View Full Version : And the Cat Came Back...

12-09-2008, 06:41 AM
This dumb monkey just ran out of food. I was right, she IS the ‘other white meat.’

And what in flea’s carnation is this crap the little monkey showed up with?


Nuh-uh. No way. I am NOT eating this crap. I’d sooner lick a tuna between the fins or jump a salmon in a cold stream.


I am so outta here. There has to be better eatin somewhere. Maybe I’ll go over to that Cabaret place and have me some chewy camel.

Okay, so I didn’t make it anywhere yet but the neighbor’s. They have the right stuff. My belly is full and my pissed-off-pussy (attitude) is now happy.


But who wants to go home? The night is early. I’m out and about. I don’t have to do anything tomorrow but lick myself and sleep in a warm spot (of sun). So…what to do?


Maybe I’ll wander on down to the—oh, snap, there’s Calvin. What the hell is he doing here? Just when I thought I could…

“Puss in boots, where the hell you headin?”

I hate it when he calls me that. My stinkin name is Boots. Just Boots. None of this ‘Puss In…’ crap. I’ll put his puss in something. See how he likes it.

“I’m out. So I’m goin out. You got a problem with that, punk?” I ask, licking my middle pad as I casually wave it in his direction.

“Out where? I’m comin. You don’t get a night out chasin tail without me.”

So off we both went, down to the seedy part of town. Not often we get this kind of opportunity, so we better make the best of it. I seen these two hot pussies sunbathing in bikinis somewhere on the way home from the vet once. It was summer then, and I have no idea where I saw them, but I could smell that tail anywhere.

And it’s that smell I’m following now.


Sure enough, there they are. Both of ‘em. Hot pussies still, even with them winter coats on. Sure, they look a little thicker in the belly. Nothin’ wrong with some paddin'.

I start struttin my stuff up to the corner where those kittens are hangin hot, and Calvin suddenly gets his jingle-balls in a bunch. “That’s dangerous pussy,” he says, rolling up his nose.

“Then get your scaredy-cat ass home. I’m gonna exercise my muscle tonight, and with you gone, I have twice the chance for feline fun. See ya. Adios. Don’t let your own tail hit ya in the ass.”

And off he went, and in I went. And those pussies dug me. They could smell right away that I meant bid-ness. The three of us sauntered over to some front porch and melted some snow beneath the wood planks. It was heaven, I tell ya. Better’n a warm cabaret-breast buffet or a camel burger with toe cheese.


Then, things go downhill. I mean, who the hell woulda guessed these puss’ were bein pimped. Big cocky Tom cat comes bustin through the lattice and the girls scramble, pullin up their fur as they prance away. And this Tom is one mean lookin mo-fo. He’s sportin’ heat like I’ve never seen, and he sprays me like a cat’s never been sprayed before.


So there I was. Dead. Waitin for number 8 to kick in. Finally, somewhere in the middle of the night, I woke up, and my damn paw was frozen to the ground. I had to lick my pads to thaw it loose, and the taste made me realize losing a life was worth the escapade.

Eventually I limped home. Dropping from nine is more taxing on the tail than one might realize. Then, just as I’m getting close, I see her. My white-meat momma, leaving the house. And why NOT have some fun with her? I mean, she did, after all, screw the pooch (I love that saying) on my food. Serves her right if I play her a bit, eh?

So I stood there and screamed, at the top of my lungs, “Hey beeeee-otch! You got my breakfast yet!”


You shoulda seen the look on her face. She ran inside and got my royal carrier, then trotted on back out the door just in time to open it for me like the good white-meat servant she is. All’s well that ends well, I guess. Cat’s night out, and human doesn’t know any better…