Moishe didn’t turn his head to look up at her. He just kept watching the shrimp in the chef’s hand and purring so hard, she could see his ears vibrate.
“Next we put the cleaned shrimp into the pan on the stovetop,” the chef said, tumbling them in and picking up the sauté pan to shake it. As he did, the camera zoomed in on the prepared pasta and the sauce that was in a separate pan on the stove.
“Rrrrowww!” Moishe yowled, and Hannah could hear the outrage in his voice. He jumped down from her lap, headed directly to the television set, and leapt to the top of it.
“Moishe! What are you doing up there?” Hannah asked, not expecting an answer, but Moishe yowled again, this time a yowl that sounded plaintive.
“Relax. They’ll show the shrimp again,” Hannah told him. “Jump down and you can watch it from my lap.”
But it seemed that her cat had other ideas, because he inched forward and draped himself over the front of the television set, hanging over with his head and his front legs so that he could look down at the screen.
Hannah stared at him and then she gave an amused chuckle. She’d seen Moishe do something like that only once before. The incident had taken place several years ago, when her cable company had previewed a new channel for dogs and cats. She’d turned to the channel and left it on to see if it amused Moishe. When she’d come home from work, she’d found him draped over the top of the television set, exactly the way he was now, batting at the screen. The picture on the screen had been a close-up of a large fish tank, and it had been perfectly obvious that Moishe had been trying to catch the fish.
“Are you going to try to snag one of those shrimp when they show them again?” Hannah asked him. He just lifted his head to look at her, gave her a glance that she was sure meant Don’t bother me, lady! and lowered his head so he could go back to watching the screen again.
Hannah wished that Ross were here so that she could show him what Moishe was doing, and at that very second, there was a soft knock at her door. She rushed to answer it, pulled open the door, and saw Ross standing there.
“Come in, but don’t say a word,” she whispered. “Just follow me to the couch and watch Moishe. He’s about to attack the television set.”
Ross looked every bit as surprised as a man could look, but he did exactly as she asked. He followed her to the couch, sat down quietly, and grinned as he saw Moishe draped over the top.
The chef on the screen was shaking the sauté pan with the shrimp again. As they watched, all three of them, he picked it up and carried it over to the dish with the pasta. Obviously, he’d combined the sauce with the pasta and tossed it while Hannah had answered the door. Now he was ready to finalize the dish by adding the shrimp to the pasta.
Moishe leaned over the screen so far, Hannah was afraid that her cat would fall to the floor. But he didn’t, and that made her wonder if the scratches on the top of her television set were from previous shows that had excited him so much, he’d dug in his claws.
“Watch this,” she whispered and glanced at Ross’s face. He was grinning, and she could feel the couch shaking from his silent laughter.
When the first shrimp tumbled from the edge of the pan, Moishe gave a yowl and batted at it. The rest of the shrimp followed, and Moishe’s paw moved so fast it looked as if he might punch a hole through the glass.
“I’ve never seen a cat do that!” Ross said, clearly shocked. “I don’t know why he doesn’t fall. He’s leaning over so far that . . .”
“Uh-oh!” Hannah exclaimed, watching in fear as Moishe began to slip. She was just jumping up from the couch when it happened. Moishe took a nosedive from the top of the television console, but somehow he managed to twist his body so that he landed on his feet.
“Moishe! Did you hurt yourself?” Hannah gasped.
Moishe turned toward her with a startled expression that quickly turned to something she interpreted as nonchalant. Then he began to wash his face as if he’d planned the whole thing to amuse her.
“I think he’s trying to tell you he’s fine,” Ross commented, pulling her back down on the couch. “And I also think he’s trying to tell you that he’s a little embarrassed by the fall.”
Moishe glanced up at Ross, gave a welcoming yowl that Hannah thought could have meant, You’re right, but don’t tell her, and began to wash his face again.
“Looks like I got here just in time,” Ross said, taking Hannah into his arms. “I need to talk to you, Cookie.”
He sounded serious and Hannah looked up to try to read his expression. “What about?”
“The Food Channel competition. Why didn’t you call to tell me that they changed the date?”
Hannah felt a sudden stab of guilt. “I’m sorry, Ross. I should have called you right away. Andrea told me that and she was right. It was just I . . . well . . . it never occurred to me to call you at work.”