Fishing for Dreams

Flopping on the back of the ripped sofa, Binx looked at Klaws who was sleeping. “Borrred,” she caterwauled. He didn’t move even. Binx swiped at him lazily and upped the octave, “Borrrred.” Klaw’s whiskers did not even twitch. “BOOOORRRRED,” she bellowed.

One eye opened as Klaws looked up at her, “So what? You are always bored and hungry.” He thought for a bit. “And I’m always sleepy, but I am also guessing you won’t let me sleep much, now will ya?” His speaking caused her to perk happily. Batting her eyes, she seemed bright-eyed without any evidence of exhaustion. With a slight motion in her direction, he said, “Come here and rub my tummy. It itches.” He wriggled a bit in place and closed both eyes again, “It will give you something to keep yourself busy.” Obviously, he was too lazy to use his own paws.

Binx slipped down and scratched his belly. Klaws purred loudly as his wish was granted, and occasionally, he reached up to give her tummy a soft pat. While scratching, she said, “Dancing?” A small pause, then she said, “Hunting?” She felt annoyed when there was not even a slight twitch of interest from him. Falling silent, she scratched a bit more with a hint of claws. Knowing that silence means nothing good, both of his eyes opened and he examined the situation before jumping up and pouncing her with a mighty “RAWR.”

Pouncing him back playfully, she repeated, “Dancing? Hunting? Play?” While waiting him to answer, she climbed him like a jungle gym.

Dropping to the floor, he rolled about with her and pawed at her tail. “Yes.” Sitting up, he mauled her slightly before licking his paw while looking her over. “Let’s go dance hunting…and you can scratch my tummy some more.” He said it like it was a huge gift.

She pulled to her feet and hopped over his tail like it was a jump rope. “Dance, dance, dance! Wherrrrre?” Klaws shrugged and told her that he did not wish to go to a fancy place – not that either had the clothing for somewhere fancy anyway. Then, without telling her where they were going, he dashed off telling her to race him. Both practically ran over those standing on the first floor of the abandoned fish market as they dashed down the street.

Klaws was momentarily concerned when he seemed to lose her. Retracing his steps, he saw her on the breakwater with a fishing pole. Walking to Binx, he asked, “Have you ever successfully used that thing?” She explained that you simply bagged fish and let them bake in the sun for a few days. With a shake of his head, he tapped the pole. “That thing,” he said indicating the fishing device.

Looking at the fishing pole, Binx mewed, “How hard can it be? You throw string in the water and fish get tangled in it.”

Klaws repeated, “So have you caught anything with it before…and where on Earth did you find it?” He examined the hook to see whether anything was dangling from it, but only found rust.

“I found it on the boat by the fish market,” Binx replied. “And I saw pictures one time long ago…and people use to fish off of the dock back home.” She also looked at the rusty hook. “So, the fish…they get tangled in the string and then, when you pull, you HOOK them!” She smiled fully understanding as she gestured out the explanation.

“Hmm,” said Klaws. “Okay, let’s start with the basics. Number one: You need to LURE the fishy to the hook somehow. And I don’t think they like rust too much, but usually you use bread. Some idiots will use yummy shrimps.” He raised his hands in complete confusion why anyone would waste shrimps. “The other thing is: Have you ever seen fish here? No? They are allllllll deeeeaaaaaadddd!”

Binx whipped the pole around some listening. “You don’t want to eat live ones so dead is good. Especially after they have set in the sun for a few days wrapped in plastic. YUM. We like dead fishies. We can even dry the scales and eat them like potato chips.”

Klaws face-palmed for a moment and patted her rump. “Okay…just curious how the fish will get on the hook if they are dead. Don’t mind me. I will just watch how you do it and pat your rump.” Letting his claws show barely, he raked them over her skin lightly.

Peering in the water, Binx pouted. “Well, if they don’t have fish in the water, then where are they? The diner has square fish. And they were likely caught with bread cause they have bread all over them!” She could feel her plans for fish slipping away and wondered how he learned about fishing.

“Don’t worry, Binx. I will get you fishies.” He scratched her tummy and then her back down to where her tail met her bottom. “Just not out of the water,” Klaws said. “Just like catnip, we will get them with ‘special services.’ All we need to do is find a new dealer, I believe.” Both went silent as they last time they saw the catnip dealer, he was running down the street pretty fast.

Binx furrowed her brow thinking about having no cred or currency. She knew few were worth stealing from. With a shudder she mouthed ‘jobs’, which caused Klaws to blink and paw away the thought. “Jobs are for humans…and dumb people. I have my kitty right here and I don’t need anything else! Just some food…and somewhere to sleep.” He scratched his head and then exclaimed, “Catnip!” Nodding repeatedly, he licked her nose chuckling.

Binx forgot the fishing pole and stretched rubbing against him. “Catnip.” With a soft sigh, she said, “Nothing grows here either.” She looked in the direction of the ferry. “Just me, you, food, sleep, and dancing. And catnip.”

Klaws rubbed his chin over her head, which he only did when he was feeling very protective of her. “We will own this town before the summer is over.” Thinking a bit, he added, “And then…maybe we will have our own torn couch to sleep on!” He nodded once move and kissed her forehead licking her fur clean at the same time.

Binx looked up at him with wide-eyes daring to hope! “Our OWN torn-up couch???” She bit her lower lip and murred against him while he nuzzled. Petting him softly, she cuddled up forgetting all about fishies for a while and focused on the new dream.