When Kittens Go Viral Page 3

  You’ve heard it said: “It’s easy to take a dog’s picture. He doesn’t pose. He doesn’t know the camera is there.”

  Some days, I just wanted to be a dog.

  Episode 5: Snow Angel

  Last night, there was great excitement in Majestic Kennels.

  Snow.

  It was a late-spring storm. MamaGrace says that most kittens are born in the spring. So it’s rare to see a video of a kitten with snowflakes.

  That’s why my video has already racked up a pile of views.

  They woke me up in the middle of the night.

  The Director had done snow videos before. He knew how to light the scene. It had to be on the outside set, of course. They just added a dark screen behind me. My odd mixed eyes against that black screen would film well. But I shivered and shivered.

  Stretching, I sat and curled my tail around me for warmth.

  But MamaGrace said, “No, dear. It’s time to work.”

  You don’t tell her no when it’s time to work.

  I yawned.

  “No yawning. Look lively,” the Director called.

  I stretched and yawned. Slowly, I woke up.

  Finally I nodded at the Director. “I’m ready to act.”

  I walked onto the set. Snow sprinkled across the brown grass. Cold!

  “Look up,” the Director called. Sometimes he screamed at me, which I hated. But tonight he was quiet. Maybe the snow enchanted him too. I breathed slowly, trying to match his slow breaths.

  Looking up, I sat on my back legs in surprise.

  Huge, white flakes fell toward me.

  One fell toward my face!

  I leaped aside, batting at it.

  MamaGrace crooned, “Rrruh!” That meant I was doing good acting!

  The snowflakes fell soft and gentle.

  I played.

  I let one snowflake fall onto my tongue. Shiver.

  I let one fall onto my blue eye. Blink, blink.

  I let one fall onto my copper eye. Blink, blink.

  I batted one down. Score!

  I snapped at one just above my nose. I missed.

  I scooped up snow with my front paws and rubbed my nose in it. Shiver.

  Shiver.

  Shiver.

  “Cut,” called the Director. “Well done, Snow Angel.”

  I love snow.

  This was fun acting.

  Jazz is Still Ahead

  A clowder of kittens pushed and jostled for position. It was the second week of the Top Kitten contest, and everyone wanted to see the scores.

  “Stand back,” yelled the Director. Mr. Danny, his right-hand man, gently pushed through the clowder to the wall. He taped a piece of paper there and stepped back.

  I waited, not caring to shove and push. But PittyPat and Quincy wove through the crowd to the front. PittyPat called loudly, “Top Kitten this week is Jazz, with her ‘Monkey Business’ dress-up video.”

  I turned away and stared at the classic posters that lined the front lobby of Majestic Kennels. My favorite was the one that showed DaddyAlbert and MamaGrace dancing together. My second favorite showed them rowing a boat together. Together. Always together. And now they were an ocean apart.

  And I hadn’t made Top Kitten again. Two weeks gone. Only four left.

  “Angel, did you see your score?”

  I turned to Jazz and forced out the words. “No. I just heard that you’re Top Kitten again this week. Congratulations!”

  Jazz sat on her haunches and licked a paw, which meant she was happy with herself.

  I covered my jealousy by talking. “You’re a really great dress-up cat.”

  “I definitely do NOT like the monkey outfit,” Jazz said. “For the video, they tried to jam a banana down my mouth—yuk! I don’t want to be a food cat.”

  “What amazes me is your costumes,” I said. “They’re amazing.”

  Jazz stopped cleaning her paw and stared at me. “Thanks. But why are you being so nice to me?”

  I shook my head, puzzled. “I’m not being nice. You’re a good actress, and I like your videos.”

  “You don’t think it’s weird that I’m a Siamese doing dress-up?”

  “No.”

  “It’s so hard!” Jazz said. “I have to be a successful actress, and more important, I have to not embarrass the Siamese world.”

  “They don’t like dress-up?” I said.

  “Not at all! I’m a different sort of Siamese, I guess. How can I dress just one way? I love to dress up in different clothes.”

  She was right. Usually, Siamese don’t like to be touched or dressed. Ragdolls might get coddled and dressed up. Not a Siamese.

  Quincy walked toward us, but I waved him off. I could find out my ranking after this talk with Jazz.

  “Will it matter to your parents if your videos get lots of views?”

  “Of course,” Jazz said. “I need to be successful so we can stay in Kittywood. We don’t want to go back to the normal world of cats.”

  “This crazy business only works if you’re true to yourself.”

  Jazz nodded. “Your snowflake video showed you as yourself. You weren’t acting in that one, were you?”

  “Yes and no.” I laughed at the memory of the cold snow. “Sometimes I’d turn a certain way or hold a pose for the camera. But mostly I just played with the snowflakes.”

  “That’s why you’re so good at this,” Jazz said. “You do it naturally.”

  We stared at each other. I really liked her monkey video, and she really liked my snowflake video. Maybe we could be friends.

  “Say,” I said, “we were going to the park to play in the Catnip Meadow. Want to come?”

  Jazz half closed her eyes, and then turned her head away. “No,” she said harshly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Only one of us can be Top Kitten.” Then she walked away.

  Surprise left me speechless. I had to blink away tears. The competition was important, of course. But was it so important that we couldn’t be friends?

  Talk it Out: The Groomers

  What should you use to comb a cat?

  A catacomb!

  I held my paw as still as I could until Miss Tanya worked out the tangles.

  It was the worst part of my day: grooming.

  A dozen cat groomers worked at Majestic Kennels. Each cat was cleaned every day.

  But my cotton-white coat was the hardest to groom. My hair had to float for the camera.

  Every morning, Miss Tanya worked on my coat for at least an hour. First she used a wide metal comb, moving to a finer comb when the big tangles were out.

  Armpits were the worst. Hair under my arms and legs matted easily. A good groomer separated the mat into small sections. Each section was combed by itself until it was straight. Sometimes powder helped the knots come out.

  I always liked the powder that smelled like oranges. And I liked to study DaddyAlbert’s videos while Miss Tanya worked. He did so many roles that he was a good actor to study. If he were here to teach me, I’d easily be Top Kitten. Of course, if he were here, I wouldn’t need to be Top Kitten.

  His best role was as a leading man. That means DaddyAlbert was the handsome boy cat who won the heart of the beautiful girl cat. Oh, it was old-fashioned in some ways. But it was his stage presence that caught me. How did he make you care so much? His movements were small. He didn’t leap and roll around like Quincy. Sometimes, the camera just caught him standing and looking toward something off-stage. But the moment was deep and emotional. His videos made the grooming time pass quickly.

  Grooming was the worst when the matted hair was so bad that it had to be cut out. Miss Nicole did that once. Just once. The Director fired her, and she never came back.

  Instead, Miss Tanya came the next day. She’s never let my arm pit get matted again.

  Here’s a big no-no! Yellow or brown stains (no way!) under the eyes or on the ruff, hocks, or rear. Eek!

  After my fur, my eyes were cleaned. A weather change could m
ake my tears yellow or brown. Miss Tanya dipped beauty sponges in a weak acid. She cleaned one eye at a time. The sponge wiped away any stain.

  Finally, after all that, it was time for my daily bath. Miss Tanya used gloves and a special clear shampoo. I hated the baths, getting all wet. So I’ll skip over telling that part.

  Hair dryers finished the job.

  It’s hard to look good on camera.

  Talk it Out: The Mirror

  I look in mirrors all day long.

  There’s a plain mirror near the door of our apartment.

  I like it best because it says, “Hello, Angel. I know who you are.”

  At the studio, we rehearse stunts in a mirrored room. A rehearsal is just practicing the stunt.

  I stand at one spot. There, in the mirrors, I see myself looking at myself six times back.

  These mirrors say, “Who are you today?”

  PittyPat knows who she is as an actress.

  She loves, loves, loves water.

  For a cat, that’s odd.

  Baths. Bubble baths. Falling in. Climbing out.

  There’s an art to looking charming when your fur is all wet.

  It takes great acting.

  PittyPat practices looking both upset and gleeful.

  She squawked loudly on the night she was born, and she’s been using that voice ever since. She sings mournful songs that connect with the viewer’s soul. I connect with my mixed eyes, but she connects with her voice.

  She hasn’t done a spray-hose yet.

  Will she like that too?

  Or will that make her get out of water-cat videos?

  Quincy knows who he is as an actor.

  He can eat anything.

  Put him in a kitchen with a clumsy cook. He’ll lick the spills. Or the cook’s face.

  Odd foods attract him. Yogurt. Crickets.

  One cricket escaped, and they chased it around the studio.

  A cameraman filmed it all.

  They cut the video down to a 30-second chase.

  Great acting!

  It’s an exciting video! Oodles of views.

  Crickets. Yuk. NOT FOR ME.

  The mirror tells me, “You’re an innocent.”

  But we’re getting older.

  PittyPat and Quincy have moved on to other roles.

  But I’m still stuck as an innocent.

  I need to move on too.

  MamaGrace says, “Don’t worry. You’re still getting heaps of views.”

  The mirror says, “You can’t stay an innocent forever.”

  I stand at the right place, and six of me look back. All are innocents.

  I look at six innocents that look like me.

  Inside, I don’t feel like an innocent. Innocents are naive and do funny things because they don’t know better. I long to do something intelligent.

  “Watch me!” I tell the mirror.

  I push my claws out.

  I show my sharp teeth.

  I flatten my ears.

  I am wild!

  The mirror just laughs at my acting.

  Jazz AGAIN

  The third week’s list of popular videos was posted amid more pandemonium.

  Quincy, PittyPat, and I were not in the top three. I was fourth. PittyPat was eleventh with a new water video. Quincy was seventeenth with a new food-cat video.

  Jazz was number one. Again.

  What else could we do? What other videos could we do? What other roles?

  We couldn’t give up. We were already nine weeks old. Soon we’d move to the dormitory with the other kittens. That would leave MamaGrace all alone. That would break my heart. She needed DaddyAlbert.

  After seeing the scores, I cried and cried. But then I dried my tears and made a decision. I would study the acting of other cats.

  Yes, study.

  I needed to learn.

  I wanted to be a better cat actress. I needed to be the best! Top Kitten!

  Studying Acting

  STUDY: QUINCY’S VIDEO

  Food cats like Quincy have odd ways to eat.

  Chopsticks!

  Quincy clutches the chopsticks in one paw. He bites the top of the other chopstick.

  He moves slowly, stopping to stare at the camera with coppery eyes.

  He moves the top chopstick by turning his head.

  He blinks, slowly. He opens his eyes w-i-d-e.

  He jabs a piece of meat.

  The nugget of meat falls off.

  * * *

  IMPORTANT: Here’s what I am learning. Every video is a small story.

  In a good story, the main character can’t win the first time. They must try it twice and fail. They can only win the third time.

  * * *

  Quincy stabs the meat again.

  It works! He lifts the chopstick to his mouth. He opens his mouth.

  The meat falls off.

  * * *

  IMPORTANT: Using his body language, Quincy tells the camera that he’s mad. He hunches forward. He narrows his eyes. His tail lashes about. He lets his claws come out to clutch the chopsticks. That’s good acting.

  * * *

  Quincy tries again. This time, he clutches and bites the chopstick. He pinches meat between the sticks. He takes his mouth off the chopstick. Quick, he leans forward.

  The meat falls. Again.

  But before it hits the ground, Quincy snatches it up!

  Success!

  STUDY: PITTYPAT’S VIDEO

  PittyPat’s green eyes look awesome with her chinchilla gold hair. Chinchilla means she has a golden-colored undercoat. She’s creamy white on the chest and shoulders. Her hair is black tipped on the head, back, tail, and legs. Her nose is the most beautiful pink.

  (My nose is red, and Quincy’s nose is red.)

  PittyPat is a lovely Persian.

  That’s why her videos are so shocking!

  There she is, trapped on the far side of a bathtub. (No one knows how she got there. She just gets in trouble a lot.)

  The bathtub is full of water.

  PittyPat hunkers down by the wall, as far from the water as possible.

  “Meow,” she cries. Her voice is rich and deep. She knows how to use her voice when she’s acting!

  Her tail swishes back and forth.

  * * *

  CUT to the food bowl.

  * * *

  ACTING WORDS: Each video is a tiny story told by the actor or actress. But it’s a story with video. CUT means to suddenly change to a different picture. In PittyPat’s video, it cuts from a picture of PittyPat to a picture of PittyPat’s food bowl.

  * * *

  CUT back to PittyPat.

  * * *

  IMPORTANT: PittyPat tells the camera that she’s hungry with her body language. She sucks in her stomach to look skinnier. She bats at the water. She licks her lips. She voices her hunger with pitiful meows. Great acting!

  She’s hungry, PittyPat tells the camera.

  Starving.

  The only thing keeping her from her supper is that bathtub full of water.

  Light glares off the white bathtub. There’s a strange ripple in the water.

  Suddenly PittyPat leaps.

  Her legs move frantically.

  Doggie-paddling.

  (Why don’t they call it kitty-paddling?)

  Splash, splash!

  Splish, splash, splish!

  To show how hard it is, she says, “Grrrowl!”

  Her voice is scratchy.

  The viewer worries about her.

  She tries to climb up the slick bathtub.

  Oh, no!

  She falls back in.

  She’s under water.

  For a long moment, she’s under water. (I’m worried.)

  She’s under water. (I’m worried more.)

  She’s UNDER WATER! (I’m desperately worried! Making the audience wait like this adds to the emotional depth of the storytelling.)

  There! She’s up.

  PittyPat says, “Meeeew!”

&
nbsp; The cry strikes into the heart. She’s trying SO hard!

  She slips on the slick bathtub.

  She falls in, but this time she keeps her wet slicked-down-hair face above water.

  * * *

  IMPORTANT: This is good storytelling. PittyPat has failed two times.

  * * *

  The wet cat tries to climb up. Her paws cling to the bathtub.

  Her claws come out, but there’s nothing for them to grab.

  She pulls. Her wet body heaves with effort. She grunts.

  I’m so worried for her that I grunt and want to push her up.

  She makes it!

  I’m sure my grunting helped! (I’m SO involved with her story!)

  She’s on the bathtub’s edge.

  She throws back her head and crows her victory. “Owww!”

  She shivers delicately and stops to lick her paw.

  Now she shakes all over, slinging water everywhere.

  She’s a slicked-down, ugly cat.

  (I’m sorry, PittyPat, but you look ugly when you’re all wet.)

  She hops down. Each foot lifts slowly, leaving a watery trail.

  She takes a bite of her food.

  Everything is silent. The music stops and waits.

  Her first bite of food is crunchy.

  Then comes the purring.

  The big music comes back.

  Success. Purr. Purr.

  MY VIDEOS

  What kind of stories do I want to tell with my acting?

  I could fight and lose.

  Fight and lose.

  Fight and win.

  A fight cat! That’s what I want to be.

  MamaGrace would never let me fight!

  The Director would never let me fight!

  Miss Tanya would never let me fight!