I-I Broke Something…
This thing humans made called a "television" was a truly marvelous invention.
All you had to do was press the buttons on something called a "remote control," and all sorts of things appeared.
When humans gathered to play some kind of game, it was called a variety show. When humans took on roles and threw themselves into making something, it was called a drama. When someone spoke carefully and solemnly to deliver the news, it was called the news. The variety of things to watch was truly endless.
Among them all, the most fascinating program in my opinion was the one where animals appeared and the humans each reacted to them.
"She's not cranky. She's mad because they keep giving her the same food over and over. Why can't humans figure out something this simple?"
Watching humans fail to understand a single word the animal was saying and babble nonsense about it was endlessly entertaining.
"Eek…! Why is a dog on screen?!"
The revelation that some humans raised cats and dogs together came as quite a shock.
Dogs, you see, express themselves in ways that mean the exact opposite of ours. That's why I can't stand them.
And their pointless friendliness, the way they'd trot right up to you without a shred of hesitation, was equally disagreeable.
The way they bounded around everywhere, too. Same story.
They were different from us in far too many ways, and that was that.
"Munch munch. Cookiesh are sho good."
I was popping one cookie after another that my butler had brought me while jabbing at the buttons when a drama came on. Curious to see what these human-made "dramas" were all about, I set the remote down for a moment.
Human marriage, I'm told, is how they make pairs of each other. What an inconvenient way to live.
Why on earth did they have to go ask their parents for permission to pair up? If they liked each other, wasn't that enough?
"I just can't understand it."
I had just picked the remote back up to find something else, unable to relate to what I was watching, when—
"Jiyoung is, in fact… the little sister you lost when you were children."
"HUUUUH?!"
Had I heard that right?
The woman he wanted to marry was his own sister?
What was this?! This was taking an amazing turn!
The shock was so great I even dropped the cookie I'd been holding in my mouth.
"Munch munch… And then? And then what happens?"
It was all so gripping.
The woman he was about to pair with turned out to be his own sister!
If this happened among cats, it would be the kind of earth-shattering news that would make you spray out the water you were drinking mid-lap.
"You said it had to be her or nobody! Then keep pushing forward, obviously!"
"That's it! So what if you just found out she's your sister? You didn't know until now, and you two were living happily together anyway!"
Two years into this cat life.
In a situation more thrilling than anything I'd ever experienced, my heart pounded like mad, and I couldn't tear my eyes from the TV for even a second.
Humans had been hoarding all this fun to themselves.
Those greedy, selfish humans.
What did I… just hear?
The drama ended right on that jaw-dropping moment of shock.
"NOOOOO! How can you end it HERE! Show me! Show me more!"
Before the screen changed completely, I frantically memorized the drama's title and pressed the confirm button on the remote the way my butler had shown me, checking the broadcast schedule too.
"When does it air? 'Daily'? What does 'daily' mean?"
This was clearly something I'd have to ask my butler once she finished her work and came out.
"Short, but incredibly entertaining. That was worth five Churus eaten straight, no breaks."
Having discovered that the TV was more fun than I'd imagined, I flipped through the channels looking for other interesting programs.
Then a show about humans going on trips appeared on the screen.
"I want to go on a trip with my butler."
I wanted to see the ocean, and to see farther-off places too.
As long as my butler was with me, it was bound to be fun.
"Hee hee. Fools. One of them just fell down."
Whenever a funny moment popped up, laughing at the humans was its own kind of entertainment.
"Haaah… I'm getting sleepyyy."
My belly was full, the couch was soft, and before I knew it I was sprawled on my back, lazily pressing the remote buttons and flipping channels.
"Is there anything like that show from earlier on?"
I was idly scratching my belly while flipping through the channels, wondering if anything else could deliver that kind of thrill, when I slowly started drifting off.
"Tuna sashimi… I wonder if there's any left."
I had a feeling that if anyone would leave tuna sashimi behind, it would be my butler, and I crept quietly over and opened the fridge.
Just as I'd predicted, the leftover tuna sashimi sat there in a container.
"Eeheehee. Tuna time!"
With a texture and flavor that canned tuna couldn't even hope to compare to, a single taste had been nowhere near enough to satisfy me.
I began sneaking just a few pieces, keeping my ears pricked for any sound from the closed room where my butler was working.
That was when I heard something in the room clunk heavily into motion.
"Hnyat!"
It came through so clearly that I knew my butler would be out any second—and my body moved before my brain could catch up.
Put the lid back on the container… p-put it on…
"Grrr… why won't this thing close!"
My butler did it effortlessly, but every time I tried, the lid kept slipping out of alignment and refused to shut.
"There! Closed!"
Only after finally managing to seal the container, and shutting the fridge door as well, did I plan to settle back onto the couch as if nothing had happened.
And then my tail bumped, ever so lightly, into the flower vase sitting on the table.
CRASH!
It toppled straight off and shattered into pieces on the floor.
"I-I broke something…"
"Hm? What was that sound?"
In the middle of the ongoing meeting, I thought I heard something strange from beyond the closed door.
"Yerin, is something wrong?"
"Oh, nothing at all. So you'd like this part revised?"
"Yes, exactly. I'd like it to feel a bit simpler."
"Understood. I'll incorporate that and send you the revision."
For a while now I could hear Chuchu apparently enjoying her TV programs, so she seemed to be keeping herself well occupied.
"Great, that should do it. Thanks for your hard work, Yerin."
"Thanks for yours as well."
"By the way, you like cats, right, Yerin?"
"I do, I love them. I actually just started keeping one recently."
"Really? So you finally got a cat!"
Since the meeting wrapped up earlier than expected, I took the chance to start some small talk with the client I'd worked with for years.
"Do you have any cat pictures?"
"I'd love to take some, but the moment I point a camera at her, she runs off. Maybe she's still too young?"
"How old is she?"
"Two. She's a Ragdoll. I named her Chuchu."
As I went on proudly singing Chuchu's praises, the client naturally assumed she was just an ordinary cat.
I had apparently become the butler of an extremely adorable dog-cat.
Well, she was a dog-cat, to be fair.
What else would you call a cat who wags her tail and climbs into your arms because she's happy?
"Pfft! Yerin, honestly, you sound just like a mom bragging about her kid."
"She's just so cute and clever, I can't help myself. What can I say?"
With that bit of small talk, the video conference came fully to a close, and I headed out to the living room to spend some time with Chuchu.
"Chuchu, I'm done with work. Were you good while I was gone?"
And then I was confronted with an extremely odd sight.
"…Chuchu?"
"Hmm?"
Chuchu was brushing her teeth.
That was, in principle, something that should only have been possible once the sun rose on the opposite side of the sky.
Washing up on her own was unthinkable enough—self-administered toothbrushing was beyond imagining.
"You're… brushing your teeth? By yourself?"
"Hmm!"
Chuchu had finally started washing herself on her own.
Just imagining how much effort it must have taken to get there made my heart squeeze tight, and she seemed so grown-up and admirable that I swept her into a hug and stroked her head over and over.
"Aigo, my Chuchu! You're amazing! So you can wash up all by yourself now?"
"After teef brushing… gonna wash myshelf…" she mumbled around the toothbrush.
"You were? You don't want to wash up with me?"
"Ish… itsh nice washing together. Mm-hm…"
She seemed a little anxious, somehow.
It made sense that taking on this challenge alone felt daunting to her.
"That took real courage, my Chuchu. I'll make you tuna sashimi rice bowl for dinner tonight."
"Hm?! N-no, it's fine. I'll just have kibble today."
"You don't want tuna sashimi rice bowl?"
"I'll have it later. It's a treat."
When on earth had she learned self-restraint like this?
They say children grow up in the blink of an eye when their parents aren't looking—apparently that's exactly the kind of thing people mean by it.
I followed Chuchu as she went off to spit out the toothpaste, and even when it came time to step into the tub filled with warm water, she didn't refuse.
"You're amazing, my Chuchu. One incredibly amazing cat."
"O-obviously!"
"When did my little one grow up so fast, hmm?"
"Oh, right—what does 'daily' mean?"
"Daily?"
"Mm. The drama said it was a daily drama."
"Ah, 'daily' means it airs every day."
"EVERY day?!"
I had no idea which drama she'd been watching, but the instant I explained the meaning, she broke into a beaming smile.
"Find a fun drama, did you?"
"Yeah! A man brought home the woman he was going to marry, and it turns out she's the little sister he lost when he was little!"
What on earth… have you been watching.
"And then the man and the woman end up having a baby!"
Wait, they still broadcast train-wreck dramas like that these days?
"It was SO good. I'm going to watch it every single time it's on."
"Uh… r-right. Sure."
So she'd been watching a drama utterly poisonous to healthy emotional development.
But telling her she shouldn't watch it felt like it would crush her enthusiasm too hard, and I couldn't quite bring myself to say it.
"Butler, do humans really live lives that dramatic and exciting?"
"No! That's only because it's a drama."
"So it doesn't happen in real life?"
"Well, it's not that it never… happens, but you can assume it almost never does."
"Ugh, humans live such boring lives."
The moment reality set in, her face fell flat, and she gave me a thoroughly unimpressed look.
"And here this great me thought all humans lived like that."
"If people actually lived like that, the whole world would be in absolute chaos. I guess it looked exotic even from a cat's point of view, huh?"
"Yeah, no. Even we can't relate to that."
Cut off. Cleanly and completely.
No wonder I hung my head, embarrassed.
After she'd finished her bath, I was heading to the kitchen to give Chuchu a treat.
"Butler!"
But she came running up to me as though to block my path, and clasped my hand in both of hers.
"Let's play in the living room!"
"Aren't you having your treat?"
"I ate lots of cookies, so I'm not hungry."
"Goodness, you ate all of those? You've certainly got a healthy appetite, my Chuchu. Then let's take your digestive aid first."
Just as I turned back to fetch the cat digestive supplement, she hugged me tight and swayed her tail back and forth.
"I wanna play wif my butler, thatsh what I want."
"…Should we, then? So what do you want to play, my Chuchu?"
Right—why bother with a digestive aid?
She could work it off through play.
With Chuchu clinging to me so affectionately today of all days, I felt like I had everything in the world.