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The problem is quite simple. Sassy is bored. Out of her mind. And she could really use a snack - despite what Dad said the other day about watching her weight and not putting too much stress on her joints. She was an active cat with curves, and Max really ought to know better! It wasn't like she made fun of his weight gain in the off-season. Maybe she should start nibbling his "side rolls" (Max's words, not hers) if he dares to make another comment about her weight.
Then again, maybe she won't. Her normally good-humoured Pappje had frowned at Dad's self-deprecating comment and turned his nose up in the air. ("You look perfect to me," he insisted, a dangerous glint in his eyes.)
Speaking of Pappje, she nudges Charles with her right paw, mewling softly into his ear.
Those baked mackerel cookies were to die for. Screw Max.
Pappje mumbles something unintelligible and buries his face deeper into the pillow. Sassy nudges him again, but he goes back to snoring softly into the cream fabric.
Defeated, Sassy decides to join him for a nap.
How dare he!? Sassy nibbles his nose sharply.
.
.
The sun is well below the horizon by the time both of them rejoin the world of the living. Charles yawns and arches his back like an oversized cat. Sassy flicks her tail irritably. About time.
After another excruciating thirty seconds that consisted mostly of the human scrunching his face, rubbing his eyes furiously, and attempting to shake the sleepiness out of his expression, he finally pulls himself into an upright position. Before his feet could even touch the cool wooden floor, the shrill ring of the doorbell echoes through the apartment.
Curious who could be visiting, Sassy putters after him.
.
.
A pair of green eyes shot open. A howl of surprise echoed through the room. Charles grabs his face with a plaintive whine.
"Sassy!"
She blinks at him with her best innocent look. That's what he gets for ignoring her.
.
.
The door swings open and reveals Lando, accompanied by a sombre looking stranger that Sassy did not recognize.
"Oscar?" A note of surprise coloured Pappje's voice. "Max didn't tell me you were in town."
He spends the next few seconds darting his eyes between Lando and Oscar before Sassy's gentle nudge against his ankle beckons him to remember his manners once again. He steps to the side to allow entry to the visitors.
Lando mumbles a thanks but not before blushing a little. "I was just showing him around Monte Carlo," he babbles.
Once his shoes are off, Sassy greets him with a gentle nibble of his little toe. In response, Lando gives her a gentle scratch between the ears. She would have normally purred and demanded more pets, but she had a new mission. The stranger.
The one called Oscar kneels down next to her, reaching a hand towards her - not fearfully but not demanding either. She cautiously edges forward to sniff his fingers. A gentle waft of lemon soap and something else fill her nostrils; it was not unpleasant. He interprets her curiosity as an invitation and rubs the underside of her chin gently.
"Hello, my little queen," he greets her with a formal shake of her paw. "Thank you for having us over."
"No problem," replies Pappje as if the gratitude was directed at him. Sassy didn't mind; Charles always interpreted everything as if he were at the centre of the universe. She was used to it by now.
But Oscar! Oh, she likes him already! His speech was closer in intonation with Lando's than either Dad's or Pappje's, but the accent was less whiny than Lando's. Perhaps Oscar comes from a less whiny region of Uncle Lando's home country of England? And moreover, he understood that this was Sassy's home. For that alone, she decides, he would be welcome anytime.
.
.
There are still five baked mackerel treats left on the plate on the counter. But blast it, it seems like either Max or Charles had moved the barstools the previous evening and never moved them back. Which meant the counter was somewhat out of her reach. Still, she had to try.
She could hear Pappje in the hallway talking to Lando. Happy that Charles would be distracted with their visitor, she decides to focus on her all important goal: get those treats.
Sassy leaps. She just misses.
She takes a running start. Her claws catch the edge of the counter, but it's too slippery and she loses her grip.
She tries again. And again.
It was no good. She growls in frustration, ready to stalk away.
And that's when a pair of hands reaches above her and grabs the plate, putting it down on the floor in front of her.
"This must be yours."
She looks up and is greeted by a stranger's face. He pushes the plate closer to her. It was the colourful ceramic one that Charles gave her after coming home from 'pottery class with maman.' The weird orange/brown/black blob at the centre of the plate was supposed to be her, but it was hideous. Pappje was no good at arts and crafts, but it was the thought that mattered.
Purring a cautious thanks, she grabs one of the treats between her teeth and starts nibbling away. Her eyes remained fixed on the stranger as she chewed.
She needs to do some more research, but so far - this visitor wasn't so bad.
"Sassy - what are you -"
Oh shoot, Pappje was back.