Short Story: Maine Coon Cat

Short Story: Maine Coon Cat

I met a Maine Coon cat in a massage parlour. Usually when you say such a thing people might well think that you are about to burst into song or tell them a joke, but I really did meet this Puss.

I opened the door of the Waiting Room and there he was in all his glory. I laughed at once because he was so bizarre and the very last thing on earth that I had expected to find at that moment.

I bent down to pat him. His fur was warm and thick, his back arched as he showed his appreciation.

He was the most enormous cat I had ever seen.

This magical beautiful Puss was in stark contrast to the unwelcome Black Dog who, for several days recently, had invaded my space, replacing all hope and light with a dull lifeless ache and footfalls of heavy tread with no point to the day.

Soon, hopefully, his fading shadow was to be massaged away rubbed out by firm hands and pungent oils, my shoulders and back to be released from their taut knotted state from having carried the brute Dog around for so long.

I sat down on the black leather sofa still smiling and watched as this vast extraordinary cat showed himself off to me. He was wonderful in every way, completely perfect. In cat parlance his fur was blue with white patches, soft as feathers or silk. His head was much bigger than any cat flap ever catered for and his whiskers looked like pretend.

He sat down in front of me and began to swish his tail from side to side sweeping the floor with effective silent strokes. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He had the biggest cat tail I had ever seen and huge immense fat paws. He was completely glorious.

I could have kept my pyjamas in him.

Puss stopped his floor sweeping and stared at me with his hypnotic pools of emerald green, willing me not to turn away. I sat at the edge of the sofa consciously still, barely moving an eyelash lest Puss should be distracted. Then, without warning, Wham! He flew through the air and landed on me all four legs full square. My instant reaction was to jerk backwards and I found myself lying on the sofa, my legs splayed out from the knees on the floor in front of me.

I laughed out loud as he stood on my middle staring down at me with his absurdly large eyes. This was some seriously cool Cat!

I stroked his back which pleased him enormously, and he began to make an extraordinary noise. I had always thought that all cats purred, but not this one, he chirruped like a little bird; chirrup, chirrup, and more chirrup!

He began to knead me like dough, stepping up and down with his great feline paws, all the while looking deep into my eyes as he did so.

I was utterly transfixed not only by his presence but also by his kneading. I didn’t want him to stop; blissful, comforting, cosy stomping up and down on my middle, on and on, its real purpose known only to him.

I was being seduced by a pyjama case and I needed to be kneaded.

After a while he stopped his stomping, lay down still on top of me with his face almost level with mine so close that I could feel his breath, his huge tail, arching back and forth from side to side, performing a dance all of its own.

Then Puss did a truly miraculous thing.

He slid himself in one fluid movement further up my chest and I felt his body suddenly stiffen as he, reaching out with a massive paw, swiped at the air twice above my shoulder making a strange guttural sound as he did so, then, flopping down again like a massive animal duvet, he snuggled his face beneath my chin and began to lick my neck with his tarmac tongue.

My heart raced within me, furnace heat suffused my neck, as tears pricked my eyes and fell. I put my arms around him holding him tight, my body giving an involuntary judder as I breathed in deeply burying my face into his blue fur.

He was a seriously cool cat this Massage Parlour Puss.

A cat at the end of a tail.