Hello! My name is Tigeronus, and I live on a planet called Cat’s Paw. That is an orb in our galaxy where cats rule. (Don’t be surprised. It was inevitable.)
I and my two friends, Split-Ear and Tubby, went to the Feral Museum to “sightsee.” “Sightseeing” is code for us to go watch pretty ladies.
In those days, we would position ourselves on the padded bench across from the most famous painting EVER—The Catarona Leeza.
While gazing at that awe-inspiring painting, we debated what Catarona’s expression meant. Was she acting coy? Was she flirting? Her expression was so enigmatic!
Right after Tubby commented on how green the Persian beauty’s eyes were and Split-Ear said that her white, silky fur was so beautiful he might consider taking a bath—I spied her. Strolling past the very painting she had modeled for was Catarona herself!
All of us saw her at once. We immediately drew ourselves up, onto our bottoms, with straight spines. Tubby sucked in his gut and was barely breathing. Split-Ear washed himself frenetically. I tried to keep my rabbiting heart from coming out of my Himalayan body.
I felt I might die when, instead of ignoring us, Ms. Leeza sauntered over to our bench. Then, she spoke!
“Gentlemen,” she said, batting her eyelashes. “I would love for one of you to take me out tonight for an elegant dinner.”
I could not see Split-Ear, the shabby Tabby with his dirty fur and alley-cat ways, ever measuring up to Catarona’s standards. And Tubby, that fat Marmalade, would just clash with her delicate pigment and fit figure. I was certain she would pick me, a breed so close to hers. What I did not know was that this was a contest based on merit.
She laid out her plan. “I love liver and cheese. Always have. And, the one who uses those two words in a sentence in the most creative way, is the one I will choose to be my date.”
Split-Ear and Tubby seemed to energize when she said this, as if suddenly gaining hope.
Split-Ear took his turn first with a brilliant, “I could have liver and cheese if I could afford them.” To this, Catarona Leeza rolled her eyes. You could tell she found the sentence subpar.
I could not imagine Tubby’s would be any better. He straightened his spine with pride and said, “I wish I didn’t have Metabolic Disorder so I could eat liver and cheese.”
I told you.
Catarona turned her head in complete rejection, but, just as my heart swelled in anticipation of the win, Tubby said, “Let me try again, please.” To this Catarona’s expression softened, and he began a new sentence.
My anger shot out before I could control it. I arched my back. I hissed. Pointing a threating claw at the orange menace, I yelled, “Liver alone! Cheese mine!”
That night’s liver-and-cheese date with Catarona, at the famous restaurant Chez Paw, changed my life. I soon changed my social media status to “married.”
What a wonderful day at the museum!
