Kat and Doug

*My best story. Forget what other people misinterpreted into it and
just read the story. It's good, trust me.*

Cat and Dog

A fable about two animals and the color of a meadow.

One morning, a cat and a dog met in a meadow. They eyed each other
suspiciously: Weren't cats and dogs meant to fight? Neither of them
were in the mood for it. It was a warm and sunny morning, and when they
looked at one another across the distance they each felt that the other
was strangely familiar. Had they met before? Neither could recall a
previous encounter. Nevertheless, they thought they knew each
other.

The cat made the first move. "Hello," she said, not shifting from the
shady place near the corner of the meadow.

"Hello," the dog called back, no less friendly than the cat. He
waited, tilting his head to one side as he looked at her.

"Nice day for a stroll," the cat said eventually.

The dog nodded. "A delightful day indeed," he replied. When the cat
did not respond immediately, he continued, "At this time of day, the
sunlight sparkles in the dew, painting an array of picturesque rainbows
on the grass. I like to come here and enjoy the splendor of
nature."

Swayed by his eloquence, the cat took a few careful steps across the
meadow which was indeed wet with early morning dew, until she stood
next to the dog. He was right, she thought, there was true beauty to be
found here.

"So," she said after a pause which neither of them seemed to mind, "do
you come here often?"

The dog smiled and nodded. "I spend all my free time here," he
replied. "I enjoy the peace and quiet - for a while."

With that, he lay down on the grass and rested his head on his paws,
still absorbing the tranquility of the meadow. After a moment's
consideration, the cat did the same. They lay silently for a while,
until the morning sun began to dry the dew on the grass, and the magic
began to fade.

The dog jumped up. "Come on!" he shouted, and took a leap further into
the meadow, leaving a trail of disturbed grass behind him. The cat rose
slowly to her feet. She was content basking in the warm sun and the
new-found pleasure, and the dog's activities disturbed her peace. "What
are you doing?" she asked in an exasperated tone.

"I'm having fun!" he called. When she was still looking at him with
annoyed amusement, he barked and began to chase her, until she had no
choice but to join in his game.

They played until both of them were too tired to run. Exhausted, they
collapsed next to each other in the shade of a tree. "That was fun,"
the cat said after she got her breath back.

The dog grinned. "See?" he said and poked his tongue out. "Told you it
would be!"

They began to converse about the world, and soon the cat found that
she was able to share her innermost secrets with this new friend, and
she did so with pleasure. The dog did not seem to mind; on the
contrary, he encouraged her to do so.

When the sun began to go down, they were still on the meadow. "We have
learned much about each other today," the dog said. "You have told me a
lot about yourself, and I am glad to say that you have quenched my
thirst to understand another being."

"You have told me very little," the cat replied and blushed. "It
appears that I have done most of the talking."

The dog waved his paw. "There is not much to say about me," he said,
"and in any case there is always tomorrow. You will be here tomorrow,
won't you?"

The cat beamed with delight. "Of course I will!" she said. They parted
as friends.

The next morning, the cat was early. She made her way across the
meadow and positioned herself just right to see the sun turn the dew
into magic little rainbows. Eventually the dog joined her.

"You are eager," he said instead of a greeting and he lay down next to
her. They followed what was soon to become a ritual of musing and
playing, and when they were tired they silently enjoyed each other's
company.

"The grass looks especially stunning this morning," the cat said one
day. The dog nodded. He was so comfortable that he was nearly asleep
and the cat's conversation bothered him. But the cat was not finished.
"You see - when the sun hits this meadow just right, it looks almost
like the rainbows are dancing."

The dog lifted his head. He could see no dancing rainbows but for the
sake of peace he nodded again. "This is a magical place," he mumbled,
in an attempt to close the subject.

The cat did not take the hint. She straightened herself up and
exclaimed, "This is the most splendid spot on earth! I never want to
leave here. This is where I was born to be; just you and me on the
lush, green meadow!"

With a start, the dog sat up. He stared at the cat in disbelief, and
before the poor creature could ask what was wrong he snarled at her:
"Green? What do you mean, green? What kind of a joke is this, have you
lost your mind? This meadow is not green. It is red."

He continued to stare intently at the cat, who was shaken by his
outburst and barely managed to compose an answer. "Red?" she stuttered.
"My dear friend, you must be mistaken! We have been coming here for
weeks admiring this meadow. You cannot possibly now tell me that you
disagree over such a fundamental, yet simple issue as the color of the
meadow we have been looking at and playing in. It is green, so
obviously and ravishingly green! It is the greenest meadow I have ever
laid eyes on, indeed that is the appeal of it. Its unusual beauty lies
in this deep, warm and everlasting green!"

"Nonsense," the dog replied brusquely. "This meadow is red. I don't
know what ever possessed you to assume that it was any other color.
Really, cat, you surprise me. Besides, red is my favorite color. Red is
so much nicer than green so you should be happy to admit your error and
enjoy this wicked good red meadow with me."

The cat began to cry. Exhausted from her rather long speech and
confused by the dog's apparent inability to comprehend the obvious, she
turned around and ran away.

The following day the cat did not go to the meadow. She went to the
river instead and looked at her mirror image in the water. "Am I mad?"
she asked herself. Her reflection did nothing but pose the question
back to her. Angrily, she hit the water with her paw and the ripples
echoed her feelings across the river.

The next evening the cat could not bear to be away from her beloved
haven any longer. Carefully looking around, she strolled to the middle
of the meadow and gazed at the deep colors enhanced by the warm evening
sun. She inhaled the scent that had given her so much pleasure and
peace. The meadow was green. There was no doubt about it and the cat
saw it clearly now. She began to dance as the last rays of sunshine hit
the meadow.

"Hello, cat," she heard the dog's voice. She stopped dancing and
slowly turned around.

"Hello, dog," she said and smiled at him. "I missed you. Sorry I ran
away."

"That's okay," said the dog. They sat down next to each other and for
the first time their silence was a little uncomfortable. Eventually the
cat cleared her throat.

"About this meadow," she started.

The dog nodded. "Yes, we need to talk about the meadow," he agreed. "I
must admit that I was a little taken aback by your speech the other
day. We have been enjoying this pleasure together for so long. I was
confused to find that you misunderstood one of the most obvious
prerequisites, namely that this meadow is red. Now, I can understand
how you might wish that this meadow was green if you happened to like
that color, or that maybe you were mistaken in believing that it was,
if you had never seen anything green before. However, having thought
about it for two days I am sure that you will agree with me that this
meadow is, and can never be anything other than, red."

The dog's ardent proclamation confounded the cat. Suddenly she was not
sure what she was seeing with her own eyes. If the dog was so adamant
that the meadow was red, then maybe it was so. In any case, did it
really matter what name she gave to the color that gave her so much
pleasure? Wasn't it better to enjoy a red meadow, than to spoil the fun
she had playing in it with the dog just for the sake of a name?

However, the dog's patronizing attitude riled her and so she tried to
make one last stand. "What if you are wrong?" she said defiantly. "What
if the meadow really is green, like I said, and you keep insisting that
it is red? You are missing out on the enjoyment of a lovely green
meadow simply because you refuse to admit to yourself that it is green!
Give it a chance, dog. Look around you and see how green it is, and
know that you were mistaken. But it is not too late; the meadow is
still green and it will be green tomorrow, and when we run and play in
it you can enjoy the greenness with me!"

Out of breath, the cat stopped her melodramatic speech and lowered her
head, waiting for the dog to speak.

The dog looked around. The meadow was as picturesque and pleasant as
it had always been. He enjoyed its tranquility, and he enjoyed the
company of the cat. For a moment he wondered if maybe the meadow was
green after all.

Then he shook his head. "I'm sorry, cat," he said quietly, "but this
is without a doubt a red meadow."

Slowly, painfully, the cat nodded. "Whatever you say, dog," she
whispered. They sat side by side without speaking for a little while
longer, until the cat finally got up. "I'm getting cold," she said.
"I'm going home."

The dog rose too. "Will you be here tomorrow?" he asked.

The cat thought about it for a moment. "Yes," she said.

The cat and the dog spent many happy hours on the meadow. The dog
thought that he had convinced the cat that the meadow was red, or at
least if she wasn't convinced now then she would slowly understand it
over time. The cat knew that the meadow was green, but had long given
up trying to tell the dog. Maybe, she thought, in time, he will see it
too.