The Games Furless Creatures Play

“Meugh watches a game on TV a lot,” said Lamont. “It is a bit hard to figure out what they are doing.”

“True,” replied Pawline, “it is very strange. A whole bunch of folk seem to walk around a rather deluxe cow pasture that has no cows. Some of the furless ones carry a bag with a lot of sticks in it, then every so often another guy takes a stick out of the bag or from the bag carrier and whacks a little white ball.”

“Well,” added Patchtricia, “that’s not a lot different from us when we chase the various balls we find here in our Shackteau; we just don’t bother with sticks and use our paws.”

“Yes,” said Lamont, “but they seem to have destinations for the little white ball, which sometimes is yellow; a hole in very slick parts of the cow pasture. If they take a stick and hit the white ball and it goes into the hole sometimes they just go pick it up and put it back in their pocket. Other times the make a fist and wave it around, sometimes they jump up and down and carry on something fierce while the crowd cheers. Generally those not carrying sticks or hitting the little white ball, are fenced off from parts of the cow pasture. Their job seems to be to clap and cheer when the furless one with a stick hits the little white ball. It is all very strange. And, I think our Meugh plays that same silly games as he has some of those sticks here in the Shackteau and occasionally brings a whole bag of them in a cleans them.” Weird.”

Paw and Patch nodded their heads in agreement, “Weird.”

Patch then chimed in, “the other day while Meugh was gone and the TV was still on I saw another game the furless ones played. If you think that one with sticks is weird you should have seen this one.”

“We probably did,” said, Paw, “which one are you talking about?”

Patch continued, “This game is also played in a cow pasture with no cows and is much smaller with lines drawn across it. Huge furless critters at the beginning run on to the cow pasture at the beginning while another bunch of huge furless critters in a different color of clothes run onto the cow pasture from the other end of the cow pasture.”

“Oh, I know the game you are talking about,” said Lamont. “Only in this game these furless critters wear things that make them look even more huge and they don’t use a white ball or white ball for every two furless creatures, instead they only have one ball which is much bigger than the white one, it is brown and weirdly shaped.”

“Oh yes,” added Paw. “The biggest ones line up in a row and others line up behind them on one side of a yellow line that often disappears, and the critters in the other color do the same facing them. Then one of the big critters in the middle of the line picks up the brown oblong ball and puts it threw his legs either giving it or tossing it to another fellow. That fellow then hands the brown ball to somebody else or throws it up in the air and everybody chases the brown ball.”

“Yes, yes,” cried Patch, “and then they crash into each other like the freight trains outside our Shackteau and huge speeds and knock each other down. They do this a lot until one side get tired of getting hit so the kick the brown ball away to get rid of it and then the other group of huge furless ones have to play with it and get hit. As a matter a fact there is a lot of hitting going on all over the place.”

“Yep, they hit each other so hard, frequently they have to carry one of them off the field. I guess you can only get hit so many times before it wears you out.” Said Lamont, “When we wrestle with each other we just quit if one of us gets tired. These critters can’t be very smart.”

“And then there are a whole lot of more normal sized folk who sit in seats around the cow pasture where this game is played,” added Paw. “The yell and cheer and carry on something fierce though they just sit there. I think maybe they have imbibed in too much catnip they way the act.”

“Yes,” said Lamont, “both are strange games among others we have seen the furless ones play, but the one with the brown ball seems the strangest to me. I’m glad our Meugh play the one with the little white ball. We’d hate to see him get beat up the way they do with the ones with the brown ball. I think he probably get broken.”

“Yeah,” said Patch, “and then who would clean our cat boxes and bring us food in the morning?”

[e.d. for those of you who like to see more enthusiastic cats watch golf please go here.