A Hiss-terical Mother

I once had a very affectionate and clingy Persian cat. She sometimes behaved more like a dog than a cat, and she liked to accompany me everywhere. I had her on a leash and most of the time she slept in my handbag, occasionally looking out and scanning the surroundings. When I would put my bag on the floor, she’d crawl out and sit on it, hissing at everyone who’d try to come near like a perfect little watchdog, but while I carried it, she would be a perfect lady and was quite willing to meet new friends and purr at people who noticed her.

I had lots of very interesting encounters when she was with me. They were mostly positive; people were curious and friendly when they saw her, and there were many funny situations when people faced a fluffy, silver cat in unexpected places, but there was one instance that stuck with me because it was so nasty.

I was waiting in line in a bookstore, my cat sleeping in my bag as usual. Next to me, in the second line, was a woman with a child, probably about eight or nine years old. The woman was looking at her phone while the little girl was looking around.

My cat decided it was time for some fresh air and stuck her head and front paws out of my bag, looking around, gently purring as usual. The girl saw her and started to smile. She tugged at her mum’s sleeve and said excitedly:

Little Girl: “Mummy! Mummy! Look! That lady has a cat in her handbag!”

She was quite cute, and I smiled and prepared for the usual questions when the mum totally lost it! Without even looking where her child pointed, she grabbed her arm and loudly exclaimed:

Mum: “Have I not told you not to lie to me?! How dare you?! No one carries a cat in here! Now shut up!”

The people in the immediate vicinity turned around, staring at her in disbelief. After all, this bookstore had a children’s section that also sold stuffed toys, among others lots of cats and other pets. It wasn’t so far-fetched that, even if someone didn’t see my real cat, maybe someone was indeed holding a stuffed toy cat!

The woman let go of her now sniffling little girl and turned in my direction with a huff, just to find herself face to face with my cat who’d climbed onto my shoulder to get away from her when she started a ruckus. She never liked people talking too loud.

The woman stared at my cat, who arched her back and hissed in her face. Then, the woman looked at the shocked faces of the people staring at her, flushed beet red, grabbed her child, and hurried away.

I still feel sorry for that poor girl.