Halloween isn’t the best time for kitties, from trick-or-treaters shrieking on the porch to those who want to use black cats as costume accessories (and worse). So I asked my cat, Stella, about our game plan for the Halloween holiday.
Stella, Halloween is coming up, and we need to make a plan.
I know! I need an industrial fan, 10,000 cotton balls and a shaved-ice machine STAT.
I’m going as the polar vortex.
I was thinking more of a quiet evening nestled in the back closet.
You celebrate however you want. I’m going to be blasting fools with hazardous weather all night.
No, I want YOU in the back closet, Stella, where it’s nice and safe.
Nice and safe? But this is Halloween!
I know, and sometimes bad people do not-nice things to sweet kitties on Halloween.
Why are you talking to me like I’m a baby?
I’m trying not to scare you. Scaring people is the POINT — in my case, scaring fools with localized storm conditions followed by an air siren.
Air siren? AOOOOGAH. The all-clear signal, right in the kisser.
That’s not a very nice thing to do.
But I’m the polar vortex, the terror of 2014.
Listen, I’ll put the TV in there. We can snuggle on a blanket and watch Real Housewives all night.
Alternatively, you can dress up as the storm of the century, and we can reign terror up and down the block. We’ll need more ice.
I like my idea better. We’ll turn off the porch light and settle in for —
You are NOT turning off the porch light! Do you know how many people besides the mailman have come to the door this year?
You’ve been counting?
I’ve hardly had to. The number is THREE.
True, I haven’t been feeling very sociable.
And now, when we’ll finally get a little action around here, you want to shut it all down.
Huh, I hadn’t thought about it that way.
I can see how you’d enjoy seeing more people. To blast them with sleet.
Forget the sleet. How about this: From 5 to 6, we’ll hand out treats. Deal?
That’s toddler time! Can we please wait for the high school kids? It won’t feel like Halloween unless I hiss at a teen in a Scream mask.
Fine. Then we hit the closet.
after we egg the Hendersons. Their Ragdoll needs to get what’s coming to her.
We are not egging anyone. You’ve been watching too many ’80s movies.
Man, you’re no fun. Can I at least make the closet a haunted house?
Fine. Wait — what does that entail?
For starters, your credit card number and 10 minutes online.
How about we just light a candle?
Great idea. That way we can see all the bones.
Bones? From the butcher shop.
You’ve never been in a haunted house, have you?
Man, Stella. Most cats just want to spend Halloween under the couch.
Sad, isn’t it? Make sure you invite the mailman. I’m going to turn his hair WHITE.
Eleven-year-old Stella, a Bengal, has a firm grip on her handler, freelance writer Michael Leaverton, whom she rescued from an alt weekly many meals ago. They live in San Diego.
Thumbnail: Photography ©Natashia_Pankira | Getty Images; ©jojo100 | Getty Images.