Too much i’ the sun

In the morning, Mr. Smit-tit-tee likes to go out to the uncovered part of the porch and lie in the sun. As the sun moves across the stairs, Mr. Smitty gets up and keeps moving into it until there’s no more sun on the stairs or until the Smitty gets too hot and has to retreat into the covered porch where The Misters are having their coffee and such.

“Mister Smity like to be in the sun.”

“Mister, he does.”

“Like That Mister.”

“Mister.”

“Mister and Mister Smitty like to sit in the sun in the morning.”

“Mister, we do. Right, Mr. Smitty?”

White-Out

Mr. Smitty is in his bed!

Mr. Smitty likes his bed. He likes to clean hisself in his bed and he likes to lie in it with all his littl’ feets tucked up under his chin and his tail there too – and sometimes just the very tip of his tail lifts slightly in a little drowsy-kine wag.

Mr. Smitty!

That’s when I can kiss all the Smitty’s feets, and cheek, and tail -- all at the same time with one kiss! Mr. Smitty!

The Misters like it when Mr. Smitty is in his bed because then he’s not perpetratin’ That Mister’s chair – and because Mr. Smitty looks cute in his bed because it’s made of white shag carpet-kine stuffs and it matches the Smitty who is all white, too!

Collar Questioning

The M: Mr. Smitty, Mr. Smitty, Mr. Smitty: Do you remember your red collar?

Mr.S: (quiet eyes)

The M: Did you stash it somewhere?

Mr.S: (looks away)

The M: Did you reject it because it was all synthetical?

Mr.S: (still looking away, right ear flaps)

The M: Did you hook it on something so you could get rid of it?

Mr.S: (still; no flapping)

The M: Aha! We’re getting somewhere. Did you get it hooked on something and have to get out of it in order to free yoh-salfe, Mr. Smitty?

Mr.S: (playing his cards close to his chest, as always)

The M: Was the Smitty in mortal dangers? Did the Smitty barely make it out alive? Was the Smitty a heroical Smitty?

Mr.S: (quiet eyes, letting the human express what it needs to)

The M: O Mister Smitty! (hugs the Smitty)

Collar

Now that The Misters are plunged into the Should-Mr.Smitty-have-a-flea-collar Crisis, it has made This Mister remember something: At one time in his early days with The Misters, Mr. Smitty HAD A COLLAR!

It was red, made of cloth like those white cloth belts we had in the 70’s with the two chrome-colored rings you’d loop the belt through? (kind of like the Boy Scouts belts -- ‘cept they were khaki, know-what-I’m-sayin’? yeah…yeah.) But Mr. Smitty’s red collar was all synthetical and shiny like the new belts you get today with the chrome rings but are not made of dull cotton anymore but are plasticky and all multi-colored and…
“ANY-way!”

What happened to that red collar?

I’ll ask Mr. Smitty!

First Flea

Mr. Smitty has a flea!

Today I discovered the first-ever flealike critter on Mister Smit. T.T.’s right ear (outside, not on the inside). I say “flealike” because I don’t remember the last time I saw a flea…

No. I’m lying: I remember dog fleas on Koa. They were huge, puffed-up, distended (a word I mostly associate with hemorrhoids). When his owners were away, I had to pick them off of him and squish them with my nails. Gross! (But like all gross things, once you get used to it, you become immune to the grossness – you become an insider to it, an initiate to its gross mysteries.) Mr. Smitty is the opposite of gross.

“ANY-way…”

Mr. Smitty’s lone flea was a slender black speck of a thing – I thought it was a speck until, in trying to comb it out of his hair, I saw that it was moving!

Should I get Mr. Smitty a collar?

The First Time I Saw the Smitty

Actually, I actually saw the Smitty one time before he became my Smitty. I was closing up the theater and when I went to look in the Green Room, there was the Smitty lying on a blue mover’s-kine towel-thingee on top of the new washer we hadn’t installed yet.
The Smitty (not his name at that time) got up in a tired way with this look in his eyes like,

“you’re not going to really make me leave on a cold night like this, are you? “

It’s funny, cause I remember not moving – so as not to frighten the Smitty or alarm him – to let him know, I guess, that I could see he was all settled in for the night and not hurting anyone. It was sweet: my first encounter with the Smitty found me to be a kindly Mister.

Plus, I guess I thought he might catch a mouse or two that was plaguing the building at the time!

Meeting the Smitty Halfway

My Kaho’olawe wife is always ak-sing me about how the Smitty is doing. (She gave us the Smitty in the first place because it was perpetratin’ her office and she wanted it to have a home).

“How’s Mr. Smitty?” (sometimes she says it in a british accent)

“He’s great!

Then there’s always this pause – like, “give me some details, tell me a story” – so I talk about how whenever the Misters come back in the truck, the Smitty comes down the stairs and halfway out across the lawn and waits for the Misters. And he makes a couple of “mebs” sounds – just a couple.

Then, when the Misters get to him, he RUNS back up to the porch and waits by the door (even though we put his food outside when we leave for long periods). Such a funny Smitty!

“He is like a good a loyal dog!” said The Mister.

“Except dogs don’t just stand there in your way and make you go around them,” said The Mister.

“Shoots!”

Songs That Have Secret Lyrics About Mr. Smitty

The Misters like to sing songs to Mister Smitty by perpetratin’ the words like this:

(To be sung to the tune of “Take a Chance on Me” by ABBA:)

“Mister Smit-tit-tee, Mister Smit-tit-tee,
Mister Smit-tit-tee, Mister Smit-tit-tee,
Mister Smit-tit-tee-tee-tee, Mister Smit-tit-tee,
Mister Smit-tit-tee-tee-tee, Mister Smit-tit-tee!

When you’re all alone with a Smit-tit-tee,
Mr. Smitty says, Take a chance on Smitty”

Another good one from an ABBA song is:

“Smit-tit-tee-ta, You and I know –
La-la-la-la, la-la, la-la-la;

Mmm-mm-mm, mm-mm,
Sing a new song, Smit-tit-tee-ta”

Ok, that’s not as good. Whattevahs!!!

Mister Smitty the Hunter

Mister Smitty was adventurizing just now in the tall grass. You could only see his ears, the top of his head, and his tail – until he was jumping and cavorting and going into his hunting moves and stillnesses. The Smitty dropped down so you could only see his ears and then –

He Popped up and
Pounced on something
– chonch mouse kine-thing …
“ANY-way!!”
Mister Smitty is a hunter-smitty!
Good Smitty!

Which Brush is Best?

The Misters talk about their three cat brushes:

This Mister: This Mister got to brush Mr. Smitty today in the morning. This Mister used the old-kine-style cat brush with the tiny-kine tines (mo’bettah for brush, yah?)

That Mister: The other one works good, too. Shoots!

This Mister: Mister’s sister’s brush?

That Mister: Shoot!

This Mister: Shoot!

That Mister: Has Mister used the net glove-thingee yet?

This Mister: Mister, I scared aw-ready. Has Mister?

That Mister: Shoot. Once or twice.

This Mister: Mister, it’s weird.

That Mister: It works though. Shoots!