Three Questions with Reuben

Reuben, distracted by the way the sunlight hit some dust
Reuben is a sweet boy with a squeaky meow and an interest in becoming an interior decorator. He's said that all of his designs involve soft pastels and no sharp corners. He'd be perfect if you're looking to decorate a room for a newborn baby. Reub also loves crafts, and has made many a glittery, macaroni-based art project.

Once he'd heard that I interviewed his brother from another mother, Maxwell, Reuben informed me that he'd love to help out by providing content for the blog in the form of another cat interview. I was only too happy to take him up on the offer.

We met up in his living room, sitting around the coffee table--well, Reuben sat on the coffee table--while Maxwell watched intently from the window seat. He insisted that he be present in case the interview crossed a line. He claims he's very concerned for his brother's reputation since a very unfortunate episode that involved intestinal worms and the nickname "Poo-ben."

O.R.B: Reuben, thank you so much for this interview. You're very kind to offer your help.

Reuben: Well, I-I, um, it's the least I can do. You've fed me a few times and I can never, ever repay you for your kindness. Hopefully this is at least a start, but I can always do more if you'd like. D-do you need any paperwork alphabetized, or anything sorted? Do you need to borrow money? I don't have much, just a few pennies I found on the floor, but it's yours if you need. I won't even ask you to pay me back.

O.R.B: Oh, no that's okay, Reub. You can keep your three cents. I'm good. Now, Maxwell was very specific about the questions I'm allowed to ask you, so this interview may not be as hard-hitting as some of my others.

Reuben: Thanks fine, I-I-I understand. Whatever you need, that's okay. Maxwell gave me a list of questions you might ask and told me I could write up some answers beforehand. He even provided me with some note cards. But if you want to ask me other questions, that's okay.

O.R.B: Let's start with a softball question. When--

Maxwell: Nope, no, stop. I did not approve sports questions. Reuben doesn't watch sports. You can't ask him about sports. He doesn't know anything about a softball net or softball clubs. No trick questions!

Reuben: It's okay, I-I can try to answer anyway!

O.R.B: I didn't mean I was going to ask him a question about softball, Maxwell. I meant that I was going to ask him an easy question, one of the ones you gave me.

Maxwell: Well, watch your step! I've got my eye on you.

O.R.B: Noted. As I was saying, when you first moved to Seattle from Ohio, you were put into a cat carrier and forced to ride--and I'm quoting Maxwell's words exactly, here--a big, scary plane for many hours. You were not allowed to eat or drink or have any catnip, and you were not allowed to look upon Maxwell's luxurious fur. Why do you eat tuna on Tuna Tuesdays instead of giving it all to Maxwell?

Reuben: Oh--oh no! I thought I was supposed to eat the tuna. Dad always gets mad when Maxwell tries to eat my tuna or Lucca's tuna. I thought I was supposed to eat the-the tuna 'cuz I don't want to make dad mad. I can stop eating the tuna from now on. I can ask Dad to let Maxwell eat the tuna. I didn't know! I feel so bad.

O.R.B: I don't think you need to feel bad. Your dad told me he buys tuna for all the cats, not just for Maxwell. That's something Maxwell's going to have to discuss with your dad himself. Continuing--

Maxwell: Only from the list! You're not reading from the list! The list is the only approved place for questions! Reuben has answers for those questions only!

O.R.B: I am going off the list, don't worry. Now, there is a growing concern about the availability of sunlight in the world, and experts are worried that we may be out of sunlight completely by--and these are Maxwell's words, don't forget--Februvember of 2029. I don't know where he's gotten his sources, but he would like me to ask what you intend to do about the fact that Lucca often chooses the best sun spots and spreads out, taking all the sunlight.

Maxwell: My sources are good! My sources are the smartest! I am my sources and I have done many hours of research! I have spoken to the sun itself and it says that Lucca should not be taking all the sunlight. The sun and I are best friends. I know the sun better than anyone. I will soon be promoted to sun boss.

Reuben: I don't mind Lucca sunning herself. Dad says she is the boss of the house when Dad's not home, so-so she can lay in the sun, it's okay. I don't want to make dad mad or make Lucca cold.

Maxwell: Read off the cards! I gave you the cards for a reason!

Reuben: B-b-but these cards just have a link to your insurance website. I don't think that answers the question. I think the question is about sun, and not about how you cover sewing kit-related accidents after a very high deductible is met.

O.R.B: Let's move on. For this last question, I'm going to throw this catnip fish toy into the bedroom.

Maxwell: That's mine! I should have all the catnip fish toys! [Maxwell then abandoned the interview, following the catnip fish toy into the other room]

O.R.B: Now that we can speak freely, I'd like to really delve into who Reuben is, to really get to know you. I'd like to ask you to tell me about your favorite time of day.

Reuben: I like mornings, when Dad wakes up because he kisses me good morning. But I like night time when he comes home from work and kisses me hello. And afternoons when he comes home from shopping and cuddles me hello. A-a-and mid-mornings are good too because sometimes he wakes up late and we snuggle then. Oh, but late afternoons are nice because sometimes he takes a nap and I get to sleep on the pillow next to him. That's not to say that the middle of the night isn't good, too. Dad's usually asleep at night, and it's good he gets some sleep. I like when he can cuddle me, but he needs his sleep. H-h-he works really hard and he deserves--oh, but then there's early mornings! Sometimes there are birds outside! I like watching birds. Birds seem nice. Not as nice as Dad, though.

Reuben went on for quite awhile, unable to pinpoint which time of day was his favorite and unable to decide if his dad is nicer or if birds are nicer. He then wallowed in shame over not pointing out that I'm nice, too. Luckily, before he could spiral out of control, I was able to distract him with a crinkled up receipt, which he was elated to chase down the stairs. Maxwell was unaware that I went off script, but I expect a cease and desist letter will arrive at my door any day, now that the interview has been made public.


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