- Malcolm MacFursome


Hi my name is Malcolm MacFursome. I am a very brave kat and here is my story - told by Linda Hairington:.

My Hero - by Linda Hairington

The daffodils are blooming. I don't know what daffodils are but my person says they are blooming, whatever that is, so they must be. My person lives here with me but I must introduce myself! I am Princess Shaskita of the Royal Egyptian House of Bast. I have orange hair, champaygne colored eyes, and I am incredibly beautiful. I've told my person my name many times but she doesn't speak Meow very well and for some reason calls me Linda. I don't mind, she's not a bad person although she does take my birds from me; eats them herself I think. She lets me eat the mice, probably doesn't like them.

A big stupid looking white and striped Tom lives here too. He is not of royal blood. He's a plebian, a peasant of the lower ranks. I didn't like him for a long time but I have now decided he is all right, in fact, he is my hero, but I will tell you about that later. My person calls him Malcolm; he specializes in catching and eating white butterflies and is brilliant at annoying the next door yappers. He's so cool the way he does that; he just sits and stares at them until they go into a frenzy, yapping and jumping and banging their dumb heads against the fence. He keeps staring and staring and then he yawns in thier face. This sends them into convulsions, thier eyes bug out, they froth and twitch; the yapping reaches unbelievable heights. Then he whips his tail about and walks away and they twitch and yap at nothing for the longest time.

Another cool thing he does is get rid of big humans he doesn't like. Some big humans have little humans with them and it is best to leave when they come. When we see them approaching we rush inside and eat all our food before they eat it. One little human, the one with the deep voiced big human, is all right. I let her pat me and tell me how beautiful and wonderful I am. Some big humans don't like us and these are the ones Malcolm loves to work on. First he jumps onto the table where the human is having a cup of soemthing and, if there is a dish of butter on the table, he licks it. If there is butter on a slice of bread he licks that too. Then he makes himself all comfortable and proceeds to stare at the human until the human becomes uneasy. If the human doesn't leave, then he scratches his fleas in it's face, which often spills whatever the human is drinking. The next step is to lick his private parts with great gusto. If the human still hasn't left, well, he has a few last resorts which are absolutely gross. My sensibilities are too delicate to tell you about them, but usually the human has got the message and left by that time.

Now, I want to tell you why Malcolm is my hero. One day last week I was taking my usual mid-afternoon nap under the lemon tree. Suddenly I woke to find a horrible dog thing nearly upon me, snarling and grinning like they do. "I can't get away in time" I thought in panic, when, like a bolt of lightning, Malcolm leapt from somewhere right onto the brute's back. The dog thing forgot about me and, eyes rolling frantically, ran screeching and howling up the drive with Malcolm's claws firmly anchored in its shoulders. What a noise it made and how splendid Malcolm looked , with fangs displayed, ears flat back, tail like a bottle brush. He jumped off when they got to the main road, as humans were coming from all directions to see what the commotion was and, also, he didn't want to dull his claws any further on such a worthless specimen.

The dog thing ran on to somewhere and Malcolm swaggered about the yard stiff legged and bristling. Then he went inside and got in our person's lap and purred and purred, looking all smug and smirky. So you see he really is a hero! I hope, just because he savevd one of my lives, he is not expecting to get my place in front of the heater. After all his duty is to protect my royal self. I know what I'll do, I'll clean his ears for him, he likes that.



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