Pet guy was on his bed, horribly sick, near death ---but pulled away from the end as he heard a voice.
“You’ve been in bed, sick, for seven days. Pet Guy, are you feeling better?” The voice said.
“Who’s talking to me? I’ve been hearing the most soothing, understanding, sensitive ‘being’. Where is that ‘being’. Where is that voice?” Pet Guy sat up to a vertical position. He was recovering ---because of a conversation with his cat?
He then heard the shuffling of papers, as if the voice was readying for a speech. Soon it was absolutely silent. It was, the moment! ---The defying moment Pet Guy had been waiting for ...all his life: To talk with a different species, especially his cat! Pet Guy heard a voice ask, “I need an interlocutor.”
“Who needs an interlocutor?” The voice made Pet Guy suddenly feel weak. In his confusion he was sure the sickness was back. But in his panic he screamed, “Who’s talking to me!”
“Pet Guy, it’s me, Stanford, your cat. You don’t need to scream.” Stanford was no less than three inches from Pet Guy’s face.
Stanford’s voice was the voice of a child’s, yet between the tiny vocal cords vibrating Pet Guy could heard incredible maturity. He looked up at the symmetry, Stanford’s face, beautiful, ruggedly handsome. And then the contrast: a little gray whisker completely different from his others!
“You need a what?” Pet Guy said, now calmer.
“I need an interlocutor.”
“I’m sorry, just one more time. You need a what?”
“You know, a ‘being’, a friend, a buddy to speak with. I need somebody to talk with. I want somebody on my side no matter what.”
“Stanford, those are big words, perfect words, such beautiful words. I want what you want. Why did you wait so long to speak them?” Pet Guy was now sure ‘the voice’ was Stanford, his cat. The color in his face came back, “I’ve been waiting almost a decade to speak with you. I needed you countless times.” Stanford’s thin black lips were opening and closing …oozing profundity! “But who uses the word ---interlocutor?”
“I do. Is the usage improper?”
“No it isn’t Stanford. I love that word. I can’t get enough of that word. My conversationalist, it feels so good to say that.” Stanford stretched his body to reach Pet Guy. Their noses touched like in a kiss. Stanford’s nose was wet.
“I thought this was the right time. That was a close one buddy.” His thin black lips parted, and he smiled, while Pet Guy smiled right back at him. “It was awfully close!” Stanford repeated
“What was a close one?”
“Your fever got extremely high. I wasn’t sure if you’d pull through. I wasn’t sure if we’d ever become interlocutors. I’m so glad you’re feeling better. I feared I had waited too long to speak. Two days ago you’re fever peaked at one-hundred and five.” He put his paw on Pet Guy’s forehead. “You’re fever is gone, what a relief!” Stanford almost crumbled with that realization. He took a huge breath and exhaled slowly. “No fever.”
“Can I say something that might embarrass you?” Pet Guy turned at an angle, making his face unobservable for Stanford.
“You couldn’t say anything that would embarrass me.”
“Can I say, only death will separate us?” Stanford jumped on the bed where Pet guy was lying. He put his paw on his forehead.
“Of course you can Pet Guy. Everything takes a lot of time, its tough work to be happy, but Pet Guy, together, we’ll have this!”
“Yes we will ---interlocutor!” Pet Guy said, as he grabbed Stanford to hug.
The End
