Marcy’s Game of Cones …
Cynthia is worriedly pacing the apartment as Tabby Cat Scooter recovers in the office from the sudden onset of a bizarre, inexplicable, and violent rash.
Darth Vet -er has doomed Tabby Cat Scooter to the dreaded “Cone.” Both cat and hooman are glum.
Just then, Cynthia side eyes Marcy stretching out, luxuriating in a sunspot she has all to herself.
Cynthia: Marcy, did you by any chance … I don’t know … injure Scooter somehow?
Marcy: Don’t believe everything you hear.
Cynthia: I actually didn’t hear –
Marcy (quickly): Those are rumors.
Cynthia: Ok but I’m not really hearing any –
Marcy (cutting her off): Fake news.
Cynthia: Ok … Ok.
Cynthia starts to walk away but hesitates and turns back.
Cynthia: It’s just that you’ve been strutting around like Queen of the Apartment ever since Scooter has been confined to his cone and the office. I mean, you’re kind of … glowing?
Marcy: Can’t a kitty enjoy some peace and quiet and a sunspot without being accused of attempted murder in the first degree? Geesh.
Cynthia: Ok Ok.
A beat as Cynthia resumes her worried pacing.
Marcy: By the way, have you considered his raging rash might be a food allergy?
Cynthia: No. Darth Vet- er thinks he’s got an abscess or he got bit by a flea or –
Marcy: We don’t have fleas.
Cynthia: I know. But …
Marcy: But what? We don’t have fleas.
Cynthia (throwing up her arms in exasperation): But it can’t be a food allergy. Scooter’s been eating the same food for months.
Marcy: Oh yeah?
Marcy: So you’re saying Scooter hasn’t been chowing down on that big bag of inexpensive cat food you bought to feed the ferals?
Cynthia: Oh my gato!
Cynthia races off to call Darth Vet-er.
Marcy stretches out in her solo sunspot.
But, she can’t get comfortable. She frets and turns and keeps glancing at the closed office door.
Sighing, Marcy gets up and slips a note under the door.
Get better soon, ok?
Our Hooman can’t handle it.
And sunspots aren’t the same without you.
Love + Hisses, Marcy
*Scooter is doing better, but we still don’t know what caused his rash.
I wish cats could talk.
(Marcy: Are you sure about that?)