is decidedly less satisfying. Somehow, as the stakes got higher, the players became more menacing and the game more ruthless. In truth, it is no longer even played the way it used to be. For one thing, the object of the game has very nearly been eliminated.
It has long been established, for instance, that Cat is physically stronger than Mouse, but Mouse has nevertheless been a worthy opponent by virtue of her superior instincts and faultless determination. Over the years, however, Cat has accumulated many unfair advantages over Mouse, taking the fair play out of the game. This development has had the peculiar effect of making the game all the more enticing for Mouse, while rendering it tedious and dull for Cat. Such are the circumstances of Cat and Mouse as I begin my tale.
In the story I am telling, supremacy belongs to Cat. Mouse has much less power in most respects: she earns and keeps less wealth, she has a much smaller voice in world events and, in short, she has fewer advantages than Cat. As would be expected under such circumstances, Mouse has lost much of her spirit, and Cat feels the loss without acknowledging it. And so, when he encounters one of those few delightfully tenacious mice who refuse to accept these terms meekly, this new breed of Cat is too frightened to respond appropriately.
Meanwhile, Mouse has lost respect for Cat, thinking him lazy and spoiled by those mice who have acquiesced to his superiority. The game, then, has reached its final stages of existence, and only in the rarest cases, as in the story described here, is it played with the vigor of ancient times.
As my tale begins, Mouse is keeping a low profile in a little hole in the wall in Cat’s world. She is dressed in a flimsy rag, which is the modern fashion for the mice in Cat’s world, but which barely covers her nakedness and leaves her always feeling exposed and exploited. Still, our Mouse feels relatively safe from Cat because of her rebellious attitude, which his kind interprets as coldhearted spitefulness. This suits Mouse perfectly, for Cat disgusts her.
“Ha! Cowards!” laughs Mouse, as yet another cat scurries past her little hole in the wall, hastening to get away from the hostile creature therein. “How fearful those big, strong cats become when they encounter anger from a powerless little mouse! I shall easily escape the fate of my sisters with mere animosity as my defense.”
Indeed, it was not difficult for her to bring forth feelings of animosity. She hated being exploited in this cat-dominated world, never being understood or appreciated for her intelligence and sensitivity. And yet, whenever a cat stopped at the opening of her little den to look her over, she was seized with strange sensations that were both disturbing and frightening. But she refused to let the cats see her fear or, more especially, her secretly harbored hope that she might someday meet a real cat, like those she had read about in romantic novels. So she hissed and cursed at them, laughing to herself as they nearly tripped over their own feet in their hurry to escape her.
She set her face in an expression of haughty disdain as she heard another cat approach. He was much larger than she was, as were all the others, but she reminded herself that size wasn’t everything. She was certain that her will was superior to his.
She struggled to remain composed as the cat stood in the entranceway, his eyes moving leisurely over her body. The usual agitation burned in her. By what right did cats think they could ogle mice in that rude way? How did it get to the point where this was considered normal behavior? If she behaved like other mice, she was now expected to be flattered to have been honored with his attention! She jerked her chin up even higher and met Cat’s eyes with a look of disgust.
He was uncommonly handsome, she grudgingly noticed. It was indeed unusual these days for a cat to care about his appearance at all. They were generally so scraggly and unkempt that it offended one to be anywhere near them. But then, the mice were so busy worrying about their own appearances that it rarely occurred to them to notice that the cats were not worth all the trouble.
This cat, however, was one of the few who would be considered worth the trouble. But that was all the more reason to avoid him in Mouse’s opinion, for the good-looking cats were worse than the slovenly ones. They were in great demand and they knew it, and it was hard work indeed to win their affection for a single moment, let alone to achieve any kind of long-term devotion. As she looked at this cat’s self-assured expression, Mouse realized he probably had a number of mice at his beck and call. She forced herself to look past his physical beauty.
But it was impossible not to note the thick hair that fell in short dark waves around his face, or the faultlessly chiseled features that arranged themselves into an expression of absolute confidence and poise. His muscular body moved with singular grace and ease. Mouse’s sharp instincts warned her that she had better get rid of him quickly. She drew her most effective weapon in ridding herself of cats: her tongue.
“Look all you like, pig,” she snarled. “You will never be allowed to touch.” For at the very least, this strange world in which she lived would not permit a cat to force a mouse to submit against her will. Indeed, there was not the slightest temptation for them to do so anyway, since mice were offering themselves up willingly to be the eager slaves of the undeserving louts!
To Mouse’s astonishment, Cat actually smiled at her remark and then slowly reached his hand into her little hideaway. Very carefully, so as not to touch her skin, he took one agile finger and lifted the ragged material of her covering up to her shoulders, exposing her body completely to his view. With an angry hiss she slapped his hand away.
“You did say I could look all I liked, did you not?” He laughed.
Now, Mouse had one weakness, and it was that she was highly competitive—especially in matters of wit and will. Hers was a character that was easily drawn into the game of cat and mouse. The cat’s clever retort, combined with his easy demeanor and absolute disregard of her bad-tempered manner was sufficient enticement for her to ignore her apprehensions and change her mind about her earlier resolution to get rid of him immediately. It might be better to torment him a bit first.
Her eyes held his with sudden interest, and one corner of her lips turned up in a smirk. She shrugged her shoulders and tried to assume a look of casual indifference. “I was only thinking of you just now,” she rejoined with mock sincerity. “I would hate your ego to suffer the singular blow of being refused what you desire.”
“It’s sweet of you to be concerned for my welfare,” he replied with a grin. His eyes burned into hers as he added, “But on that matter we both know you don’t need to worry.”
She wondered if his remark meant that he did not find her desirable, or if he was just so confident that she would acquiesce to him if he did. He saw her confusion and laughed.
More curious than ever now, she took the coy approach, saying, “I suppose you have too many mice to choose from to become overly excited about any single one, what with the harem of slaves you must have lined up to do your bidding.” She said this as if she was complimenting him, but the message was clear enough. One of the things she detested most about this modern cat’s world was the way mice were always so willing to debase themselves by selling their flesh to the cats as willing sex slaves. And yet, she knew it had to sting the cats’ pride to know that, even though they could buy virtually anything they wanted from the mice, they were, nevertheless, obliged to pay for it. In her remark, she was insinuating that he, too, would have to pay for favors, even though she suspected that it probably wasn’t true in his particular case.
Cat was not put off by her remark in the least, however, and with a cool and steady composure he answered, “Even so, I am willing to give you the opportunity of being my slave if you ask me nicely.” He loved the way her eyes flashed in anger at his remark. He was enjoying goading her immensely.
“I most certainly do not want to be your slave!” she huffed. How could he twist everything around
