Stella Tells Us What She’s Thankful For


With Thanksgiving upon us, I decided to see if my cat, Stella, was capable of experiencing gratitude. (Hmmm, I could be here all day …)

Hey Stella, with Thanksgiving around the corner, I was wondering if you’re thankful for anything?
I hope not. What should I be thankful for?
Plenty of things. Me, for instance.
You know I’m not a dog, right?
A cat can experience gratitude, Stella, especially when someone does nice things for her.
Like what?
Like put a roof over her head, for starters.
You built me a roof?
In a way, yes.
Wow, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you SO much.
Great effort, Stella! Doesn’t that feel good?
Is our roof tar or shingle?
Come again?
You heard me.
Granted, I didn’t so much build the roof as pay for it.
I see. And how much did the roof cost?
Well, technically the original homeowner paid for it, but —
You don’t really understand this gratitude thing, do you?
Maybe that was a bad example.
Will you be taking credit for the walls, too? Should I thank you for running the electrical? Let’s get out the blueprints.
Let’s try something else. You could thank me for buying your food.
Don’t you just get it out of your car?
Well, sure, but first I drive to the store to buy it.
You leave the driveway? Huh. I always assumed you just went in there to nap.
You think I spend eight hours a day napping in the car in the driveway?
I spend eight hours a day napping on a shoebox in the closet.
Isn’t there anything you’re grateful for? A sunbeam shining though the window, perhaps?
Ugh. They exhaust me, racing across the room like that.
Sunbeams hardly race.
You try waking up every hour to move a foot. It’s demonic.
What about our couch? You seem to appreciate that.
It’s 45% hemp. Anything over 20 is like sleeping on an anthill.
I’m amazed you know that.
I’m not a savage.
Surely you’re grateful you don’t have to fend for yourself as a stray?
Name one thing you provide me that I can’t get on my own.
That’s pushing it. No cashmere in the wild, but not near enough in this house.
Six ounces of mixed grill in gravy served at 2 a.m.
I suppose so. Really should be midnight, though. Skip all that meowing.
On-call water from the tub.
I do like that. Should be filtered, though. I’m not a turtle.
A freshly vacuumed rug to vomit on.
Fine, YOU GOT ME. I’ll admit to being a little thankful, OK? Happy now?
My cat appreciates me! She really appreciates me!
Stop doing Sally Field.
This is going to be the BEST Thanksgiving! If I sit you next to my mom will you —
I’m not telling your mom.
I’m still happy!
You really should have gotten a dog.

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