stunt more difficult. He balanced me on an umbrella with one hand and a fishbowl on plates with the other and then began riding on the furniture. He was trying to jump from the sofa to the recliner when he misjudged the length, and we crashed on the floor. The fish tank and the plates smashed apart, creating a big wet mess on Blake's new rug. 

Gizmo told us not to worry and brought in a crate containing two little kittens he called Kitten One and Kitten Two.  He promised that they would clean the house, but they only added to the destruction. They ripped down curtains and tore open couch cushions.  They got into the kitchen and knocked all the spices off the top shelf. They worked a big hole in the rug and gleefully ran through it. I thought the carnage would never end.  That is when I saw Blake walking up the path.

While I was heartened to know Gizmo would be in trouble, I knew it was my fault for letting him in.  I ran outside and showed Blake some new shoots coming up in the garden. They were probably weeds, but I was desperate to distract her.  I looked inside and saw Gizmo riding what can only be described as an eight-armed Zamboni. He was cleaning and repairing everything in the house. I kept Blake outside long enough for the house to be returned to its original condition.  When Gizmo and the kitties left, we went inside. 

Blake walked into her sparkling clean house and saw her three siblings asleep on the sofa. "What have you children been up to today?" she asked. 


What would you say?