The Conversation…

Cat, Relax, Chill Out, Camacho

“You guys aren’t doing so well,” he said.

“That’s an understatement,” she sighed, dropping her tote bag.

“Well you can’t say you don’t deserve a little retribution for all the bad things you’ve done.”

“That’s not nice,” she said, frowning.

“Neither is your species.”

“Whatever,” she said, passing him his food.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said.  “You’re not all bad.  You just don’t stop the ones who are.”

“It’s complicated.”

“You say that a lot.”

“I mean it a lot.”

“You have special days coming up.  Where you kill a lot of birds and pigs.”

“You make everything worse.”

“By telling the truth?”

“Yes.”

“What are you having?”

“What I always have, either peanut butter and jelly, tomato soup, or maybe a frozen pizza.  I guess I could make pasta but that’s more work.  I have to boil water and drain noodles.”

“I eat better than you do,” he said, licking his plate.

“It’s no big deal.  I have bread, lettuce and tomatoes, so I could have that, I guess.”

“You need to stop being so lazy and actually cook something.”

“Why?”

“Because you can.”

“Don’t care,” she said.

“What are you reading?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Nothing.  Can’t concentrate.  I hold a book, but drift away.”

“I think there’s a lot of that going around.”

“Do you ever wonder why words are spelled the way they are?” she asked.

“Never,” he said, rolling in catnip.  “Why?”

She shrugged.  “Some words just look stupid.”

“Like?”

“Worm.  Why is there an “o” in worm?”

“Good question, since were is spelled without one.  They could have just added an “m” to it and they would have had werem, or werm.”

“What are you two talking about?” asked Jinx, walking to his food dish.

“She wants to know why there’s an “o” in the word worm?”

“I’ve wondered that myself,” said Jinx.

“Right?” she said, smiling. “There’s no way it belongs there.”

“I agree,” said Jinx.

“How are the new cats and puppy doing?” she asked, petting Jinx.

“Good.  They’re nice and polite.  I’ve been checking on them.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Jinx finished eating, rubbed against her in thanks, and said, “Well, I’m off to take some cats to the park.”

“Nice seeing you,” she said, kissing him.  “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, and then ran away.

“Do you tell all the cats you know that you love them?  Because if you do, then it doesn’t mean anything.”

“I love cats in general,” she said, nuzzling his neck.  “But love on an individual basis is a whole different thing.  Why?”

“No reason,” he purred.

“I think you love me too,” she whispered, rubbing his ears.

“Think whatever you like,” he said, touching her face with his paw.

“Are you coming over tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ll see you then,” she said, kissing him.

“See you then,” he yawned, curling into a ball.

“Sweet dreams,” she said.

“Always,” he muttered, closing his eyes.

 

 

 

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