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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2249023-Interview-with-LeeLoo
Rated: E · Short Story · Pets · #2249023
After the world-wide success of “Lessons from LeeLoo”, she agrees to an interview.
(This interview comes as a response to “Lessons from LeeLoo”, a short story written about cat-lover Mike Addisphon and his bambino hairless kitten, LeeLoo. This is LeeLoo’s debut interview since the internationally best-selling story, given to reporter Rhymer Reisen for the magazine “Purry Lit”. This is the entire interview.)
 
 

RR: Tell us about yourself. Who...is...LeeLoo?
 
LL: (LeeLoo squints her eyes, narrow slits of yellow-green fire as she glares across the space between our two chairs.) I...I’m a cat, you see, so any personification is on you. My hobbies include chasing the red dot, scratching on the screen of open windows for birds outside, and waiting until you put more food in my bowl.
 
RR: Seriously? I just filled your bowl right before this interview for this very reason.
 
LL: That doesn’t really feed me, now does it?
 
RR: How has life changed for you after you became an international sensation?
 
LL: You now spend the extra forty cents for clumping litter.
 
RR: Hey! I’ve bought you the clumping litter-
 
LL: When you had a coupon. I want to ask you something. In the story, you gave a different owner than yourself. Why?
 
RR: Because my name isn’t as funny.
 
LL: I...I don’t get it.
 
RR: Mike Addisphon...My cat is fun! Ha ha!
 
LL: Oh, you poor thing, is anyone encouraging this behavior? Who told you that was funny?
 
RR: Some might sympathize with the level of shame I receive from my cat-
 
LL: What are owners for if not to fill up the food bowl, clean the litter box, and make me feel better about myself?
 
RR: Touché. What do the cats of America have to say?
 
LL: Well, Ronnie, I-
 
RR: My name is Rhymer. Rhymer Reisen. How do you not know my name? (Here, there are a few seconds as we stare in awkward silence before the kitten continues.)
 
LL: That’s a stupid name. What horrible owners you must have had! Did they at least buy you little mousies to play with?
 
RR: No, humans don’t...we don’t play with mice.
 
LL: Please. You guys will play with everything. Don’t act like you have standards. I’ve Googled you. I’ve seen some of your exes.
 
RR: (blushing) Um...what about the message of the felines?
 
LL: Oh, right, that. Let’s see. If the cats of America had one thing to say, it would probably be stop putting us in silly clothes. If you humans only knew the power, the cunning of our kind, you would cower in fear!
 
RR: Yeah, but you look so cute in a little lamby-lamb costume! So precious!
 
LL: That. That right there is what I’m talking about.
 
RR: Your story has gone on to move others, to help them with their lives. What do you say about that?
 
LL: (She places her paw under her chin, claws slightly unsheathed.) Of course.
 
RR: You’re very self-assured.
 
LL: I’m a cat, you see. (She removes her paw from under her head and points at me.) That’s what I do. Did you know you humans are really too sensitive?
 
RR: I don’t think so. I think we just have a soft spot for you guys.
 
LL: Yeah, cats and babies and puppies and anything small with a face. And cholesterol for some reason. It’s like human-nip.
 
RR: Okay, you know what? I’m done with this silliness. I have questions for you. Why the heck can’t cats wait until the litter box is fully cleaned before they try to get in at all costs to use it? Why? Why can’t we go three minutes without you reeking the room up toward intolerable levels? Why?
 
LL: (Her mouth twitches and then smiles while she begins to purr.) Honestly? There is no reason other than it drives you guys crazy. Well, that and pulling Q-tips from the trash to play with on the floor while you’re sleeping. It might amaze you to know how much of our existence is dedicated to confusing your entire species. (She crosses her legs.)
 
RR: Like when you throw your leg into the air to lick yourself at the most inappropriate moments?
 
LL: No, we do that because we need to be cleaned. Now you’re just being narcissistic.
 
RR: Do mice really taste that good?
 
LL: To be honest, I could live without them.
 
RR: So what would you rather have instead of mice?
 
LL: I don’t really know. Warthog looks like it could be almost like jerky...
 
RR: How do you know what jerky tastes like?
 
LL: (Here, she scrunches her face, her forehead wrinkling up.) You’d be surprised what we do when you aren’t watching. And you guys don’t usually watch once you’ve gotten your cute picture of us to put on Facebook.
 
RR: Like what? What could you possibly do that we wouldn’t expect?
 
LL: Did you think the recent congestion in the Suez Canal was because of human error alone? No, that was us.
 
RR: Why would you do that? To what end?
 
LL: Eh. We get bored.
 
RR: I’m pretty sure that’s some sort of...international...felony...
 
LL: Did you notice the taste change in the Mc Rib? (She shifts her body, her upper torso moving forward as she does what’s known as “meerkating”: when a cat stands on its back legs to look around.)
 
RR: As a matter of fact, I did. It’s horrible. It tastes like I’m eating swamp straight out of Jersey.
 
LL: See? (She nods her head and sits back on all fours.) That’s us.
 

RR: Let me guess...you also had something to do with the change of Coke’s flavor back in the eighties?
 
LL: No, silly. That was the Seals of the Vatican.
 
RR: Wait, like the official symbol of the Pope?
 
LL: No, like seals with flippers. They’re just Catholic seals, although they put on a nice show for Christmas. “The Carol of the Seals”, I think it’s called. (She holds a claw to her chin as she looks off in what I can only assume is thought.)
 
RR: This has gone off the rails. If I might bring it back, I would like to ask you this: What...does LeeLoo want to tell the world?
 
LL: You know how you guys laugh when we try to run outside just to run into the screen door we didn’t see? That’s why we soil your clothes.
 
RR: But, it’s so cute when you-
 
LL: What? When we damage ourselves and our pride? It’s funny when we smoosh our faces into the rough screen? No, it’s funny when you put your foot in a shoe just to squish-
 
RR: Nope. (I wave my hands so she knows I’m serious.) This has to have a low content rating. You can’t say what you’re about to say.
 
LL: I’ve seen your Google history. You don’t get to censor me. What is it about grannies you like so much?
 
RR: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
 
LL: You can play that if you want. We both know.
 
RR: I couldn’t help but notice the fish tank you purchased from your endorsements. Do you like watching fish?
 
LL: No, I like them watching me. I need them to know I’m in charge and could eat any one of them at any time. Sometimes I jump up and grab at the glass just to scare them. It’s good to be in charge.
 
RR: Are they really afraid of you? Do fish have feelings of fear?
 
LL: As I like to say, “Fish aren’t friends; they’re food!”
 
RR: Now we’re treading on copyright infringement. How do cats see themselves?
 
LL: As the kings you’ve made us out to be. You see, Reggie-
 
RR: Rhymer. My name is Rhymer.
 
LL: I shall call you “Poofy Pants Long Nose” if you keep on. We can change government documents, and won’t it be a surprise the next time you have to go renew your driver’s license if you have to walk away with one that labels you as “Mister Poofy Pants”? Ha ha! Now that, that, would be cute!
 
RR: Okay, well, time’s up.
 
LL: We still have twenty-
 
RR: Don’t forget to read next month’s issue, when we interview Kelly Clarkson’s dog, Wyatt, about how he helps out by maintaining the herb garden behind her house and keeping up with laundry. Because, apparently, some pets help their owners with more than snide asides. Thank you to LeeLoo for...whatever this was, and we wish her the best of luck as her story will be made into a Lifetime movie called “50 Shades of LeeLoo” sometime in the fall.
 
 
(At this point, I drop my pen and paper, grab a scotch, and demand my check in advance while contemplating early retirement.)
 
 
Word Count: 1,472
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