Cat-ered lunch

I'm not sure what it was that tipped Aggie off. Coulda been the sudden manic red gleam in my yellow eyes. Coulda been the unseemly fountains of drool. Coulda been the not-sotto-voce-enough, "Oh yeah, you betcha I'll take care if it for you. . . !" Or maybe she knows me a touch too well from previous experience.

But after she asked me to tend to her sizeable cat for her while she's off at her family reunion, she eyed me narrowly and mentioned that if said sizeable cat disappeared in her absence, certain coyotes would suffer. Greatly.

Damn. "What possible good is a sizeable cat that one cannot eat?" I asked myself.

Since then, though, the cat and I have discovered unspoken mutual interests in Dame Agatha's back yard. 'Unspoken' because cats and dogs do not really speak with each other much. . . it's kinda genetic.

Full detente is a way off -- I interpret my agreement with with Aggie to mean that all bets are null & void after she returns, 'specially since I felt it was made under unseemly duress. And crossed my toes whilst she extracted certain promises from me. But meantime, the cat and I have called a temporary cease-fire in order to pursue the kinda lunch we can both appreciate. And I hafta say that teamwork when you're chasin' hot squirrel sandwiches on the hoof can be a good thing...