Tales Of Miss Doom - Leaving For Vacation

There was much traffic up and down the stairs; pounding footfalls refused to let the sleeping cat sleep. Little calico tabby ears flicked constantly, shooing away the thump of each step.

After ten minutes of fitful rest, Miss Doom lifted her head to investigate the commotion. Set to voice her displeasure, she opened her mouth and eyes simultaneously, only to freeze, stock still, at the sight before her eyes: her humans were carrying travel bags and pillows down to the front door.

Instantly awake, her fur fluffed as she flew off the couch, jumping immediately atop the first bag she could reach. It was not luck that it happened to still be open - it was her pet's habit to finalize his packing moments before walking out the door.

Into the open bag she crawled, squeezing effortlessly between a stack of shirts and a pair of rolled jeans. With ill-hid anger, she glared at her pet and his mate as they came down the stairs again. The girl came first and, predictably, made a soothing noise at Miss Doom.

Frustrated that advances in science fell short of translating human sounds into recognizable speech patterns, she flicked her tail and flattened her ears. As the two bent near, she jumped and hissed, "This is NOT acceptable! You are NOT allowed to leave!"

Unable to suppress her anger, and afraid she would lash out and strike her precious pets, Miss Doom ran quickly behind the nearest piece of furniture to sulk. She turned her back on her humans as the front door opened, closed, and the lock clicked.

She did not fear they would run away, nor did she worry for their safety; simply, she disliked being left behind and missed the added warmth in the bed at night.

As the sounds of their engine died into the distance, she crept out of her hiding spot and slunk off to the kitchen to drown her problems with a smidge of hidden cream.

Tales Of Miss Doom - The Ward

He awoke sometime in the mid-morning. He had scarfed down breakfast, ate until some kibble came back up, then gorged on more. Miss Doom trained her humans well, he thought, They leave me plenty of food. But as he sat staring at the self-refilling gravity feeder, he realized he was no longer hungry. Instead, he was bored. It was a boredom so deep that the thought of more kibble did not quell his idle mind.

He sat back on his haunches and studied his paw. Grey fur filled his face, blinding him to the mess of kibble-explosion on the floor. Hmm, clean. No bath needed. But what to do? He questioned himself, pondering all the activities he did daily. Eating had lost its luster, bathing was a chore for his eighteen pounds of fluff, he had no desire to dig his favorite ball from under the couch, and the male human was not home to attack. His options were limited. Then he had a mischievous spark and smirked.


Miss Doom lay curled atop a piece of partly shredded paper. She was not asleep, merely thinking, envisioning her thoughts as reality. The house was quiet, perfect for a bit of relaxing contemplation. Her eyes drifted to the holes and shreds in the paper, her code tapped out by tooth and fang. It was only a rough draft, the fourth revision this week. She found a flaw, not in the words, but in the plan itself. She sighed as she sat up, her tail wrapping around her legs.


He crouched, watching her back. He rolled his shoulders and twitched his tail, silent. Today is the day, he told himself as he braced for launch. This would not be the first attempt at a sneak attack, but it would also not be the first successful surprise attack, either. As a cat, he had stealth, but he was young and still needed practice with surprise. Twice last week he had caught her off guard. She had not been as thrilled as he, but he did not let that deter him from trying again.

He released the air from his lungs, cleared his mind, and jumped...

...right into her swinging tail. She had spun so quickly he had no chance to escape landing on her paper after a harsh tail thrashing. Her teeth sank into his ear as he skid by, stopping only when his bulky weight slammed into the back cushion of the couch.

Children! she shrieked internally. They ruin everything and make it so difficult to plan world domination!

Aloud, she chided him on his poor timing and even poorer placement. Her soft voice rang clear, "Sampson! If you had bothered to bathe, or at least decided to stand downwind, then you might have had a better shot." Her tail thumped the couch, the only visible indication of her annoyance.

The overlarge juvenile kitten bowed before her was not her offspring; somewhere along the way, after adopting her human and allowing him a mate, she somehow managed to find herself in charge of a stray puffball. She remembered what it was like to be orphaned and let him stay, although after attempting to train him, she was beginning to give up on having an able apprentice. This thought flitted through her mind once more, turning her stern visage into that of a disappointed teacher.

He cowed, mewled his apologies, and slunk off to his hiding space beneath the bed, presumably to bathe and sulk. She looked down at her paper once more and her frown deepened. Such potential, and yet such destructive tendencies. She pushed her ruined notes onto the floor, her mood spoiled for plotting to take over the world.

Tales Of Miss Doom - Chasing The Sun

She awoke when the first bird chirped in the predawn glow. After wondering if it would be worth a fruitless hunt to find the critter, she unfurled herself and stretched. The bedroom was still dark and the pillow was cozy and warm. But it was losing warmth now that fresh air had settled between her belly and the blanket; it was time to chase the sun.

Silently she jumped from the bed, landing into a slow sauntering gait down a path leading to the open bedroom door. She yawned as she walked, sparing no time to chance a stop.

The bird chirped louder as more birds awoke to answer his call. If I could find them... she thought to herself as she began her descent down the single flight of stairs. Oh, who am I kidding? I like their warnings of the approaching light!

At the bottom step, she looked around. The room was brighter, but the sun had yet to reach the window. Yes, plenty of time to enjoy breakfast, she thought, pleased. She glanced around once more, watching for any other creatures that might be present, and, upon finding none, she darted past the couch, down the hall, and out into the garage. She slipped past the sleeping mice and stepped into a box.

Less than a minute later she was scraping litter, Not bad, almost a new record. Note to self: less water before bed. I don't need to waste more time before the sun shines down. With the last push of her paw, she returned down the hall, but turned into the kitchen. Her food remained where she had left it, and was even undisturbed. She smiled as she started to nibble, I should really give those grey things a treat. They make wonderful pets when trained properly.

The chittering outside the window grew louder as she sat eating. She flattened her ears to dampen the annoyance, but could not completely ignore the incessant noise. She took a long drink of water to wash down her Kitty Kibble and lifted her head to the back door window. Her entire back yard was full of birds, some small, some large, and many different sizes in between. She huffed and her tail swatted back and forth. They speak gibberish! At least those grey things can be taught to speak! More fluttered down from the trees and landed in the shadows of the fence.

Shadows of the fence? That means.... She turned toward the living room and her large comfortable couch. THERE! YES! Above the couch, a few feet up the wall, was the bright spot that promised warmth. Quick calculations indicated it would meet the couch at a slight ten-degree angle, counter-clockwise from its current position. She jumped up onto the back of the couch in the exact location she predicted the sunlight to land and stretched out to achieve the maximum potential of the free heat.

Her math was correct and the sun landed directly across her midsection, fanning outward the proportional dimensions of the east facing window. She closed her eyes, smiling, and napped.

As with every sun-filled day, she spent the rest of the morning rolling with the sun, basking in the warm light.

Tales Of Miss Doom - The Moth

This story is dedicated to the memory of Pandora, our "Kitten Of Doom"
November 1996 - July 2010



She was lost. This area was wrong, all wrong. The sunlight filtered funny and the air...the air was stale. No, not stale, it just tasted odd as it filled her mouth.There was something blocking her escape, as well. She knew she had come from the south, but there was something strange keeping her from returning. And it was quiet. Too quiet for comfort; she could not hear her people, the breeze through the trees, or the birds chirping. Nothing. The only noise filling her head was the sound of her blood pumping too rapidly, the thump of her body hitting the invisible wall, and her wings blowing the still air over her tiny body.

Hope drained as realization sank in that she was forever trapped, never again to see her family. Her altitude dropped slowly, as she contemplated the implications of being taken from those that loved her. As she lowered, she learned the invisible wall grew out of a plank of wood, ashen, from...a fire? It smelled different than burned wood, but maybe that was the effect of the strange thing growing? There were many altering symbiotic lifeforms, could it be possible she, a simple little moth, stumbled across a new species? Before excitement could bubble too high, her world went black. She was dead before she could feel the wetness of the tongue that slurped her out of the air.

That tongue belonged to another creature who had been watching the moth dance. This creature had had many thoughts of her own as she watched the moth flit around the door, one of which was a self inquiry of whether the little buzzy thing would taste good.

Yes, she told herself, it was reasonably tasty, if not a little dry. Her ears remained perked, vigilant for any more curious snacks. Upon finding none, she yawned, fangs glinting in the dying sunlight filtering through the front door window. They will be home soon. I should prepare for their arrival.

Languidly she sauntered off across the sun-warmed tile, her toes stretching and clawing into the edge of the carpet. Her back arched and her tail whipped over her head. She lithely jumped onto the soft cushy couch and perched to survey her domain. She was queen and rightfully pampered. She smiled, fur parting across her face, lifting her white whiskers. No other cat can be as happy as I, she purred. She then curled up in a little Calico-Tabby ball to await the return of her pet humans.