Sally and Santiago

                                            Sally and Santiago

        His name was Santiago.  Santiago was stalky, with a chip out of his left ear and a bald-spot on his tail.  Though only three years old, the cat had much to say of life.  He tended to be arrogant, mischievous, and at times quite stupid. Santiago had been run over by a bicycle twice, had provoked a dog to tearing him to near death, and had caught his tail on fire when investigating the process of dinner.
         Through all of his adventures, accomplishments and failures, Santiago had had only one true goal in life: kill the fish. 
As a little puff of orange fur, Santiago would sit on the floor, eyes wide in fascination, and mew softly at the fish on the table.  In return, Sally the goldfish would linger in aquatic suspension on the half of the bowl most visible to the kitten.  It looked as if she was smiling, but of course you can never really tell with a fish.  Perhaps she was just as curious about the orange fur-ball as it was of her?  Perhaps that was the side with the best sun exposure?  Whatever the reason, Santiago felt as if the fish was taunting him, and he had held that grudge ever since.
         There had, of course, been numerous attempts to assassinate the fish over the years, but all had failed at the hands of the woman of the house, who would grab him by the scruff of the neck and march him outside every time she saw him on the table.  About five months into Santiago’s introduction to the family Sally was moved into the master bedroom - a cat-free zone even before the attempted killings.  The uncontrollable shedding of the orange tabby didn’t quite compliment the black sheets and sofa.  He didn’t see the fish again for three years.
         He knew she was there.  Every time that door opened and Santiago was around, he would race to squeeze in.  He succeeded a few times, but was caught in the seconds he stopped to look around for the offending fish.  It wasn’t for certain, but the last time he had slipped in he believed he had pinpointed her location as being on the long dresser with the mirror behind it. 
        He would kill that fish.  If it took him another three years, he would kill it. In order to do so however, he needed to change his strategy.  He waited, and watched.  Whenever the woman walked in he would watch her, not the door, but her.  Should one day there be a distraction, he might be able to maneuver his way in.  For now she turned and scowled at him knowingly.  Eventually, the opportunity came when the woman was carrying in a tray of food, concentrating on not spilling the carefully balanced glass of milk.  Santiago took his opportunity and raced in, only to hear the voice of the man yell, “Santiago!”, throwing sheets off and jumping after the stunned cat.  The plan had failed.  Santiago turned around to run, crashing into the legs of the woman, spilling not only the milk but everything on the tray.  He thought he might get in less trouble since the milk landed mainly on him, and not the black carpet, but apparently he was wrong.  As punishment the cat was sentenced to a week of sleeping outside.
        And so Santiago stalked the mice and beetles hanging around the house for a few nights, not bored but a little uncomfortable with the fall chills.  It was on the third night that Santiago spotted something particularly interesting - a window.  A small little window he had never noticed before, accessible only by tree.  Naturally the curious tabby pulled his way up.  He balanced his walk to the end of a thinning branch and looked closely at the window.  It was half closed, which meant it was also half open.  He widened his eyes, giving off a mischievous green glow that would be obvious to anyone, should there have been anyone there.  Judging his jump and gripping the branches, Santiago took a deep breath.  With a particularly clumsy wobble, the tabby managed to fling himself to the window ledge, at least so much that his upper body made it onto the ledge.  Scratching his way up with his hind legs, Santiago wiggled through the window, pushing it up slightly with a low creak.  He discovered he was in uncharted territory - the master bathroom.
        The first thing Santiago noticed upon gently jumping down onto the tiled sink counter-top, was that the door to the bedroom was ever so slightly ajar.  Three years of careful planning, failed advances, and unfair punishment was about to be put to shame by a perfect opportunity governed only by luck, chance, and spilled milk.  Softly, but eagerly, the cat leapt down from the counter and peered through the slit in the door.  The room was dark, the couple was asleep, the moment was right.  He entered silently, taking small bouncy steps. With a joy hardly containable, Santiago leapt up onto the dresser and took two sly, deliberate steps over to Sally’s bowl.  He grinned, bearing the tips of his teeth slightly below a strip of coarse orange fur studded with uneven whiskers (the result of trying to steal discarded meat from the garborator).  He bent over slightly and put his sparkling green eyes close to the glass.  Sally turned around slowly to face a giant, somehow familiar, orange face.  She also saw the hunter’s glowing eyes and sharp teeth.  Her bubble output increased.
        Santiago stood up straight and balanced on his two back legs with his front paws on the edge of the bowl.  He dipped his head closer to the water and stopped.  As if scanning for any possible defenders, maybe even more possible victims, Santiago’s eyes flashed in every direction.  Sally, confused, and of course helpless, swam into the protection of a little brown castle. 
        Carefully, Santiago dipped a paw into the water and quickly withdrew it, realizing it was not only water, which he hated, but also cold.  Again he dipped the paw into the water.  Slowly he submerged his arm, watching the little orange and white hairs fan off of his leg with the descent.  He swatted at the castle.  It didn’t move, but he felt the pressure of something underneath it shifting. Again he swatted, this time seeing a little shuffle of blue pebbles at the base. It wasn’t built into the bowl, it was just buried!  He swatted again, and again, until finally the castle came loose and slowly fell onto its back, with the opening face up.  Sally poked her little fish-nose out of the opening, hoping to see the giant mean cat gone, but was greeted with a flailing paw and outstretched claws.  She withdrew once more into her castle.  It might have been able to topple, but the cat could not possibly bring the castle out of the bowl.
        For five minutes, the increasingly frustrated tabby swatted at the castle, not trying to catch the flesh of the fish, but to get a grip on the plastic and bring the castle up out of the bowl.  It was obvious Sally was not going to come out and play.  He managed a few times to catch and lift the castle up a few inches, but it always fell back to the bottom, much to the discomfort of the poor fish.  Santiago took out his paw.  He placed the saturated leg on the edge of the bowl.  The hint of Sally’s orange face, with those blank, black eyes, could be seen looking up at him from within the castle, and Santiago flashed back to his kitten-days when the fish taunted him with just that stare.  Santiago walked around the bowl to the other side, paused, then walked back again.  He jumped up and put his paws on the edge. Sally’s beady little eyes had followed his migration around the bowl, and Santiago felt the resentment welling up in his muscles. He positioned himself between the mirror and bowl. The frustrated cat pushed with considerable effort, but success. The bowl tipped, wobbled, and then fell, banging slightly on the edge of the dresser as it toppled, dumping out half its contents before finally falling over the edge of the dresser and bouncing off of the carpet with a dull ‘thunk’. 
        The man and woman were up immediately, terribly upset by the noise.  Santiago looked over at them with large eyes and a twitch of his ear. The woman quickly grabbed the bowl and ran to fill it with more water while the man searched for the precious fish.  They ignored Santiago completely, who wasn’t sure if he was pleased at being ignored after such an act.  Still, the proud feline sat down on the edge of the dresser, swishing his tail absently, and narrowing his gaze at the castle, which was lying on the carpet, opening facing up.  The cat was the only one who could see Sally’s desperate flapping as she lay trapped inside that castle, which had drained after the fall due to cheap sealings. The woman returned with the bowl and joined the search and rescue mission Santiago knew was futile. 
        The man could not find the fish.  The woman could not find the fish.  Only the cat could find the fish.  Staring into her fishy eyes, which looked back at him in fear, Santiago grinned. Sally’s fading orange body heaved a few final times inside the castle, and her furry assassin watched in delicious pleasure as her life came to an end.  Every hair on his body tingled in excitement, and he swished his tail in triumph; his blood ran quickly through his veins and he could feel the warm sense of accomplishment. The woman paused from her search and stood up, staring Santiago straight in the eye with an angered and teary glare. She knew. Santiago had finally killed the fish.