HoneySpark,
queen of poor decisions,
declared war
on a cat
twice her size.
She puffed up
all three pounds of herself,
tail held high,
eyes full of confidence
that had not yet met reality.
Myst watched.
Waited.
Allowed exactly
one dramatic leap.
Then—
the paw.
Not cruel.
Not angry.
Just a single,
perfectly placed,
“Absolutely not.”
HoneySpark rolled
across the blankets
like she’d been struck
by lightning itself.
Three seconds later…
she charged again.
Some lessons
cannot be taught.
They must be
repeated
roughly every
thirty-seven seconds.
Leave a Reply