Simon (7:04)
It had been some time since the coffee pot downstairs had stopped its boisterous gurgling. Even if Augie hadn't had a perfectly accurate sense of time, the coffee pot would have given the hour away. Each morning it sprang to life unprompted at precisely the same moment. In the summer, it would be light outside. When that happened in the winter it was still dark. But the coffee pot had garnered Augie's grudging admiration because it did not depend upon such simple cues. When it was time to get up, it was time to get up. The coffee pot did not accept seasonal excuses. On most days, the humans were fairly reliable, fetching the finished coffee at the appointed time. However, every few days they stopped getting up on time and lolled about in bed for far too long, leaving their hot coffee to languish in the tall silver pot in the machine. On these mornings, Auggie felt miffed on behalf of the sturdy appliance. It seemed a bit rude, really, to ask the pot to make a brew but not fetch it on time. Worse yet, her breakfast was late on these days as well, and that was the true offence she thought to herself. She would attempt to move things along. Stealthily ascending the carpeted stairs, she pushed her way through the partially open door to the room that belonged to the big humans. It was neither summer nor winter, and due to the lateness of the hour, the sun was now streaming into the room with a gentle golden glow. The sash on one of the windows was cracked just a little bit open. It was not far enough for her to fit herself into the windowsill, she thought with regret. However, she stood on her sturdy legs and rested her paws there. Outside, the air was cold and crisp. Closing her eyes, she inhaled eagerly, her whiskers twitching. Her senses were flooded with contrasting scents. On the one hand, the air felt so fresh. The plant smells of summer were gone, leaving a clean void in the air. But in their place, she picked up on something else. A dry earthiness. She knew there would be more of that scent if she got out into the garden. Perhaps she would have her chance later. Tired of balancing on her short back legs, she sat down and turned to face the bed, where the humans were still lying motionless. It wasn't just the humans who were oblivious to the late breakfast time. The furry orange menace known as Meatball was out cold on the bed as well. Once a cream puff of a kitten, he was growing fast. Where tufts of orange fur and tiny paws had once been, there were now lanky legs and tall ears. And Meatball was showing a shocking level of entitlement now, even in his sleep. He lay stretched to his full length, which even Auggie had to admit was becoming quite impressive. But worse, he was lying sideways, taking up so much of the middle of the bed that both the man and the lady looked ready to roll off their respective edges. Auggie simmered with quiet annoyance. Not only was he betraying her by sleeping through the breakfast hour, but he was getting away with an enormous show of impertinence. He really had so little proper cattitude, she reflected. Fortunately for Auggie, she didn't have to resort to any undignified behavior in order to finally wake the humans. Moments later, one of the small people entered the room, Hare standing on end, and poked the man in the shoulder, loudly whispering and waving a handheld device at him. The man seemed to ignore this for a moment, but the smaller person became quite insistent, distant now, waking Meatball, who rolled over and stretched himself even longer than Auggie had thought possible. The man muttered something to the boy in a sleepy voice, and the little person went away, instantly awake. Meatball bounded off the bed, following in his wake Auggie knew the younger cat was hoping to be fed, but she observed smugly that the little person wasn't one of the feeders and that Meatball was, as ever, completely clueless. Instead, Borgie stayed behind to complete the work that really needed to be done. She walked around to the side of the bed where the man now lay with his eyes closed again, willing sleep to return. But she was sure it was over for him. And when he opened those eyes again, she'd be right next to him, issuing her hardest, most judgmental stare. And so it was. Events unfolded exactly as she predicted. Of course, the man opened his eyes and looked at her. They locked gazes. And then he groaned, sat up and pulled on his robe as he walked down the stairs. She followed at a leisurely distance. Auggie knew he would first pour the coffee and then fill her bowl. She would arrive composed and ready to enjoy her breakfast. It took Meatball a few minutes to notice that the small human was a foolish diversion. By the time the gangly cat had arrived at his bowl, Auggie had safely consumed most of her breakfast. She had learned to leave nothing behind because he was sure to take hers after his own portion was gone. Triumphant, she sashayed out into the living room. She would make her usual visit to the blowing heat vent and then to the armchair, where she could observe the morning business of the street. Of course, there were always the silly dogs to see, but this was a particularly good time of year for her to feel superior because some of them came outside wearing the most ridiculous, ridiculous little jackets. Dogs were too oblivious to realise how undignified they looked, and they gamboled about with their usual embarrassing exuberance. Wookie's eyes fell half shut as she almost bored herself to sleep thinking about she was peacefully dozing when some human activity caused her to resurface to wakefulness. There was a flurry of running about and donning of fuzzy sweaters. The small humans had reached a familiar level of excitement, during which Borgie generally found it wise to stay out of sight. The man and the little ones then trooped down the stairs as the lady human called out commands to them. Then she shook her head and carried a steaming cup of coffee back upstairs. In the distance, up above, the television was turned on. Then Augie heard the distinctive noise of the sliding glass door in the walkout basement, accompanied by a clattering sound and some paper bags crackling. This made her creep in slow motion out of her hiding place, place under the coffee table. This entire scene was most irregular. She wasn't sure what was happening downstairs, but she had misgivings. Meatball, of course, was not wise enough to be concerned about this break routine. He went tumbling down the stairs like a foolish lummox. Whatever was happening, he was eager to be part of it. Auggie sat near the stairs, conflicted. On the one hand, it was her job to know everything about everything in the house. On the other hand, this suspicious activity could create unpleasantness for her. Should she sally forth boldly or hide? The sliding glass door thumped shut. When it did, the loud noises from inside became distant, fragmented noises that drifted in the main floor window, which was also cracked open just a bit. This mysterious turn of events was too much for her to tolerate, so she made her way down the stairs and crossed the walkout basement to see what was going on there. She sat, trapped inside behind the glass door, while the three humans, one big and two small, cavorted in the yard. Worst of all, Meatball was out there with them, and she was not. Auggie was aware that there were two types of cats in the world, indoor cats and outdoor cats. She prided herself on having the genius to enjoy the best of both worlds. She was mostly an indoor cat, enjoying comforts such as heat vents, cozy furniture, and a bird's eye view of bad weather outside. But she was also allowed to go into a couple of safe spaces outside the house. Those two spaces were the deck on the main floor and the small yard below, which was surrounded by a very high wooden fence. Auggie liked this yard because she could enjoy nature there without having to look out for dogs or other annoying invaders. Today it appeared that the people were engaged in tidying up the yard. As Augie glared through the glass, feeling forgotten, she saw that they were finally gathering all the yellow and brown leaves that had fallen off the maple tree. In recent weeks, Augie had watched these harbingers of winter flutter down on a daily basis, soaring gaily on their way to the ground. But they did pile up, and when they were lying down there, they obscured her view of the lawn and its busy little creatures. Rabbits and squirrels got away with their activities unobserved, which was, frankly unacceptable. The people were overdue to rectify this problem. The man was now using a long pole to push those leaves into a great pile. The older of the little ones was likewise struggling with a similar sized pole. She wasn't making much progress, though, and her cheeks were getting red. The littlest human was really more of a detriment to the process. He kept picking up piles of leaves between his two hands and walking across the yard, scattering them in new places. While this was going on, meat Paul's lizard brain was in overdrive. He was following the smaller child around the lawn, pouncing on leaves that he had dropped. Then, with a total lack of concentration, he would periodically walk to the perimeter of the fence, sniffing things that were invisible. This was his first time experiencing the sights and sounds of the autumn season, and he was, she thought disapprovingly, quite overwrought. Although she loathed doing it, Auggie was left with no other option. She had to attract the attention of of the humans if she wanted to get outside and manage this inefficient process. Shrinking inwardly, she stood up on her hind legs and pressed her immense furry belly and her front paws against the door, letting out a subtle mew. Nobody noticed. She sat down again for a few seconds and then repeated the posture, but this time she went all out, paddling her paws against the door. She meowed more loudly this time the older child noticed. She dropped her stick and pointed at the door, chattering and laughing, further insulting Augie's dignity. The man laughed as well, but he did come to the door and open it. Gathering herself, Auggie haughtily squeezed through the opening, thinking to herself the man could have made it just a little wider. Alas, the people did not seem to be very intelligent at times, but even Auggie had a little trouble maintaining her aloofness, and she felt the crisp autumn air fill her lungs. It was a gloriously sunny day. The sky above was a bright, beautiful blue, with barely a cloud in sight. The paving stones of the patio were quite cold under her paws. She lifted one foot after the other and delicately placed her nose close to the ground. Hopping up on the comparatively warmer wooden border of a nearby garden box, she neatly tucked her paws under her big furry body and wrapped her tail neatly around them. The humans had now raked most of the fallen leaves into one enormous pile, but smaller mountains still lurked around the edge of the yard near the fence. Meatball had become fixated on the perimeter of the yard, which he was now investigating like a bloodhound poking his nose into one area after the other. He was finding the tiny gaps under the fence and then madly poking his paws through them. This created a rustling and crunching of leaves, which excited him even more. Soon his tail was as fluffy as a duster, and he was madly jumping in circles as if pursuing an invisible flow foe. Orgie turned away from the sight, mildly embarrassed for him. She squinted up into the gentle autumn sun, which seemed to be more full of color than warmth. As she did, a single brave leaf finally let go of the branch it had been clinging to. It sailed in wide swoops, down, down, down, crossing in front of the orb of the sun in her vision. And then it finally came to rest with the others in the big le. Meatball was distracted from his solo antics when the smaller child went plunging into the big leaf pile. His sister cried out joyfully and within seconds had thrown down her pole and jumped in next to him. The glass door slid open and the lady human came out. Dressed in a sweater. She spoke to the children in a tone that seemed both gentle and scolding. Augie knew these tones because they would speak the gentle one to her when everyone was cuddling on the couch.
