Sylvester was an energetic, fun-loving, half Siamese black and white cat. He looked so much like the well-loved cartoon character that his name can naturally. No one really remembered who named the cat, but his young mistress took all the credit.
This particular cat had a bit of an attitude. He had his favorite people, much like anyone, and he had an odd way of showing it. Sylvester took an instant liking to his mistress's Grandmother. The feeling was not mutual, as Grandma was more of a dog person. Still, she treated the young cat well and even brought him treats once in a while. The treats went a long way to making Sylvester love Grandma, and he started to pester her whenever she came over.
Grandma, not wanting to encourage the cat, decided to ignore him. This didn't please Sylvester at all. One day, when Grandma came for a visit, Sylvester decided he'd either get her attention or get even. He didn't much care which. After the obligatory round of hugs and kisses, Grandma took a seat in the kitchen, selecting the chair nearest the refrigerator.
Sylvester immediately hopped on top of the fridge and perched like a hawk. He hovered over her, fixing her with a stare that was nothing short of predatory. This continued for the better part of two hours.
Finally, Grandma couldn't take it anymore. "Stop it." She didn't yell, she didn't scold him, just make her statement firmly. Then she went back to the conversation she'd been having with her daughter and granddaughter.
It had no effect on the precocious cat. He continued to stare, unblinking, trying to unnerve her. Grandma started to shift in her chair as the weight of his gaze came to rest on her shoulders.
"Stop it." This time she looked directly at him.
If a cat could smile, Sylvester (or Vesser, as we called him) did. Instead of listening to her, he shuffled forward until he was almost falling off the fridge.
Eventually, Grandma just couldn't take it anymore. She got up and went to the other side of the table, the side nearest the microwave. The microwave sat on a counter, and above the microwave was a cabinet. There was no more than four inches of space between the microwave and the cabinet.
But four inches was nothing to Vesser. He immediately leaped down from the fridge and hopped onto the counter. He slithered into the space between the cabinet and the microwave, wedging himself in there. He inched forward until he was once again hovering over Grandma. The height might have been less, but he still managed to inspire discomfort on the part of his victim.
It wasn't long before Grandma turned to the hovering cat and cried, "What do you want?"
Vesser flew off the microwave and landed lightly on her lap. He placed his delicate paws on her chest and lifted his head toward her. After staring intently into her eyes for several long moments, Sylvester licked her nose once and cuddled his head under her chin. A few moments passed before Grandma put her arms around the purring feline.
"Is this what he wanted?" she asked incredulously.
The cat's young mistress spoke up. "Of course, Grandma. He just wants you to love him, and to make him the center of the world." The young girl smiled. "He is a cat, after all."
Grandma laughed and held Vesser tightly. "Maybe I am a cat person after all." The cat started to knead her with his white paws. "Imagine that, after all these years."
Mistress, Mom, and Grandma all laughed at each other as the rambunctious cat nibbled Grandma's chin.
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