December 2 ~ Purrussia
in
"Licking Lebkuchen"
Tremble before me, you humble Acolytes of the Floof! It is I, the Awesome Prussia Cat! My coat is snowy white, my eyes are the sharpest in the neighborhood, and I happen to be a pan-dimensional cosmic super-cat with the power to poof tuna into existence, but I don't do that too often. Germany Cat has a wicked addiction to the stuff, and his subtle begging is more annoying than Austria Cat's caterwauling when he's lost in his own house!
Every day is a strict routine for a cat of my stature. I wake up at exactly seven a.m. and lick my human's beakish nose for fifteen minutes. When that fails to wake him, I jump from his bed to the bookshelf to the top of the birdcage and go fishing between the bars for the canary. I don't have my front claws anymore, and I never aim to hurt him — just bat him around and score some imaginary points in my head — but it always gets my human's attention, and in a period of two minutes and fifty-eight seconds, it gets me a bowl of kitty kibbles, too.
From there, I whine to go outside and spent the morning patrolling the neighborhood. I'm the king of my own little tentacle of suburbia. When I smell another cat, I plant my own smell over the whole area. When I see another cat, I arch my back and tell him to kindly get his foolish fuzz-butt off my turf. And if he so insists on staying, I fluff my stuff and yowl like the craziest little mini panther until the dogs come to my aid and we attack the intruder together. Germany Cat, meanwhile, just flicks his tail and watches in disapproval from his perch on the fence.
But the weather's been getting colder lately, and despite having been born a Baltic cat, I prefer curling up in a human's armpit to padding around on the frozen concrete outside. I was planning on doing that today, but my human never got into bed for his afternoon nap. Instead, he got that smirky look on his face and brought in all the boxes of Christmas decorations from the garage. Two minutes and fifty-eight seconds later, I had this ring of itchy gold tinsel forced around my neck, and now my human is snapping pictures of me!
I'm happy I don't have front claws right now. I'm rolling so violently over the carpet I can't tell what's the tinsel and what's my poor tail! My paws are flying to tug at every flash of glittery ribbon hanging off the ring. I get a few strands between my teeth and pull, but I'm not strong enough to rip it off when it's so close to my face. The canary is whirling around and around my head, laughing at me in his chirpy way. I'd like to see if he could fly with a big tinsel bow around his wings!
"Watch it!" Germany Cat hisses from above me. He's been napping on the couch, and I realize my teeth have clamped around his precious tail. When I release, he pulls it up and licks it in his meticulous manner.
"This thing is so dang itchy! I hate it! How come I have to wear the tinsel ring and you get the Santa hat!?"
Germany Cat paws at the tiny hat fastened over his right ear and purrs disdainfully. "I didn't notice. I've been sleeping."
"I am going to rip this thing apart and scatter its remains all over my litter box so it will be impossible to scoop out every little chunk of ribbon! Haha! The humans will scowl over the mess for days!"
"As long as you're fine with having tinsel stuck to your butthole for a while," Germany Cat meows, putting a paw over his face and going back to sleep.
Ach! I can't let that happen! I need a different revenge scheme. Every year Germany Cat and I have to endure this holiday dress-up, but the tinsel ring is a new one! I have to make sure this never happens again! I have to make a statement! I have to assert my grievances!
I will poop in the birdcage!
I pad toward the basement door, resisting the urge to scratch at the ring all the while, when something catches my attention. It's a smell. A smell like nuts and honey and marmalade! As a cat, I don't like these weird smells, but they attract me nonetheless. My evil scheming is halted as my tail lifts up and I pad over toward the little kitchen. Up on a stool sits my human, and Germany Cat's human is on the other side of the counter, dusting flour off his pink apron.
I squat and leap! My legs propel me up onto a stool, and I survey the spread. Ah, here's the source of the smell! The countertop is packed with Lebkuchen — these sweet gingerbread cookies the humans bake every year a few weeks before Christmas. Half are coated with chocolate, and the other half are coated with sugar glaze. Germany Cat's human takes a new pan out of the oven, while my human coats the cool ones and puts them in tin boxes with apple slices to help them stay moist.
My human notices me and gives me a scritch under the chin. "See? You can get used to that tinsel collar. You're like a little Christmas lion! Right, Germany? He's so cute like this! I have a red one for your cat, too. I got the Santa hat on him right now."
"Nice scratches on your arms. Are those fresh?" Germany Cat's human asks.
My human and I assess my handiwork. I must have kicked him with my back claws pretty hard when trying to get away. There's a long streak up the underside of his forearm.
"It's fine, Lud. I'll just heal it up with a little entropy-reversion—"
"Go wash your hands and disinfect it. Now."
My human gets up and leaves without protest. I sidle over to the stool where he was sitting. (Ah, it's so warm!) Then I bend down and sniff the closest cookie. It's decorated with little almond slivers. The honey smell is unbelievable. This is the old Nuremberg recipe, straight out of medieval times. Heresy and honey. Those were fun days!
"Naaa?" I meow at Germany Cat's human. "How about you let me lick some of these? It's only payment for the tinsel. The alternative is me leaving turds in the birdcage. Your choice. I'm impartial."
"Don't lick the Lebkuchen, cat," he tells me, swiping his hand in my face. I recoil, but only for a moment. Then my pale pink nose is inching toward the Lebkuchen again. My lips draw back, and my tongue darts forward, tasting the chocolatey treat. It's not my favorite, but the warm, tasty coating draws me in. I take advantage of a little moment where the human is stalling with the mixer and lap up as much goodness as I can.
"Hey, hey, hey! Get away from there!" Germany Cat's human shouts. This time, he waps me across the body with an oven mitt, and I'm thrown to the floor, tumbling around with the itchy tinsel unfortunately still attached. In seconds, I'm racing across the floor and trying to find my bearings again. The canary dive-bombs my head. I leap up and open my mouth, but I miss him by a centimeter and continue flying straight into the living room carpet.
"All clean!" My human sings as he comes back from the bathroom and sits on his stool again. He shows off his damp hands and sealed-up scratch, then he eyes the growing spread of Lebkuchen. "Do we have to give some to Austria this year? He got so fat after last Christmas—"
"Think of it as bringing a gift to everyone at the holiday party," Germany Cat's human tells him.
"All right then. Mm… I'm not bringing this one!" says my human. He picks up the cookie I licked and shoves it right in his mouth.
The canary fluffs himself between my front paws, and I purr as I groom his little feathered head. "Mm... you get off turdless this time, but it's not mercy, chirpy guy."
~N~
Hello, and welcome to my secret project! This calendar is dedicated to my best friend Bertha, who said her Christmas wish was "for someone to write a good Nekotalia story for once." Here are twelve stories, Bertha and readers! Every even day up until Christmas eve, I will release a new one. Follow along by putting this fic on your alert list and "lifting the flap" with the link in the alert email! The order of the cats and some prompts were randomized, so it's a surprise every time! Prussia Cat came up first in my random list, so he got the cover image, haha.
~Lebkuchen, cookies similar to gingerbread, have been around since medieval times and originated in Nuremberg, Germany, due to the abundance of beehives in the surrounding forests. Today they are sold and eaten mostly around Christmastime and are a favorite at German Christmas Markets. Genuine "Elisenlebkuchen" (from Nuremberg) must be made of at least 25% walnuts, hazelnuts, or almonds. The cookies come in all shapes and sizes, but are traditionally round with a thin flour wafer underneath.