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Huffy Fluffy Fluffed

The new phone books just arrived. I found them bundled in a bag at the end of the driveway and lugged them into the house. I dropped the bag just inside the front door near my desk and went on to do other things. Later Fluffy and I returned to the desk together.

As we approached the desk Fluffy was barely in the lead (playing “chicken” with my feet). I am not quite certain what happened next. One second Fluffy was under my feet and the next he was suspended about three feet above the floor with every hair on his body at point. He landed as silently as he leapt, but his hair did not settle.

Back arched, balanced on the tips of his claws, he siddled over to the plastic bag and whacked it. It rustled at him so he whacked it again. It cowered obediently. Fluffy siddled closer. He sniffed the bag. He sniffed it again.

Some of the curve started to leave his back. He settled onto his feet. His hair lost volume. And the next-door neighbor knocked on the front door.

With a siamese yeowl, Fluffy reprised his leap, landed on full alert, whacked the bag about six times, and tangled his paw in the plastic. He jerked several times to free himself. The bag toppled forward, the phone books slid out, and Fluffy saw he was out numbered. He fled.

Later, as the neighbor and I were visiting, Fluffy crept cautiously across the living room. He moved like a lion on attack, with his belly near the ground. As he neared the front door he slowed even more, on alert for every danger.

When he saw the phone books out of the bag and on the floor beside the desk, he approached with extreme caution. He sniffed the air, growled low in his throat, and continued his incremental advance. The books did not respond. He crept closer. And closer still.

Upon recieving no resistence he sniffed the phone books throughly, climbed up and sat on them, then let out a satisfied, “Yee-ooW!” The phone books have been conquered and the house is safe from marauding yellow pages.


Quilly is the pseudonym of Charlene L. Amsden, who lives on The Big Island in Hawaii. When she is not hanging out with Amoeba, she is likely teaching or sewing. Or she could be cooking, taking photographs, or even writing. But if she's not doing any of that, she's probably on Facebook or tinkering with her blog.


  1. Hi. I was caught speechless by your comment. I suppose I still am. I just wanted to say “thank you,” which does nothing to describe how I feel.

    Thank you. For taking the time to give some words to a stranger.

    Thank you.

  2. This was hilarious. The thought of Fluffy vini, vidi, vicci-ing the yellow pages had me falling out of my chair.

  3. Thank you, Jenn. I am thrilled by your comment and I will be sure to share it with Fluffy. (He amy not appreciate it as much as I.)

  4. Hmmm…Yellow pages are one thing; but can our feline warrior handle the dreaded mop?

    All kidding aside…great story. You’ve brought joy to my heart this morning.

  5. ah cats, I have had a cat since I was about 12, and I snuck one in on the front porch and hid it from my Mom, she didn’t find it, till the flower pots were stinking and I couldn’t hide it anymore, by then I was so attached she let me keep him. From that day, I have never been without a cat, and I never will, they add so much to my life. I love reading about your cats……..–>

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