Mama's little helpers

I've been holed up here most of my spare time, trying to write my story, and
I seem to have constant companions in Brandy and Roxie of all people. I
wonder if they're trying to help me write...

Roxie, my little Buddhist, no doubt wants to give me some spiritual
guidance. She's quite the little yogini, an interesting cross between the
Dalai Lama and Yoda. Trying to remind me that I must give my protagonist a
more spiritual dimension, being as that she's a lousy Catholic and knows it.

Brandy? Now what could a raucous little Juvenile Delinquent teach me about
storycraft? Yet she always comes up here with me and lays on the cushions
while I type away. Maybe she wants me to put more punch in things and make
it lively.

But then the two have words, because Brandy likes to try to defy Roxie's
dominant mother-catting, and they'll end up cussing like a couple of
sailors. Are they trying to tell me to have my heroine try to join the Navy?

Blessed be,
Baha

--

Three thousand years ago,
cats were deified in ancient Egypt.
To this day, they have not forgotten.