“Teagan vs. the Straw”
The Adventures of Teagan, Ep. 17
“Teagan vs. the Straw”
What was this? Mom had dropped something on the kitchen floor and left it there. Teagan moved in to investigate. It was bright pink, long, thin, plastic, and bendy at the neck. She gave it a tentative tap. It was pretty light too. She hit it again, harder this time. One end bounced up and it made a hollowed clacking sound against the linoleum. Hm, this could be fun.
Teagan swatted at it again. The force of her punch sent the straw skittering across the floor. She scampered after it, scooping it up in her paws and falling into a roll. Her teeth found the shorter end that looked like an anemic bird’s beak and she bit into it repeatedly. Die little, plastic…thingy. On second thought, it didn’t taste very good. Teagan dropped it and sat up.
The straw looked up at her, it’s neck bent upward, haughtily defying her dominance. Teagan frowned at it. She swatted it again for good measure, but it took the opportunity to flee again. Teagan pounced to thwart its escape. The straw rebounded off the floor and flipped back over Teagan’s head. She whirled around. She would not be outdone by this lightweight, insect of an opponent. She chased it across the floor until both plowed into the kitchen rug and cabinet wall. Teagan rolled over the flipped rug while the straw ducked underneath a flap for refuge.
Teagan flicked her head back and forth in search of her quarry before she spotted its tail slightly sticking out. Teagan grasped for it, but ended up pushing the rug back and trapping the straw. Okay, while she would have preferred ripping the thing to shreds, Teagan supposed she could content herself with suffocating it. She waited on top of the rug a few moments longer, just to ensure a proper squashing.
Mom came into the kitchen then, carrying that suspicious black box. Teagan didn’t like the looks of it. Mom bent down to straighten the rug and dig out the straw’s remains. She ran her finger over the neck, cracking it back and forth like an accordion. Teagan grumbled. Three cheers for Mom’s chiropractic measures reviving the straw. Honestly, Teagan’s work was always twice as hard in this house.
Mom set the straw on the chair. It’s plastic skin clattered against the wood. Teagan lunged for it again, gaining the chair and dethroning the straw. She watched it fall helplessly to the floor. Teagan was about to go after it and finish it off for a second time (weren’t cats the only ones supposed to have nine lives?) but noticed Mom still standing there. The black box was raised in front of her face. Oh no. Teagan plopped her butt down and refused to move. That whining, grinding, flashing box was a nuisance. Teagan refused to indulge Mom in this one area, whatever it was. Mom crooned, coaxed, and grumbled, but Teagan wouldn’t have any of it. You were lucky, straw—saved by the camera