Mattie's Memoirs
"My Clock is Ticking"

So I've been giving this a lot of thought. First, I notice the cat next door has yet another litter of kittens. Then I peak inside the gazebo on Mommy's front porch and I find a litter of birds.

I have to admit, baby cats look so much cuter. Baby birds look round and bald until they get some age on them.

So I began to wonder, what would my babies look like? Besides royalty, of course. They would have my deep auburn hair and my cute little freckles. The girls would have my waist-line. The boys... well, I wouldn't have any boys. I would just have girls. And I'd enroll them in modeling school and they would walk around with books on their heads and they would master the art of the wave. After all, they would be destined to ride in convertibles at every parade, while people swooned and threw flowers at their paws.
So now I want a litter. Puppies, I think that's what Mommy calls them. I want puppies. How to get them?

The cat next door looked ill right before the kittens appeared. And she laid under the car. Mommy won't let me get under the car, so I improvised. I laid under the dining room table and looked ill.

For hours.

But nothing happened.

My brother came along and peered at me and asked what was wrong.

He looked so worried that I decided to try something else.

The car or the pavement must have had something to do with having a litter.

I begged and I pleaded, but Mommy wouldn't let me under the car. She wouldn't even let me lay on the pavement. So I laid in the grass beside the driveway.

For hours.

I made Skipper lay beside me. He said he would practice laying like Daddy does on his day off from work.

But still no litter. Wait! I've got it! When the cat had kittens, she was wiggling all around! That's what I was missing!

So I wiggled and I wiggled.

But still no litter!

Then Mommy brought us in the house and told us we needed to talk.

She explained that my brother Skipper and I wouldn't be able to have a litter of puppies. Not now. Not ever.

We had been fixed.

I ran from the house. I ran in circles. I ran up and down the yard. "I'm fixed!" I screamed. "I'm fixed! I never knew I was broken, but now I'm fixed!!" 

 

So now I know the Facts of Life. You can only have a litter if you're broken. I have a newfound sympathy for the Mommy bird. And the Mommy cat. And my own Mommy. No wonder she doesn't look much like me. No wonder she walks on two feet instead of four, and has to wear clothes to keep from freezing. She's broken.

Someday, after I've graduated from Doggie Yale, and have my PhD, I will discover a way to fix her. And then she'll be just like me.

Only she won't be royalty.