[The following is a true story. Details have been altered to protect the principals from further embarrassment.]

Once upon a time there was a village of cat lovers far, far away from this one. It was a small village and a quiet one: there were not many people, they talked to their neighbors very little, and they slept a lot. It was even suspected by a few that the whole hamlet had been peppered with poppy dust. For some time a kindhearted villager had been keeping everyone content by sending them sweet "daily purring thoughts" from a book called "Cat's Little Instruction Book," a kind of Emily Post for cats. "When in doubt, chase something." "God only gave you one tail--take care of it." That sort of thing. Each morning a few of these purring thoughts would arrive in all the mailboxes; everyone would read them and then go back to sleep. On rare occasions someone would stir long enough to think up another innocuous message and send it to the others.

One day the entire village was snapped out of its somnolence by a piercing shriek from the newest resident. "I just moved to this village three days ago because I thought it was strictly for cat lovers," she yelled. "When I read my mail today I was shocked. I am a devout lady and I will not tolerate such language. If I hear any language like this again I will move away." Well, that sent all the others scurrying (most uncharacteristically) to their mailboxes to see what juicy message they had overlooked. However, they found nothing but the preceding day's purring thoughts. The message read:

Avoid cleaning your private parts in public places.
Never make love in the streets.

The End

But wait, isn't this tale supposed to have a moral? Well, yes and no:

"Where there are tails, there are no morals."

Copyright © Lynda Goldsmith
April 24, 2000