~ Follow my adventures as a super-hero cat and an eccentric food taster ~

Jun 2, 2010


CHAPTER 6: How I Came to Be a Super-Hero - Part Two ©

After Boss the Siamese taught me how to fly (we cats have fantastic air-control using our tails as rudders), the next question I asked was, "So what good can a flying cat do?"  

His answer was, "Not really a lot."

The question I should have asked was, "Where to from here?"

My trainer Boss went on to explain that a superhero has to have more than one super gift but most importantly, possess compassion and be willing to put his or her own life at risk for others, even dogs.

I thought that was asking a bit much, but kept my thoughts to myself. 

"How can you test for other skills?" I asked.

"That's the challenge," Boss agreed.

"Often we hear something special about a cat to begin with, such as your faster than usual running speed, and we begin our investigations. In your case, you do not seem to possess super running speed, although your fast running may prove helpful."

"There are things you simply cannot be tested for, for example, being fire-proof or bullet-proof." he said, "There are things you will find out about yourself by accident."

"So what kind of special powers could I have?" I asked.

"Flying for some is their only ability. Until they can find another super gift, we usually don't put them into our training program."

"Are animals the only superheroes?" I asked.

"Oh no, at present along with our many cat superheroes and other animals, we also have two humans," the Siamese replied.

"How about dogs?" I asked, my mind filled with images of dogs in costume.

"No," he said, "We found very early on in the program that dogs never make good superheroes."

I felt kind of good about that.

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Dogs are usually too busy worrying about their own human families, and everyone else around them, and they can't focus on being a superhero while they're away from them. It's too stressful."

"In the early days, we allowed some dogs into the program, but on the way to help out at disasters, they would be side-tracked by an old lady needing to cross a street, or to bark at squirrels, to chase rats, or to bury a bone they'd spotted along the way," Boss said.

"So how do I go about getting into the training program?" I asked eagerly.

Boss responded, "You have to discover at least one more helpful ability."

"And if I don't have one?" I asked.

"Then we've never met, and have a good life," Boss replied with a shrug of his muscled shoulder.

"How can I let you know if I find one?" I asked, a note of disappointment in my voice.

"We'll know," Boss said, "And we'll come to you."

The Siamese winked at me, flew straight up into the air, and shot across to the horizon in the blink of an eye.

I felt seriously let down. There I was thinking that my natural flying ability was enough to allow me to become a superhero. If I didn't have another super skill, I was useless. I was just going to be another ordinary house moggy.

Muttering through my whiskers in irritation, I returned indoors.

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