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Crookshanks had been happily batting a puff of lint down the hallway that morning when he heard the terrible popping noise that meant some ugly hairless creature violently appeared to bother his mistress. He slunk to the top of the stairs to listen. It wasn’t a voice Crookshanks knew very well so he decided he must investigate. Mistress might be in danger, and in need of his particular skill set; he slunk stealthily down the stairs and waited, listening for the opportune moment to strike.
It was that new, pale, blond one. Well not new so much. Crookshanks had realized since the first time his mistress had brought the pale one home, the night of horror and mayhem. All those loud hairless intruders. Including the orange one who smelled like sausage, grass, and old wet socks. Crookshanks was glad when that one displeased his mistress enough that she stopped letting him come over.
His mistress left the room and headed toward the stairs. He perked up as he always did when he saw her; she was the most lovely creature. She scratched him affectionately between the ears, as she always did. He leaned into her touch and brushed her ankles before she headed on her way, leaving the blond one in the living room alone, unsupervised. This would not do.
Crookshanks slunk into the living room, peeking around the edge of the door frame and made eye contact with him. Crookshanks decided he needed to make sure that the intentions of this creature were not evil. The pale, blond one held his gaze as Crookshanks marched up to him. The pale one started to squirm, looking rather uncomfortable. Excellent, just the effect Crookshanks hoped to have. Crookshanks leapt gracefully into his lap to better ascertain the measure of this man.
Crookshanks did recognize him now, though he was a much older version of himself. This one had been at the big castle full of horrid smelling screeching creatures. Though he had always managed to look as though he had been taught to groom himself. His downside was that at one time he was rather rude to his mistress but now Crookshanks could see that she liked him enough and he made her smile. Crookshanks also knew this one was sad when he thought no one was around. He also smelled nice. More than Crookshanks could say for the orange one or even the one with the meager hair that stuck out at odd angles. Clearly the creature had never been trained to properly groom himself.
He decided finally he liked this one better than the one with the orange hair. Crookshanks had tried for his mistress to be kind to that creature who smelled like cheese, but he was never appreciative when Crookshanks tried to kill that nasty rat that followed him around. Most unsettling.
Crookshanks continued to stare into his face, and he continued to squirm. This pale creature with a disturbing lack of body hair seemed uncomfortable, but he didn't seem to have malicious intent. In fact, this hairless creature seemed to truly love his mistress. Though Crookshanks was sure he didn’t know it yet. Crookshanks approved of this one and to show his approval he yowled loudly and proudly, to which the ungrateful, hairless creature abruptly stood, tossing Crookshanks off his lap. Very very rude, but Crookshanks decided he would likely forgive him. His mistress came back into the room then, radiant as the sun, laughing and saying something in that gibberish that they spoke, to the tall pale one. Then as she always did to herself, she removed all the fur Crookshanks had lovingly bestowed upon this new friend. Crookshanks had never shared his precious fur with the disgusting orange one. Why did these creatures not seem to understand that it was a gesture of love and affection? He yowled in protest but it was no use. His mistress only laughed before coming over and scratching Crookshanks in the way that he liked best. He begrudgingly began purring because he couldn’t stay mad at her.