2019-07-30 - The Catgirl and Crazy Cat Lady

Summary:

Sharon (Catseye) meets Deanna

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Tue Jul 30 01:02:48 2019
Location: Purrfection

Related Logs

None

Theme Song

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deanna-robinscatseye

Catseye slips in from the street, making sure the door closes swiftly and smoothly behind her. Anyone who has multiple cats is familiar with the slow saunter past, not -quite- making eye contact that cats do when they are sizing each other up. It's rather amusing seeing someone mostly human do it with a room full of strange cats. Mostly, because Sharon does have cat-slitted eyes, and the purple furred tail behind her is up and hooked in the classic happy-but-curious cat manner. Her nostrils flare, and she tilts her head to the side, listening to something… then makes a very high pitched chirp back, almost too high for humans to hear as she exchanges greetings with one of the local cats. Feline proprieties satisfied, she wanders over to the counter to place a coffee order. "Latte, please? And is it ok to give treats to cats?"

"We have cat treats you can buy, yes," says the kindly elder woman at the counter, tapping up the order on the sleek iPAD looking thing.

"A latte and a cat treats bag. Can I get you anything else?" she asks, having watched the felinoid enter her shop. The happy curious of her tail was noted, the flare of nostrils, the chirp of grettings, and Deanna smiles warmly.

Catseye shakes her head, "Is all for now." She pays for the order, and drops a five dollar bill in the tip jar. "Do you mind if sit on the floor? Is easier on the cats… and my jeans." Her little nose-wrinkle of amusement is more feline than human in body language, if she had whiskers they'd be arching forward. She looks over at the kitten corner, but notes the no food sign and will wait for later.

"No, not at all, kitten," says Deanna happily, reading that feline amusement easily.

"There's a rug by the window over there that's perfect to sit and soak up some sun in. Elizabeth is often found holding court there, but she'll share if you offer the appropriate pettings," she explains as she sets a small bag of treats on the counter. It really is small, and it wasn't expensive at all. It's clearly portioned so that the cat's don't over eat on a heavy day.

"You go right on over and make yourself comfurtable and I'll take your drink to you when it's ready."

Catseye's nostrils flare, and once she is sure there's no catnip involved, takes the bag of treats and smiles. "Thank you." She goes over to sit on the patch of sun, laying the treats out on her lap and a few next to her for whatever cat feels like wandering over to join her. Soon a soft, steady purr is coming from her throat. Humans will trill their tongue to try and mimic a purr, but have to pause to inhale. Sharon's purr comes from the throat, the way a true cat's does, and purrs on inhale and exhale without pause.

"You're welcome," Deanna says, working on the latte as Cat moves away. Umbreon, a sleek solid black short hair, makes his way over and headrams Catseye's knee. He sniffs at the treats then, eating them and following them like two preteens in a forest would follow bits of bread back home, so that he has crawled into Catseye's lap. With the treats consumed and a warm lap located, he pads about in a neat circle on her thighs before dropping into himself into the hollow of her legs. His purrs join hers as Deanna comes up and sets the latte near at hand.

"Stay for as long as you like, kitten. I'll keep others from bothering you," she offers.

Catseye starts scritching Umberon once he settles, her tail curling up and around the cat in her lap. "Cats never a bother. Would have a dozen, if school allowed. Maybe someday." She takes a sip of her latte and smiles wryly, "Get along better with cats than people. But if mean not let people bother, then thank you very much." Her fingers seem to find all the good places to scratch, and always move on before one particular spot can become overstimulating.

"I did mean people, but I'm glad you don't find the other felines a bother," the cat lady replies, moving to settle in an airchair near by. She adjusts her cat eye glasses slightly.

"You're welcome here any time you like. May I ask? What are you going to school for?"

Catseye gives a little grimace, "Trying to improve English, taking math, programming, history. Will probably major programming, if language skills not improve. Need to make living, yes? Love history, love writing, but… not able to talk in front of people, get to listen past how talk. Limits options. Writing easier, can move words around, make the shape and rhythm that people expect."

"That does make sense," says the elder woman, smiling kindly. "Although, personally? I love your accent, the way you put your words together. It makes me have to stop and listen to what you're saying. I'm sure you have so many wonderfully important points of view too. What if you did an open mic night? Where you prepare written things, and then you read them?"

Sharon smiles, "Oh, can /recite/ no problem. Is just putting words together in conversation that is problem. Emily Dickinson, is particular favorite." She smiles at the cat in her lap, petting it as she recites.
""Hope" is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I've heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me."

Listening in, Deanna smiles, and when the poem is done she sighs lightly.

"Lovely, dear. Just lovely," is commented. "Still, I do like the way you talk naturally."

Sharon smiles shyly, "Thanks." She giggles a little as the cat her her lap starts to groom her tail, and makes little happy chirps at it that are so high pitched they don't seem quite human. Umberon looks up at her, his mouth moving but nothing that human ears can hear coming out, and resume grooming her tail as she scratches down along his spine.

"My pleasure," Deanna says, watching the two felines.

"He's taken a fancy to you," she says pleasantly, hands folding on her lap. Her smile is warm, like a grandmother watching a kitten.

Sharon smiles, "Hard to explain… Cats not have language… but there are… sounds that are happy sounds. sad sounds. warning sounds. Family sounds, yes? Move like cat, make sounds like cat, smell like cat. Is easy for them to understand and accept differences, if do the right things."

"Hard to explain, but you did it beautifully," Deanna praises before nodding to the drink and snack that gets brought to Sharon. "There you are. Need anything else?" she asks in a motherly tone

Sharon just shakes her head, "No. Just will spend time with cats while can, have to head back to school soon. Definitely will be back, maybe bring some friends." She scratches Umberon under the chin. "Hard to resist urge to smuggle in freeze dried salmon for them. But understand have to watch what they eat." Plus if she comes in smelling like salmon, she'd probably get mobbed by every cat in the place. Not that she'd mind.

"Sounds wonderful. I look forward to meeting them," Deanna replies, moving to press herself up from her chair.

"If you want to bring them snacks, you can look at the snack request board. Donate any of those and you'll get a free coffee or scone of your choice, and those snacks will be added to their snack menu," she adds, glancing back as a extra fluffy ginger takes over the empty cushion Deana just vacated.

Sharon glances once at the list, memorizing it, and nods. "Have some of them at home, will bring next time." She murmurs to the cat in her lap, "Better for you than people food… cheese is tasty, but not good for cats."

Smiling, Deanna nods before turning away and leaving her newest feline patron in her beam of sunlight.

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