Fishing Cat Friday

Just in case you missed the Fishing Cat 'tail...'

If you remember last week’s story- a Fishing Cat happened to wash-up on the banks of a creek near a PA town.  Now, this Fishing Cat was dazed, confused and just flat-out bewilderedly, bewildered.  What happened?  How did he paws-ibly wash-up in PA?  Everyone knows that a Fishing Cat comes from Asia.  How did he literally get on the other side of the world?

Well, if he knew the answer to that- he wouldn’t be in this mess?

In the meantime, Casey the cat was pawing around the creek on his morning rounds.  Now, if don’t know Casey- here’s his photo below:

Anyway, Casey’s morning routine always consisted of checking out the scene at the creek and catching a morning fish for a snack.  He happened to find the Fishing Cat sitting on the log and at first- he thought he was a regular cat.

“Who are you?”  asked Casey.  “Where did you come from?”

The Fishing Cat stared at Casey with big, watery eyes.  He couldn’t figure out what was going on.  What type of cat was talking to him anyway?  He never saw a yellow and white cat before, so he wasn’t sure what to do.

After a few minutes of staring- Casey started getting really excited.  “You’re a Fishing Cat!! A Fishing Cat!!!”

The Fishing Cat looked at Casey with a dazed expression.  Meee-ow, he was a handsome fella.  He had the purr-fect grayish-brown coat with the purr-fect compliment of black stripes and dots.  His face was purr-fectly curved and his nose was about as pink as Casey’s!  His coat was shiny and wet, reminding Casey of a seal at the zoo.  What’s amazing was that his coat was drying with amazing speed. 

“Where am I?”  he asked.

          “Pennsylvania,” Casey meowed, still in awe.  “How did you get here?”

          You could almost see the grinders over the Fishing Cat’s head trying to figure out how in the meow he got there.  Casey took note that the poor dude looked exhausted!  His legs were even shaking.  He leaned against a rock and Casey gave him a nudge, so he’d sit down.  “Thanks,” he said.  “I’m really tired.”
          “You looked it,” Casey meowed.  “What’s your name?”

          “Frankie,” he answered, “what about you?”

          “Casey,” he meowed.  “How did you get here?”

          Frankie looked really confused.  “Where is Pennsylvania exactly?”

          It never hit Casey that the poor dude wouldn’t know what he was meowing about.  It was stupid to assume that all animals had even heard of this state.  “You’re in the USA!”  he meowed.

          Frankie’s eyes turned into saucers. “Huh?  Wow!”

          “Don’t you remember anything at all?”  Casey asked. 

          Frankie’s tail swished back and forth.  “No,” he said, as he looked around the area.  “You know it’s nice here.”
          Casey looked around at the overflowing creek and the all of the trees.  He could see Frankie’s point of view.  Cats from all over enjoyed hanging on this side of creek.  “Maybe you can stay here,” he suggested.

          Frankie’s eyes widened.  He never thought of that but then again, he still couldn’t figure out he washed up at this place.  It seemed like a nice place there was plenty of greenery around and the water seemed really clean.  He also could see plenty of fish by one simple glance.  Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to hang around.  “Are you sure?”

          Casey’s whiskers twitched.  “Paws-itively,” he meowed.  “It’s not such a bad place.”  Then something hit Casey.  “You know I’m surprised you can understand my meowing.”

          Frankie’s tail started swishing and he gave Casey a big cat-like grin.  “Aw, c’mon you know that every cat understands each other no matter what.”

          Casey gave a laugh/purr.  “Funny,” he answered, “so what do you think?”

          Frankie liked how the sun felt on his fur and he was feeling good.  “I’ll stick around some,” he said.

          Casey was happy to hear that, and I bet you’re wondering why it meant so much to him.  Well, that’s surprisingly easy to answer.  Casey was a cat who appreciated the value of other cats.  He knew that it was important to be nice and to help a fellow feline whenever necessary.  The trouble was- where exactly would Frankie stay?

          And to top it all off, what would the rest of the ‘Purry Cute’ gang say about him????

(Remember this is a continuing story!!)