you hasta pik owt whut we iz wearin, Tiger dozin agin... he thinkz, you know
i iz purti luki, ta be a senor kittee, to haf fownd sucha wunner wink,
Tiger, dozin agin
"Mme. Anaïs ^..^" wrote in message
...
On Thu, 5 Mar 2009 00:46:38 -0600, Stormmee's nimble, little paws
typed:

tiger is layin next to hiz wife kittee lettin da girlz talk, he haz drunk
hizown nip whiski anna iz alreadi snorin and absorbin alla sun he kan,
...
he thinkz as he dozes off... I iz gladta be here butted i sure duz miz
cleo,
I iz gonna hafta be xtru nize to TV, Tiger

[Anaïs, napping on a deck chair with Tiger in the late afternoon sun,
stretches then yawns. She looks at her husband-cat sleeping
peacefully, and gently grooms his ears and the back of his head. He
stirs, and she whispers:]

Yoo keep nappink, I'ze going to da spa fur a while, den we can get
dwessed fur dinner, hokay?

[She walks to the spa, and passes Cleopatra's office. She hesitates
with her paw on the doorknob, then enters. The shade is up, and the
streaming sunlight catches the glint of Cleo's black Montblanc
"Diplocat" pen on the desk, next to Cleo's engraved stationery. She
looks around and sees dozens of photos, all neatly framed on the
walls. She walks as if in a gallery and looking at pictures of Cleo
with various heads of state, smiles as she sees Cleo with Luciano
Catarotti in front of La Scala, and stops at one of the Orient
Express. The entire community is alongside the Express at the siding
in Parma; and Anaïs pauses as she sees the smiling faces of the cats
in this community. She notes those dearly, departed kitties: Allegra,
Captain Midnight, Kitty Schotland, Miss Violette, and of course Cleo
herself. She sniffs as she remembers their faces and their meowing
voices, turns and sadly leaves the office and continues to the spa...]

Ahhhh, Mme Anaïs, how iz yourself?, asks a lady-cat attendant. I haff
a hot mineral-baff Jacuzzi reddy, wood you like to get in, then a
massage and fur brushing?

Oh yes, that sounds so relaksing, she replies, and gets in up to her
eyes as the pine-scented water swirls around her.

--
Purrs,

Mme. Anaïs

"I love cats because I take pleasure in my home; and little by
little, the cats become its visible soul."
Jean Cocteau, 1889-1963

3/5/2009 12:21:31 PM