“Be yourself!” MamaGrace said. “Act like a dog.”
It was my weekly acting lesson.
My tail swished on the carpet. MamaGrace’s new penthouse room was comfortable. My dorm room only had wooden floors. There, my claws clinked when I walked. I liked MamaGrace’s soft carpets.
“I’m not a dog!” I said. “How can I act like a dog and be myself?”
“No one else acts like you. You will do it differently. No one else will act like a dog in the same way. That’s what the camera wants. You!”
“No,” I said. “It wants a clean, quiet cat. The camera likes me when I sleep and yawn.”
“What role do you want?”
“I want to fight. But I’m too small.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt. But as long as it’s all acting, a fight cat would be interesting.” MamaGrace tapped her eye patch. “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight. It’s the size of the fight in the dog. You’ll find your way, Angel.”
“Will I really?” I ached to be something new, something good.
“Yes,” MamaGrace said. “It just takes time.”
“Can I make up a new role?
“Don’t worry. We’ll name the role you take on.”
“What if I’m not good enough?”
“Every video cat wonders that. It’s normal. Here’s all I can say: Just be yourself, dear. You are enough.”
“Are you enough, MamaGrace?” I studied her face. The smaller penthouse apartment suited her. It was large enough, but not too large. She’d hung dozens of photographs of herself and DaddyAlbert on the wall. “Are you happy now?”
She ran a paw over her face and stood up straighter. “I’m happy to teach acting. I never thought I’d like it, but it’s fun. And I can do this for a long time.”
She studied the photographs on the wall, her eyes moving from one to the next. And I knew she was thinking about DaddyAlbert.
I wanted DaddyAlbert to come home for MamaGrace’s sake. But I also wondered what he’d think of my acting. Would he be proud of me? I was working hard to bring him home. But I also worked to live up to his example as an actor. I worked to make him proud of his daughter. But I was starting to doubt that I’d ever see DaddyAlbert.
“MamaGrace, is DaddyAlbert real?”
“Oh, Angel!”
“It’s just that I don’t know him. I only know that you love him.”
“I understand.” MamaGrace came to rub her shoulder against mine. Side by side, we looked at the photographs. “He’s not been here,” she said. “And when he gets here, he will have missed half your kittenhood. But know this: He loves you. If you ever need something, you can count on him. He’ll have your back.”
I nodded. “I hope so, MamaGrace. Quincy and PittyPat and I—we’re trying to earn enough money to bring him home for you.”
MamaGrace leaned forward, her nose touching mine. “It’s okay, Angel. If you don’t win Top Kitten, we’ll figure out something. Albert is trying to find work too. Something will work out.”