Trick or Treat

Sebastian, my tuxedo cat, dashed through the living room, with me in hot pursuit. He went into capture-and-conquer mode every time I used the feather duster. His fascination for it grew beyond merely taking it from me. Finding its newest hiding place had become one of his favorite pastimes.

I caught up with him by the sofa and grabbed the duster. "You can't have this." I sat on the sofa and dropped the tempting cleaning tool next to me.

He hopped up and swatted at the feathers.

"No." I shoved the duster under my sweatshirt. "I don't have time for this."

In addition to my regular house-cleaning chores, this was Halloween. I had to finish dusting, sweeping and mopping before I could set out the pumpkins, scarecrows and candy.

Sebastian flipped his tail expectantly.

I laughed and stroked his black and white forehead. "You understand every word, don't you, boy?"

I carried the duster, still hidden within my clothing, from room to room, searching for a nook or cranny my clever cat hadn't yet discovered.

"Aha. He'll never think to look in here." I glanced back into the living room. Sebastian sniffed and pawed at the sofa, where he had last seen his catch of the day. I tossed a couple of toys in his direction, hoping to distract him. It worked.

"Now," I said to myself, "time to finish my chores. Trick-or-treaters will be here before dusk."

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Trick or Treat