Spike Noir, Ace Kat Extraordinaire (his true name, but current owners could only comprehend SNAKE from his telepathies) has been coming to visit regularly. I think of our place as the "club". His little get away from (as I now believe) the "drug lords". Here is a secret recording I made (translated from the original Cat by me):

It was an early morning visit, Spike Noir, Ace Kat Extraordinaire had evidently been out all night. He came in for an early morning visit and snack.

Grant: Hey, what? He's....Oh my god he's eating the FOOD Sugar!

Sugar: Yeahhhhh. Isn't he dreamy?

Grant: Dreamy? Dreamy? He's eating the FOOD!

Sugar: Yeahhhhhh.

Grant: (scowling) I don't like it one bit! I mean, it's one thing when he comes in walking around like some kind of James Dean wannabe, but the FOOD? Wait, here he comes. I'm going back to bed.

Spike: Heya kid. Good eats.

Sugar: Ummmmm, Mr. Noir?

Spike: Yeah, kid?

Sugar: Is that fur really yours?

Spike: Yeah...hey, that's a cool toy (goes and plays with the fish Grant and Sugar never touch.) Huh. Wow, baby, look at that neat tunnel. See ya chick, gotta check it out. (Proceeds to pummel little balls in tunnel that Grant and Sugar ignore) Ahhh. this is life kid, this is the life.

Grant: (peering in from bedroom door) Sheesh. Look at that. He'll play with *anything*. What a slut. What a sell out. What... uh-oh, I think he's coming this way. Think I'll go back to bed.

Spike: Gotta get a gam at them birds out the window. Hey, kiddo, these trees are great!

Sugar: (who has been slaveishly following him around) Uh-huh.

Spike: Look at this dangly ball. Great! And what's this wire thing? Wa-hoo! That's fun. Hey kid, don't get up too close, OK?

Sugar: Sure thing, Spike.

Spike: Well, better check out the snake pad up stairs. See ya kiddo.

Sugar: Yeah, sure thing Spike. See ya. Hey, I'm .... I'm glad you stopped by.

Grant: (once again from bedroom door) Yeah, thanks, sure thanks a lot. Playing with every single toy, even the boring ones. Who does he think he is (grumble, grumble)? Why I oughta.... (striding around pseudo-impressively) I oughta DO something.

Sugar: Yeah Grant, you oughta stop hiding.

Grant: I'm not hiding! I was thinking. I was retiring from that disgusting display of enthusiasm. C'mere, c'mere. Let's wrestle.

Sugar: (sigh) OK. I wish Spike wrestled......

Copyright © Karen Chuplis
May 8, 2001