Other Voices #6: “Bertie’s Big Day” by Bertie the Bold

Ed. Note: “Other Voices” are stories written for my monthly Patreon patrons from the viewpoint of other characters. They are published to the general public on a four-month delay.

My life is so perfect now! I live in my big house with my hooman momma and the love of my life, Simone. But this story takes place before I met Simone. Even before I was reunited with Tiddles as a big boy!

Hooman Momma and I live in an enormous house. Bigger than Tiddles! When Momma brought me home from the shelter, I spent LOTS of time exploring the first floor. There were so many places to investigate!

But I couldn’t explore the second floor because I was too small to climb the stairs. In the evening, Momma would pick me up and carry me up the stairs to our bedroom. In the morning, she’d carry me back downstairs for breakfast and the start of the day.

But as time passed, I grew bigger. I stopped speaking kitten talk and spoke like an adult. But every evening, Momma still carried me upstairs. I didn’t want to be carried. I wanted to go up the stairs myself like a grownup.

One night when she picked me up, I squirmed and squirmed until she set me down. “What’s wrong, Mewbert?” she asked; “Why won’t you let me hold you?”. Head held high, I trotted over to the steps and tried climbing them myself.

“Oh! I see!” Momma exclaimed; “You think you are a big boy and want to climb them yourself. Ok.”. I turned and smiled at her before I started my ascent. It was hard going! I had to stand on my hind legs, grip the top of the step with my front paws, and pull myself up. I was very slow at first, and Momma rolled her eyes at my speed, but she encouraged me. The first time I did it, it took a long time. But I made it! In joy, I danced sideways, then sprinted into our bedroom. Momma laughed!

The next morning, I climbed down the stairs by myself. That was a lot easier! Although, I fell on my face a few times and rolled down a few steps. Momma gasped in horror, but I was ok. I am tough!

After that, I got faster every time I climbed up or down. Soon, I was so fast that I had to wait for Momma at the top or bottom. I felt like a real big boy!

Momma and I spent the days together. Time passed, and I became a young adult. One day, when it was suppertime, Momma told me this was a very special day. I was puzzled. It had been a great day, but not any greater or less great than any other day. What did she mean?

She picked me up and sat me in a chair at the kitchen table. She went into the kitchen and came back with my wet food on a little plate. But there was a little white stick stuck in the middle of it, and it was on fire at the top!

As I stared at this, she took a little cone with a stretchy string on it and put it on my head! Well, I didn’t like this very much, but because Momma did it, I suffered in silence. So I sat there watching the fire stick on my food, and that stupid cone on my head. Momma started taking pictures of me. She said it was the one-year anniversary of my Gotcha Day. I didn’t know what a year was, but it seemed special to her.

“Make a wish and blow your candle out, Mewbert!” she urged. I wished this dumb cone was off my head. I reached up with my right paw and knocked the cone off my head. Then, scowling, I whacked the fire stick until the fire went out. Finally! I could eat my supper.

As I ate, Momma sat and thought and watched me. She eventually said, “You’re a big boy now! Mewbert is a kitten’s name. You need a big boy’s name!”.

She sat and thought some more. “How about Bertie? That’s a GOOD name!” she exclaimed; “Do you want to be called Bertie now?”. I mulled it over in my head, “Bertie. Bertie. Bertie the Bold!” I nodded my assent and meowed my approval.

I’ve been Bertie ever since!


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