Feline housemate worried about new addition

Husband-and-wife journalists Bob Miller and Callie Clark Miller use this space to offer their views on everyday issues. Today the space was hijacked by their feline companion, Scoop.

April 1, 2008: Could this be an April Fools' Day joke? Mom and Dad have never had particularly refined senses of humor, but that bundle of blankets they constantly carry around keeps making funny high-pitched noises. I can't get close enough to investigate further; every time I try, they shoo me away.

April 5, 2008: It lives. I've no idea what manner of creature Mom and Dad have dragged home. At first, I thought It a medium-sized feline, based on Its mewling and propensity for cuddling. However, It lacks the proper fur and has no tail to speak of. It's not a bird; I've yet to see the creature take flight. There is no barking, as from a dog. Further examination is needed.

May 15: 2008: Perhaps It is a very large bug. I have witnessed dying insects floundering on their backs, little legs twitching in all different directions. This one does just that, whenever Mom places It on a mat on the floor. And speaking of that mat -- the creature has taken over the household! It is given the softest, fluffiest blankets, and I am not allowed to curl up in them. And worse, I have been unceremoniously evicted from my boudoir. No longer can I take my rightful sleeping place on Dad's back or Mom's chest. Every time I turn around, It is there instead, and I am forced to curl up in the tiniest ball on the furthest corner of the bed, so as to escape notice lest I be shooed again.

May 30, 2008: I believe I have discerned the top of It from the bottom. Most of Its noises come from the round part with the small tuft of hair, though the muffled grunts that occasionally emit from the other end do complicate the issue. It smells poorly as well. Even Mom and Dad have commented on the odor every so often, though this has not seemed to dim their admiration for the creature. The trash, which I have so enjoyed sniffing through in the past, has taken on the scent and ruined even this small pleasure for me.

June 16, 2008: The creature is growing. I've now made several dangerous excursions into Its vicinity, enough to see the fat rolls hanging from Its skin. And no wonder. Mom and Dad are up at all hours feeding the thing. Meanwhile, my food and water bowl can be found sitting empty at times. This never happened before the great April Fools' Joke came home, and I am forced to get their attention by attempting to trip them as they come down the stairs. It is a fairly effective technique.

June 25, 2008: I begin to think It has brains. Every time It glimpses Fletcher, that irritating male feline, It howls in anger. I commiserate. Mom and Dad have shown no waning of attention for the creature. I have given up hope that It will go back from where It came. Its presence here has become somewhat routine now, though I am jealous that The Parents take It with them when they leave every day, while I am left at home.

July 1, 2008: It smells like Mom. And Dad. I snuck close enough recently to sniff Its head, under the pretense of kissing It. Mom and Dad seemed to have no objection, so I took the liberty of curling up near It, for closer observation. I have become rather fond of It now, though the creature continues to howl at all hours of night. When It cries, I come running to ensure Mom and Dad are tending It well, especially since their tending of me has suffered so in recent weeks. As long as It stays relatively immobile, I think we shall get on fine.

Scoop Miller lives in Jackson and manages to tolerate her landlords, Southeast Missourian managing editor Bob Miller and special publications editor Callie Clark Miller. Scoop is a former resident of the Humane Society of Southeast Missouri and enjoys chasing red laser lights around the living room.