Solomon’s Wages

In “Anecdotal Tales”, stories will be told. Some will be fun, some will not. Some will be great, some will be less so. Some stories are true, some are merely possible. This is one of them.

Solomon’s Wages

In the course of human events there are certain things that have been found to be true and irrefutable.  Conflict will arise when cultures meet.  Men and women will have different views on almost every topic.  And you should never, ever, try to keep a cat from eating.

Solomon was a firm believer in this concept.  He felt that his duties were clearly establish, and therefore he should be reasonably compensated for his competency.  Also, that pay should come in a timely manner.  He was excellent at chasing imaginary objects around the room and then stopping to lick his tail at a moment’s notice.  He had done an incredibly thorough job of layering each and every cloth surface in his workplace with a thick sheet of hair.  (This was additionally true of any article of clothing, no matter how briefly it had been out of the drier.  And there was no one, no one that could meow as harshly and piercingly at random cars and noises quite like he could.  Since Solomon had yet to receive any feedback suggesting how he could improve his performance, it was his believe that the execution of his duties met with management’s satisfaction.  Yet, his food still remained on an unreliable delivery schedule.

The nineteenth of October retained an air of infamy for just such a reason.  Solomon had done his best to lounge all day.  He had basked in the sunlight that came through the glass windows and had soaked up all the rays that lit up the aged carpet.  A bird had appeared just as Solomon had been closing his eyes.  He had taken the initiative to roust himself from his well-deserved rest and jumped to the defensive.  He had run to the window and meowed defiantly at the intruder.  The bird, who had played its role well, had tried to feign a calm manner, but Solomon knew that he had invoked absolute terror into the birdbrain’s wretched soul.  It taken less than two hours for the bird to fly away and Solomon felt confident that his berating and threatening would prevent it from ever returning.  It was only after Solomon had meowed at the window a few more minutes in victorious declaration (followed, naturally, by a ceremonial licking of his main), that Solomon allowed himself to return to the task at hand.  Thus Solomon continued his scheduled sleep and remained focused on that task long after the sun had clocked out for the day.

Evening time came.  Night set in.  Solomon looked to the refrigerator in contemplation.  His cohort had left for his own mission hours ago.  Surely he would have clocked out by now.  (Solomon always clung to the notion that he was more dedicated to his assigned duties than his counter-part.  Solomon would do his best to ignore the man’s continued whining and lamenting when he called his friends to talk about “how things were going at work”.  Solomon never complained about all he had to do in one day and felt that the man could certainly do the same.)  He often wondered where the man’s priorities lay.  Solomon hadn’t asked to be stationed in this quadrant.  He was sure that his performance in the pound had been more than satisfactory.  He had purred at strangers and joined his comrades in howling at night into the wee small hours of the morning.  When the man had come and selected him, Solomon thought he was being promoted.  The rumbling in his empty stomach now questioned if he had committed some egregious wrong while stationed at the pound and this was some sort of punishment.  Was the management invoking some sort of home-arrest or solitary confinement that they had not informed him of?

The frogs outside slowed their croaking until they were silent.  The crowd of cars that had been making their commute home trickled down to a few errant vehicles.  Darkness had descended in its entirety.  Solomon had almost given up on being fed.  He leapt onto the cleanest corner of the bed that he could find and started kneading his paws in, preparing to sleep his hunger away.  However as he was completing his last circle, Solomon heard the familiar jingling of keys at the door.  His eyes wide open and alert, he hopped down to the floor and plodded quietly towards the coat closet.  From the other side of the large wood door came the noise of jingling and clattering.  Solomon meowed at the clumsiness of the human.  One day the fool would stop dropping his keys before unlocking the door.

Finally, the man pushed the door open, paying no attention to the placement of Solomon’s tail, and he let the door swing shut behind him.  His eyes were narrow slits and Solomon meowed louder in case his hearing was as hindered as his eyesight.  The man grumbled something in retort and Solomon followed.  The man put his umbrella down, threw his keys on the floor, and then flopped down on the nearest couch cushion.  Solomon would not let his needs go unnoticed.

Feeling that his oral presentation of his displeasure was not sufficient tonight, Solomon took decisive action.  He leant back on his rear legs, let his rear swoosh back and forth ever so slightly in preparation, and then he jumped onto the cushion that supported the man’s head.  Solomon got no response.  Solomon meowed in the man’s ear, but that too was met with no reply.  Solomon, a normally polite creature, felt that his primal techniques would have to be used, no matter how uncouth they were.  With that, he let his claws slide out by the pads of his feet, and he batted at the man’s face.  At first, there was still no response from the man.  But as Solomon’s berating continued, the human squirmed and raised his hand to his face.  When Solomon finally saw his eyes open, he returned his gaze with one of contempt and impatience.   He refused to hiss, but both parties knew that he was thinking it.

Grumbling and rubbing his eyes, the man stood up and pulled a can of food from the pantry.  Normally Solomon was only entitled to half a ration, but the man removed the lid from the small tin of food and set it on the floor in its entirety.  Solomon was not going to argue over getting an extra portion.  He quickly went to work devouring the food on the kitchen floor.  Solomon only partially registered the sound of the man shutting the bedroom door when the horrid notion struck his mind.  His hairs stood up on end and the indignation struck him full force.  The man had forgotten his bowl of milk!  Solomon scarfed down the last bits of food, already planning which claw to scratch at the door with.


About Cosand
He's a simple enough fellow. He likes movies, comics, radio shows from the 40's, and books. He likes to write and wishes his cat wouldn't shed on his laptop.

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