An Unwanted Visitor | Nick Lachmund

The world’s smartest cat confronts an unwelcome visitor.


An Unwanted Visitor

By Nick Lachmund

For The Kneel In The Grass, Bison Award


If Martin doesn’t change my litter tray soon, I’m going to scratch him in his sleep again. He’s gotten so fat and lazy since Angela left him that I can’t help but feel neglected. It’s as if I represent his failed relationship and he has started ignoring me in the same way that he ignores his pain. Fucking humans! They domesticate us but don’t take care of us when things go wrong. How are they the dominant species?

My attempts at instigating a cuddle from Martin tonight is going terribly. He keeps swatting me off the couch as he watches TV and drinks beer. I keep purring at him without success. To make matters worse, an alien spaceship has just landed in the backyard and Martin’s freaking out about it. Oh how I miss my couch cuddles with Angela. Nestling into her soft bosom was among my favourite activities, along with scratching the bottom of the couch and chewing on the washing machine chords. Perhaps if I go outside and get the alien to leave, Martin will reward me with a cuddle.

I am fly through my cat door at a gallop and approach the spacecraft slowly. A quick glance back reveals Martin, peeking through the venetian blinds cautiously. An urge to run grasps me as the metal ship noisily opens but I hold my ground. I am determined to get my cuddle tonight! A large green blob of a figure hovers in the open doorway before slowly gliding down to the grass in front of me. His large red eyes look down upon me.

A deep, booming voice somehow enters my head. “Hello, friend.” I look around but I can’t tell where the voice came from. “We come in peace.” The green blob extends two arm-like shapes two its side.
“Hello?” I ask in my head.
“Hello,” the booming voice replies.
Having the ability to accurately communicate with someone is a rare thing for a feline, so I pause to consider my next words carefully.

“You may come in peace,” I begin. “But you will not find it here.”
“Why do you say that, my small friend?”
“Quite simply,” my inner voice is slow and precise. “The people of this world do not practice peace. They tend to kill each other in mass numbers quite regularly.”
“Well,” the booming voice replies. “Perhaps this world needs the influence of a peaceful traveller, such as myself. I have been able to influence and calm a number of foreign worlds and inspire peace and harmony amongst their inhabitants. Surely I can positively inspire these people.”
“You may think that,” I purr wryly as I reply. “The people of earth don’t tend to take well to positive influences. In fact, most world leaders that have asked for peace have been voted out or violently disposed of. This is a world where wars are constantly fought in some areas while other areas feign ignorance. Part of this world is gripped by an obesity epidemic while another part is gripped by a starvation epidemic.”
“Surely, you cannot be serious,” the green blob’s booming voice breaks as he says.
“Sadly, I am.”

A few moments of silence follow as the green blob presumably weighs up his options. I glance back at Martin. My imagination begins to run wild with fantasies of patting and cuddling on the couch. I imagine Martin excitedly thanking me for getting rid of the blob and smiling like he did before Angela left. I will the green blob to leave us alone and make me the hero.

“Well,” the blob continues sadly. “Perhaps this world is beyond help. Thank you for your honest assessment, my friend.”

I nod at the blob as he reboards his ship and flies away. I bound back through the cat door and leap onto the couch. I eagerly await my congratulations. Martin approaches and I brace for contact. But the patting doesn’t come. Instead Martin waves me from the couch and picks up his beer. I look up at him with wide eyes but he ignores me and returns his attention to the TV. Fucking humans! I’m definitely scratching him tonight.

One thought on “An Unwanted Visitor | Nick Lachmund

  1. your opening line is spot on. I can here the emotions oozing from his wounded beating heart.

    do you read much bukowski?

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