The Jungle Cat

On Wednesday my boss, Maggie, threw a party to celebrate my graduation! It was a lot of fun, and I felt really happy! One of Maggie's good friends from school was visiting her, so she came to the party as well. While I was talking to her she related a funny story. She and Maggie had been communicating through email about what was going on in their lives. Maggie had told her that she was living in the mall. Her friend took this to mean that Maggie spent a lot of time in the mall. What Maggie really meant was that her condo is on top of the mall, and she really lives there! Her friend thought it was so funny when she discovered the truth. She had thought Maggie was speaking metaphorically.

So for our prompt tonight, I had everyone write a story about a metaphor literally happening. We got some creative responses. And I'm proud of mine, I must say. Here it is:



As I was finishing my daily walk, I noticed my neighbor's black cat sauntering down the road. Max was headed away from my neighbor's house, so I thought I'd pick him up and take him along home. He didn't seem too pleased with the idea, scratching my arm in a couple places, but I knew he was an inside cat and that my neighbor would want him returned.

As I walked up the front steps to Lynn's house, she came out to greet me. "You found him! I just noticed that he got out and I was about to go look." I handed over the cat, and in the process Lynn noticed my scratches. "Oh, he got you, did he? Come here to the kitchen and I'll get some band aids for you." As she rubbed some alcohol into the wounds, she talked about similar experiences in the past and apologized for the scratches. "He used to be quite the jungle cat, but I thought we had broken him of that habit."

Lynn was taking quite a bit of care to clean out the cuts, and being much more fastidious about it than I would have been if I'd been left alone. I wondered how much longer she would take. I wondered what time it was. I unconsciously tapped my foot.

"Oh, am I keeping you from something?"

"Oh...no. It's just a nervous habit." I couldn't bring myself to say that I was impatient to get home.

"Really?" She seemed intrigued. "Have you ever tried to stop?"

I wasn't really interested in the conversation; I just wanted to get home. I shook my head no.

"I have a great method for breaking all kinds of habits. Let me show you." She went to a drawer in the kitchen and pulled out something that looked like a chopstick. What was it? What was she saying as she waved it around? I couldn't understand her words, but that wasn't my main concern as I felt myself start to sink down towards the floor. I realized too late, and my only method of escape was to slither in my new, scaly body toward the door.

"Well, now you don't have any feet to nervously tap!" she said triumphantly. "It's a little bit of a radical change. I didn't have to change Max that much to break his deadly scratching habits. The difference between a jungle cat and a house cat is chiefly one of size. But I think I accomplished your remedy quite well." She opened the door politely to let me go.