December 18 Clawstria

in

"Treble Crochet"

Servus. I am Austria Cat. My paws are like little white gloves, my whiskers are never out of place, and my bowl is always full of the finest meaty cat food. If it isn't, I know just how to whine and dig my claws into the furniture until it's absolutely heaping. My human likes to chastise me for my extra "fluff" around the middle, but he's equally doughy, and being large is a sign of health, isn't it? It's at least a sign of presence. If your meow is soft, then at least compensate with a round belly and a well-groomed coat. There's no shame in being a pretty kitty.

I always feel particularly round this time of year. Edelweiss is an old mansion. Not too old to be useless, but old enough that visiting cats like to call its radiators and claw-foot tubs a "novelty." The heat in this place has never been efficient. If I'm not napping under a radiator, I'm draped across a windowsill in the sun just to suck in some lovely warmth. Anything to keep me away from the draft pouring under the front door. It chills my little paws every time I skirt across the floorboards to reach my bowl!

I eat to stay round and warm, then return to my roundness and warmth wherever I was napping last. I am a true aristocat, free to eat and nap as much as I please.

At the moment, I'm dozing under the radiator in my human's bedroom, curled up like the perfect Kaisersemmel. I crack my eyes just slightly to spy the poofy tip of my tail wrapped up around my nose. Purple light still streams through the curtains, so it can't be too late in the day. Is it early enough to go beg for a treat? My stomach still feels full, but treats are pleasure food. One doesn't need to be hungry to enjoy a morsel of liver.

I yawn and bare my teeth as I rise up onto my paws. My body wobbles as I gain my footing. If I'm this stiff, I must have been sleeping for a couple of hours. As I parade out into the hallway, my nose lifts in the air, and my tail raises like a flag, waving and signalling that a true gentleman is at large. I walk the true paths to a land of deliciousness! One paw in front of the other, gracing the carpet and plopping poomp, poomp, poomp down the stairs to the foyer!

My paws hit the hardwood, and I let out a yowl! The front door is open! A dreadful blast of cold air stings my fur and freezes my dainty nose! Terrified, I scramble to the first safe place I see, which is right up my human's back. He seizes and nearly drops the package he's just picked up from the front step. My tail wags, and my claws grip for dear life on the back of his jacket.

"Naughty kitty!" He squeals.

Then with a sigh, he lets me ride into the receiving room before he dumps me onto the sofa. Such rudeness! My claws are primed to dig into the cushions so he'll show me better attention, but my ears perk at something far more interesting.

My human is absorbed where he sits on the carpet with his package. My whiskers twitch when I see it's yet another cardboard box with a green strip of tape labeled Johann holding it together. Carefully, he cuts this and unfolds the flaps. Then, savoring each one as it comes, he removes seven roving-style yarn cakes spun with a metallic lurex ribbon. Long-fingered hands carefully stack each one until their glittering presence sucks in the whole room.

"These came just in time. I hope seven will be enough. Shipping is horrendous right now. I didn't even get my tracking data until five days after my card was charged. They have no sympathy for holiday crafters. Do they think I'm incapable of meeting deadlines?"

Most words are useless to me. All I know is that if the yarn box doesn't appear fast enough in the receiving room, my human gets very upset.

"It's already the 18th. If I want to get this done in time, I can't do anything complicated. Oh, Germany will get another boring treble-crochet sweater this year. Shame on him for having a 127-centimeter bust. I remember when I could make him the children's sizes."

I jump down from the couch to pad over and sniff at the yarn cakes. The chemical scent of acrylic is very strong, but the yarn is all shimmery in red and green, and there must be two hundred meters in each one. My human judged correctly. This should be enough for a sweater. But the question remains: Will I let him make a sweater? When he so rudely plopped me on the sofa earlier? I only wanted treats, and I had to endure the winter wind for my human to get his yarn!

"Do you love yarn more than me?" I meow up at him, flopping onto my back and cocking my head in its famous kitty pout. My tail flicks back and forth, brushing over the yarn cakes and managing to knock one of them over.

He reaches out to rub my belly, and I stretch myself to my full length, claws raking the rug. With each stroke of his spidery fingers over my fur, I rub my cheek into the floor, purring happily.

"You're such a fat boy," he says.

"But I'm such a cute fat boy! Don't let me starve!" I purr. Oh, I think it's working! He's forgotten the yarn cakes and has both hands scritching my puffy cheeks! I wriggle and roll around, purring and clawing at the carpet. The yarn will be cold just like I was! Only I deserve such pampering!

"Leave me alone, now. I rested my hands for a day after Prussia's sweater, and now I have to crochet this one for Germany. It would be too normal if only Prussia looked ridiculous at the holiday party, right, big boy?"

The hands leave my fur. I meow in protest, but it seems my human has had a crochet hook in his back pocket the whole time! He takes one of the yarn cakes and fiddles with it until he finds the string in the center. Pulling it, he releases a long noodle of yarn that stretches to a meter in length before it quits coming out.

"Don't tell me," my human sighs. He tugs and tugs at the string until a huge knot of yarn pops out of the center of the cake. "First the shipping delay, and now the yarn poo."

Yarn poo or not, this is my cue to become the petty pretty kitty I'm meant to be!

I paw at the yarn poo, then claw at it, then pounce and grasp it firmly between my teeth! Seizing the yarn cake in all four paws, I bite down on its rim and kick and scratch it like a kicking rabbit! This yarn will not have my love! I got up from a nap for this!

"NO, YOU NAUGHTY CAT!" My human shrieks, pressing one hand against my chest and wrenching the yarn away with the other. Once he's detangled all the fibers from my claws, he scoops me up under the belly and carries me out of the room, plopping me on the carpeted stairs.

"If you let me work for a while, I'll let you have a treat with supper," he says.

Like I said, I have my ways of getting what I deserve.

~N~

When it says it will ship by Christmas, but it's been a week and still hasn't shipped...

Austria, England, and Russia are the Needlework Trio now. They all go to the big box craft stores together to film yarn haul videos making fun of pretentious knitting shops.

THE SEASON 7 TEASER JUST DROPPED AND IT ALMOST MADE ME CRY. I actually will cry when Prussia is shown in the series.

Updated by Syntax-N on FanFiction . Net December 19th, 2020. Reposters clawed.