No. 565

Mittens, a cat in her eighth life, was falling from the tenth-floor patio of her owner’s apartment.

“I’ve got this,” she told herself, as the wind ruffled her ears and tail on the way down. “Done it a million times. Bend. Twist. Extend the legs.”

She landed heavily, and a brief evaluation confirmed that she was fine. She stretched casually before sauntering away, past a small crowd of horrified human witnesses.

“Like you’ve never seen a cat land on its feet before?” she asked them.

They heard only meowing, and continued to gawk and point.

“Fine,” said Mittens, muttering to herself. “Nobody gets a dead-bird present tonight.”

She went about her business as usual, prowling through the neighborhood, hassling dogs and children alike.

Right around midnight she came across a much larger cat. A lion, she recognized from the nature shows her owner watched. It was clearly lost, roaming around between back alleys, and trying to stay out of sight. She also saw the cheetah that was doing its best to hide in the shadows.

“Come here,” The lion ordered.

Mittens had nothing better to do, so she decided she would entertain the suggestion. But not all the way.

“What?” she said, as she slowly licked her paw.

She half-listened to their names, and some inane questions about where to find antelopes.

“Blah blah blah, hungry,” said the lion.

Mittens had an idea.

“I know a human who puts out food for strays,” she told them.

They agreed to go with her, and she led the pair of jungle cats back to her apartment building with every intention of having them eat the simpletons who had doubted her ability to fall properly.

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